bounds

Boy what a week.
I know I keep writing this, but it's true!
Sheesh.
November's languid, humid days and sandy beaches have vanished for good from the rearview mirror.
Boundaries are on my mind--my own have been stretched to what I keep expecting to be the snapping point, the outer edge of pliability, and yet they continue to stretch and flow and extend and yet I continue to continue.
So that's a thing.
Other boundaries have been intermediately and judicially re-set, and I know I'm being oblique so please trust that I must be and trust that the re-set is a good and necessary thing.
Tomorrow: love for my mom and my fam and my man, funny how these are all 3-letter words and funny how they are all different kinds of love, no less strong for being different, all complicated and such a nourishment.
Today: chill on your mind's beach with Sammy Bananas:

peace

Peep my friend Thad Wenatchee's new beats, I'm loving this song:

justice

A bit of justice was served today, about 260 days after the fact.
The fact I don't want to go into here, other than to say that in the not too distant past, a pathetic and cowardly person did awful things to some young people I know and care about.
So big ups tonite to my sister and her husband and my other sister and her family and the rest of the fam and friends who have sent good thoughts and prayers and scoured the internets and sat up late and got up early and wished for justice/revenge/karma to hit hard and without mercy, like a runaway train.
There's a pretty amazing kiddo in the mix who is young still and needs protection, who will never know how much this has cost, but she doesn't need to know, she just needs to grow up with hugs and love and security.
*
C'est tout on a cold and rainy night in Seattle.

the talk

From Facebook today via Subhan Schenker: all problems are psychological, all solutions are spiritual.
I've been thinking about the narrative inside my head. Self talk. Inner monologue, whatever.
The voice interpreting my day, casting an emotional spin on events, interpreting another's body language.
I live in my own universe and you live in yours. We visit each other. Intimacy for me is feeling welcome in another person's universe, realizing I have a place in it, my spot on the couch.
Since this time last week I've been in five different states. If that ain't metaphorical, I don't know what is.
The work ugly has made me re-examine, re-think, question my motives, doubt myself.
How could I not have known this malevolence was bubbling along?
But the thing is--I did know. I had evidence. Reportage. Comments and looks and evictions.
The thing about red flags is I almost always ignore them. I make the same dumb mistakes, over and over.
*
I ignore the obvious and then obsess over the minute. What did she mean with that look? Why do they always turn down my invitations? He says he cares about me but does he really? It shows a lack of trust, I know that. Trust in myself, trust in another. In some ways I'm still this little kid looking for approval. It's inside. Learn that. Remember that. It's inside.

ze flip

Whoa doggies whatta week.
Whiskey, good friends and Gaga Monday night and into Tuesday.
A day later, somber coffee with friend going through medical tests and fearing the outcome.
The next day, and the next, discovery of a deep malevolence at work.
Deep and enduring malevolence.
At my workplace.
I'm scared, for my job, my reputation.
Yesterday, I took steps, talked to the right people, did--so I was told--the right things. So now I talk, and wait, and try not to think too much.
Yesterday, I came home to a gift, a thank you letter for the essay I wrote last year, accompanied by a check.
It's been awhile since I could equate words with money.
It feels good!
It feels really good.

focus

Two weeks into the new year and I'm questioning what-the-hell it is I'm doing.
Or not doing.
I've done a lot of traveling, drinking, dancing, smoking, loving, laughing, and some crying.
(Hey, I'm a girl, I'm allowed.)
What I haven't done is a lot of writing.
This is where it gets dangerous, where I wake up and all of a sudden I'm seventy and saggy and frustrated and alone and asking myself how I fucked up life so bad.

 

belated

Happy new year errybody.
I welcomed 2013 with bubbly, a rowdy funk band and some late-nite drunk dialing.
And needless to say, a hangover.
But also with ideas, optimism, curiosity.
*
In yoga there are poses called heart-openers.
At first I was skeptical--so corny!
But it seems to me that there are worse things than an open heart, and sometimes the body can be the gateway to the mind.
So I guess here's to stretches and all that comes with.