It’s July and I could’ve sworn I had been here since April but alas, another few months have passed and I’m once again shaking my head at all the things I could have written but I’ll be honest…I’m not in the habit lately of finger-waggling myself over shit that doesn’t matter and in the grand scheme of things, how many times I update a personal blog just…doesn’t matter.
I finished the hellishly compact Summer semester class that I thought would be an easy ‘A’ and another tick-mark on my resume. I did get the ‘A’ but it was way, WAY more tedious than I am accustomed to and I’ve decided to give myself the Fall off to take a class called “Whatever the Fuck I Want 301” where I DON’T go to school to stack my already-bloated education resume and I DO write more and paint more and take lots of baths and lunch with my friends and vacation and pour over the dusty tomes of antique books in my office that want studying.
There’s work with the theatre and I’ve found myself as their Social Media Director ad locum. There’s more work with both of my side-hustles and I am hell-bent to work down my to-do list because FUCCCCKKKK that voice in my head who keeps reminding me that I’m ignoring it. There’s work at work and I have no idea how I’ll tie up all my projects before year’s end but I will because it’s what I do. There’s work at the house. Work in the yard. Work in my head. Work on my body. And I’m here for all of it. Jazzed and ready, gassed up, and a proper rebel without a clue.
I’m down another 20 pounds since April and it’s opened a LOT of my older wardrobe back up to me which is both exhilarating and sad because I get to wear really cute things I loved 5 years ago but I also need to let go of things that I really love that are now too big. Bittersweet symphony. I want to lose another 40 pounds or so and get back to yoga and toning so that I will feel strong and graceful again…and be able to get in bed without throwing my back out.
With the weight loss, I look more and more like my Momma. She’s always been such a pretty woman and even now with age and lines and wrinkles and every bit of her 67 years sitting on her like a coat, she is still that same scrappy little being with huge dark eyes and a chin you could cut glass with. Something magical in her tiny-ness while inhabiting the world in such a huge way. And still, in all her magic, the absolute WORST self-image I’ve ever seen and God DAMN those men and fucked up world messages for feeding her that bullshit all her life.
I’m content these days. With pretty much everything in my personal sphere. Oh to be able to fix all the “big” stuff in the world but existing in love and beauty is sure the hell a good start. <3
For the rest of the year and to begin again with love at the midyear point for my resolutions: an exercise plan to include erotic dance, weights, yoga, and balance. The book. The book. The book. That funky wallpaper and paint combo I want for the front entry. Sewing projects galore that will shred the universe with a vibe of “House of Harlow” meets McQueen meets vintage goblin witch. That tea party group I’ve always dreamed of. That witchy working group that Fiver and I cooked up at the con. All the things. Always all the things.