it's hard, finding words for it, how I feel about this man, who is was both A the only adult person on earth that I have known every inch of - he let me do anything - toe by toe each a wonder type deal and B a kind of stranger (different man)

all I know is A when his mind gets in pain, I can feel it like I want to slap a cold compress on it and B I want to wrap my arms and legs around him and hold him still stop running stop fighting stop writhing stop

notice you got a heart's wish 💫

where there's one

In yoga, I noticed that my jaw was clenched, of course. But also, my tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth down the back of my throat all the way down to the clavicle or whatever the fuck that is between your collarbones. 

That's the sensation of trapped. 

I really do not like that sensation. It's a problem.

manicure and a preroll #selfcare

VIRGO (Aug. 23-Sept. 22). Aggressive people want to win, but so do pacifists. They want to win peace. The difference is that aggressive people are only truly satisfied with the win if they're sure the loser has suffered some. Those types will only bring you heartache.

They sure have.

TJ rolls in tonight for our Thanksfornothing Day tomorrow dinner, adding her 👀 into the mix. My mother has been staying safe from me down in Irving. Another round of firings left me alive for now (again) but in a dark place, 4 others in the woodchipper. And I just felt slapped hard (not in a good way). I can't feel like that around my mom. My turn-to-stone 

"If you miss a beat, invent another." patti smith, a patron saint

Gonna stop writing like it's talking for a spell. The Piano is my Tombstone. "I'm your Ada-berry", one might say.

The last song posted was for him. I unravel slow. I am just leaving it there for him like a crouton. 

I go down in pieces - patsy joplin

If you reach and they run, you're not in a relationship of reciprocity; you're in a game. It's better to be in a dance than a game. There's no chasing in dance, just maintaining space to avoid stepping on toes.

I don't like games.

Everybody thinks being an asshole is accomplishing something these days for some weird reason. (It is not.) 

Am I fired? No. Then do fuck off. I'm busy writing a novel in which people say things like "I want you to survive this" when they really mean the you/I reversed. #pronouns

As for what this blog was started for and has tried to provide, a safe space for intimate inner life stuff - how-to, who-to, and all the art(s) made to explore how it is to navigate intimacy around such pressing things as work and mortality and children - welp, this is love in the time of cholera, only not much different. If anything, the intensity and stakes both increase, which might be exciting. But some rules of physics apply, like wet is wet. 

oh no - the decemberists

 

I do like cupid's butt

I am calling this color "Cupid's Butt" - we had it matched from a swatch of wallpaper and I bet you anything she will pronounce it fleshy and come up with somethijg funnier and worse 

take the day, eat cake, adjust, nap

I already deleted the mornings's blabla blogging. I had a whole long series of thoughts about what it might mean, could mean, that court-vigil day got cancelled like a snow day. 

My boss just called, my program got cancelled today too, filled with students. I am back to maybe fired again. Always trying to outrun that ball. 

Except I am not trying to do that anymore. 

I'd rather a dodgeball get thrown at my head.

I didn't ask for anything. It's a different kind of spellwork that I'm working on. Closer to sex magic. New moon in Scorpio today. Deliberately uncontained, a kind of tension. Intentionally alter the way I feel. Not like candle work. More like lighting a fire. Which I also do, too. Pulling warmth into me. I am the caldron type deal. The brew is whatever cooks up.

All day long, I am thinking about that chocolate, the YES coin from Trader Joes from that spell cast back in the spring. I fed a chunk to my mother, which might help explain "Sweetie Pie". Since then, it's been turning pale in the fridge, I am sick of looking at it, I am going to transmute it. I am going to break it, subdue it, fold it into More and bake it into lava then eat all of it. I poured myself a hot hot bath, took the gooey thing into the tub on a plate, I am swallowing the first huge hot mouthful of it as I am settling into the steam and my ass is still stinging. Yea I am thinking about him, that I ain't his Mama whatsoever. (Jackie is better!) Then the phone rings, he is ❤️‍🔥 with wins.

His mama. Jeezus fucking christ. What the actual hell. 🤏 close to another parent death spiral?! 😳

Talk about something I never thought I'd have on my bingo card: I fervently want Low Cunning to be fine. For them to be fine, and to look at each other and wonder how each of them went through what probably was one of the worst month(s) of their lives this last month + and did not talk to each other about it really. They fought around it is how they "talked".  👀 Polish still eludes me a lot. 

Lay down, I wanna talk to ya? 

Welp, there is one thing that we certainly agree on and that is we can't have our littles exposed to senselessness / life must be sense-made. And for me, that means my own life must be sense-made. 

I looked at myself just before I climbed into that bath with lots of my hair grown back in soft curls, I thought what a privilege it is to be healthy 👁 

"mecorating" (sense making)

I give my mother when my back is against the wall. Today, for instance, my son-in-law is picking her up after his Dr appointment. I am not bringing her, she will instead ride alone with him to their place. Whatever she will ask about how he is feeling, I would be afraid to ask. And whatever he says would be something he wouldn't say to me. I love them both, so I won't be in the car. And then my daughter will have Ma alone for a spell, and whatever she would say to her grandmother is not something that she would say to me, and whatever help my mother offers her is not something that she could take from me. 

Sometimes not-me is the best thing I can give. 

Tomorrow I have blocked my calendar with "in court". I'll be just here. Quietly alone. 

I am going to bake a cake.

"jon hamm"

lover please - melissa ethridge 

I mean, yea. I made jerk chicken, a little spicy but good. More painting prep, endless prep, endless water stains and problems found along the way, but I have a groove going, a friend showing up 2 days a week, Ears whenever he's needed. It's becoming a nest like only I would make a little more each day. Mostly still just fixing shit, but Couch comes home tomorrow. Comes home. I have been homesick nearly to death. This place is falling apart / seems like a good match.

  

Today, "keep doing it", the "it" of we're doing it. How I feel, aside from physically healthy and mentally appropriate (responses match reality, no catrophizing), is beside the point. For now. 

I stacked the wood. 

good intentions

"Sweetie Pie" is what she called him in her phone contacts. I dunno what she sent him, but I know he didn't respond to her either. 

I downplayed it. That's just modern life, Ma. You wait for people to text you back. Be grateful nobody died today, far as we know. "That is so depressing." It is not a thrill a minute. That is why joy is the most rebellious thing, if you can pull it off. 

I think of that as what it looks like but maybe it's just a stick

But truth is, I thruppled my worry, and it now includes her hurt feelings as well doing what she hasn't learned yet, ie worrying if it's something I said. I am 🤏 close to calling him right now to make sure he is alive...