Discombobulation Station

She's like the shine on your shoes

Over the last few weeks, instead of writing posts or being productive somehow otherwise after the kid goes to sleep, I'll just sort of hang out, mentally flatlined, with my ass parked in front of the TV, half-watching, half-reading Crap on the Internet. You know how it goes. For weeks. Unproductive. Which breeds unproductivity.

There are a handful of blogs I read all the time. One of them is this: Soulemama.  This woman is a wonder. She has four kids, homeschools, expects her fifth baby in the summer, makes gorgeous things, and in case that isn't enough she is taking care of the family farm while her husband recovers from a hip replacement.

Hate her yet? I'll admit sometimes I do. She is charming and graceful and funny, and I have a feeling I would like her very much in person, but GODDAMN WOMAN CAN YOU PLEASE STOP MAKING ME FEEL SO INADEQUATE.  But I don't stop reading. And feel worse and worse about me.

And then, of course, comes the epiphany. I could be doing stuff too. No one is tying me to the couch or has glued my fingers together or sawed my feet off at the ankles.  As much as I want to resent my circumstances for MAKING me tired or whatever, they are not. Remember when we first started this blog? I was busy then, albeit in a very different way. I was not making a ton of money in a city where it is easy to feel like you need a ton. I was working full-time, rehearsing for dance shows, taking yoga teacher training, dating up a storm. I was BUSY. Every night I was going and doing and writing tons and just. LIVING. And it felt great.

It's true what they say about bodies in motion, after all. So inspired by Soulemama and not a little by Mighty Maggie (who can also make a girl feel woefully inadequate, if one is inclined thus), I am gonna break out of my own assprints and DO stuff.  Write. Dance. Stop Moping. (This is easier to do in the spring, obvs.)

The kicker? I am getting a little windfall from Uncle Sam this year and have designated a chunk of that change for something frivilous.  Denizens of D-Station, If you had a few hundred dollars to spend anyway you wanted, what would YOU do? Should I take a class? Travel?

And I am going to try to come up with a bit of good news to share in this space almost every day. Like this: hooray for my state's vote for safety and sanity!  If you have anything to share, please do.

Thanks for reading! All five of you!

xoxo, A

If you don't have anything nice to say...

It's fair to say that these last couple of months have been a slog.  A long, cold, boring, minorly stressful and majorly argumentative, slog. My brain goes like this: ugh, jesus, we don't have enough goddamn money! How are we supposed to live without enough money!! Well, we both have jobs at least. And gosh, at least we don't live in JAPAN. I should be goddamn grateful to be worrying about having enough money to pay our mortgage, I mean, at least we have a HOUSE. A drafty house WITH NO TRIM that is HALF PAINTED. Ok, but, at least have our health, so we can paint the house when it gets warmer. IF IT EVER GETS WARMER ARGGHH BLAHH ZZZZZZT OMG JAPAN EVERYONE SPELLS GADDAFI DIFFERENTLY$@(!(!@((@!!!

And trust me, I want to write about those things as much as you want to read about them.  But trying to write about things not foremost in my skull-space feels forced, hence, no posts. BUT I am pleased to report that as per usual (though we always forget), with the first tiniest hint of spring, things feel a bit...lighter. Better. Hopeful-er. So here's to the first few days of a new goddamn season.  To a bit of warmth and sunlight, and little bits of green life, for everyone all over.

I hope your springs have sprung, too. 

xoxo, A

Its That Time of Year...

I'm lucky enough that I get to travel, and especially lucky that this is the second year in a row that I am headed to the Caribbean to go sailing with friends, and motoboy. Hence it being March, and me being a Chicago girl, there is a certain amount of maintenance that needs to be done before donning the swimsuit. Oh fuck the diet, that didn't work out at all, mostly because it was boring. So I got some really clever suits in a 50s cut and am feeling pretty confident that I will feel confident wearing them. I'm talking maintenance. Yes, pedicure is a nice touch, but I also needed ye olde waxe and my usual salon isn't open very late at night.

I've been also lucky enough to have some work right before said trip in my old building, and I noticed a new nail shop that seemed bright and eager and clean. So I tried to go in last night but they were closing up, so I made a lunchtime appointment. This is your traditional Asian nail shop, so I know they know what they are doing nail-wise, but my lady bits have only ever been maintained by my Cuban salon owner in the hood. The Latinas and the Irish, we know what can happen downstairs. The Asian girls? Do they even have to wax? I dunno.

So this was, needless to say, an experience. I asked her, "are you gentle?" and she laughed and said "ha ha no." She clearly didn't know what I had said and it only made me more nervous. As I sat there and allowed the nice young woman to do her job (not even a pair of paper panties were on offer), and then the scissors came out (really? is it that wild?), and I thought that this woman is now going places that motoboy hasn't even seen in the light of day.

Which I guess is the point?

All in all it looks good, but toward the end there I had to look down and tell her, I'm wearing a one piece, let's not get crazy!

Ah, womanhood. So to all! Please welcome spring while I am gone, because when I get back I will still be, ahem, ready for it.

And this is the first post in March? Man we are lame. Sorry about that, Jen and Jen and Meg and Eva. ;-)

xo

E