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coucou

soiree bizarre...

I am on my introversion swing...

dinner with Julie, all I can say is AWKWARD. instead of putting a self-judgment on it, I am gonna just go with it..

I feel uncomfortable with her lately. 

it's not all about how she has a boyfriend. 

I see her  intense focus on her goal of launching her bread business, I think that is hard for me to see, because I'm lacking focus in my life. Studying spanish? conversation coffee dates with Maribel? My pimsleur podcasts so ready to be played?

Yeah so the success balance, it's normal if it comes up I think... these things fluctuate..

That's not it. 

She always goes "How have U been??" and there is a way of asking that they totally deflects the attention away from the questioner. It somehow doesn't always feel like an equal exchange. I give, i gave, and now I don't give. Nor does she. So dinner was like  "how have u been" "pretty good" etc. banal shit about work. "so are you still seeing ryan" "no" 

Maybe it's me. 

You know, meeting with people and feeling like it's not "enough" to just be there, being you... That like more energy is required to make the relationship work. 

in 2013... if I had to make a list, some ideas come to mind:

Play in guitar orchestra or at least a band (also, get an acoustic guitar at last)

Move out of the valley, or at least spend much of the summer not here.

Spanish intensive program please. at least a community college class, maybe a conversation partner. It is fun to practice spanish -- YOU LOVE LANGUAGES!!!!! Remember that U truly feel a buzz from  language learning. 

Have a child/ get married to a mystery groom

(you see, I'm not great at that 1 step at a time thing!)

{try to teach pilates??] At least get on a sub list somewhere... it would be great to prove it to yourself that U can do this work.. no one else really cares, thats the weird thing about life... 

Morrissey was right. They don't care, if u live or you die.

The only thing i'm focussing on lately is... reading my kindle book on minimalism. Cleaning my apartment. Parting with things I don't need. Deciding what makes the cut. Revisiting old memories like "aw, remy gave me that sewing machine I never use!" I will let it sit there for 1 more year. And look at it everyday.. 

But truly, I have a hoarding problem with toiletries. Do you??

My bathroom cabinet is embarassing. Loristat for fungal infection I maybe had that one time. Waxing lotion + the family size container of wax strips.... Sooo many mediocre shampoos. Guess what.  My hair looks great when I use that Aveda Conditioner for Blondes. it was like 20 bucks... but maybe that is why it works well. 

Does the salvation army accept used hair/ skin products? Because i would hate to see my junk go into the garbage can. 

Guess what tami? You have to USE the things that you buy. Just because your royal jelly day cream costs 15 bucks doesn't mean U have to take a frugal little dab every 3 days u use it. 

The lady at Sephora drilled into U the importance of cleansers + moisturizing!!! It's winter, honey! Moisturise that face!

U can use what U buy for yourself. 

And then when it is all gone you can choose what to get next. 

But fucking use things. That is why you buy them no?

g2g

january song

 it is the dead of winter, and I am channeling my inner utterly uncomfortable teen early 20 something, awkward awkward awkward. 

The old familiar feeling of 'c'est foutu' which always flows so quickly through me in winter. One bad move, arriving at my fave cafe with my laptop at the EXACT same time as this ALPHA dude who always wants to chat me up, guess what there are NO seats except 2 next to each other. I am thus trying to tap into my inner genius with this guys radiantly alpha, aggressive male energy right next to me. I'm dying. He is so OPEN. in a way which scares me. No mechanism to close up. Literally his body language is turned toward the crowd with  his iPad.. I never want to be this open open open and chronically alone. Surfing the web all day, non merci.  

I bought some beef today. Should I cook it, and eat it, and see how I feel?  But  it''s an animal.. 

I glazed over many big events this winter. Let me try to tap back into it. 

Downton Abbey. I hate Mrs. Crowley. The prostitute Ethel storyline is boring me. She speaks very little and each time, she mumbles, so we can't even hear her, just that she flees every time she comes on screen. Poor Edith. Jilted at the altar. Now that is a doozy. Stuff of nightmares for those gals. But why settle for that old dude anyway? I hope she finds a nice young boyfriend to make her feel young.

What else happened. 

Sean borrowed my bard sweatshirt. I hunted him down tactfully for it. with skill. It was like coaxing a bear out of a cave. He was being dodgy and I started to silently hate him. I sealed the deal, had to escort him home, had to drink his whiskey and listen to him wax bitter poetic about how the world is fucked... how people make "rules" and then "break them" and like,  put people in boxes, you know???? Yes sean. Relationships are so constrictive, aren't they. It's why you  sleep with different women every night yet are perpetutally so alone alone alone and no one has ever known you deeply and loved you loved you. Yet that's a "construct", I guess, like so called "intimacy", like forcing something into existence based on pre-conceived cultural norms. I'll take my bard sweatshirt and be outta here SEE YA!!!!

So that was an achievement. I have to soon babysit a bunch of elementary schoolers for a PTO meeting. Ironically my best friend is leaving at the EXACT TIME AS I AM. Unreal. More later. 

Kikou encore

coucou. c'est moi.

This is what is happening. 

I look in the mirror alot. Alot. THis is my experience of aging. It's happening. Like microchanges to the cells in the face, hands, everywhere. It's how you looks at someone and say "they look 35" or whatever, It looks like they've lived a bunch. Which you should have at 35. 

When I hang out with Ruvi, it's as if I am channeling my inner 18 yr old. She's in there -- and I command her presence when I hold young company. I remember what it was like to be 18. You are so completely unrooted. Your weight on the Earth is light yet. Everything is a curiosity. Who you are is an enigma to you. You are so utterly flexible you are willing to let anything in. And see how it feels. When I am with him I feel that diluted, uncentered, blob of energy we are at 18. I try to be it, and I realize how foreign it is to me to access her. In fact, it's uncomfortable. It feels risky, knowing who I am & access the place of unknowing for a sec. 

Using things. Feeling good enough. 

I'm in a decluttering binge. It's working. My kitchen feels great, much lighter. My closet still needs help, and honesty to know what needs to be in my life anymore. I must admit that the clothes perpetually in my laundry are the ones I wear. I suspect that is about 5% of my wardrobe. The uncomfortable truth. 

I went to Sephora to return my $27 foundation, and the ladies were all like "what cleanser do u use, yr skin looks so gross & dry" (using nicer words).... so I feigned interest in their expensive products. Don't need, don't need, don't need. But her little speech got me thinking, I should moisturize more all-over, not just the crow feet corner of my eyes. Guess what, I have like 3 or 4 moisturizers in my cabinet. I realized that because they are rather expensive, i don't exactly lather them on my face. Like, I don't really use them as intended. Frankly I think they get old + expire and tami is still scared to use them.  So now I am cleansing, and lathering that stuff all over my face. The joy of finishing a bottle, freeing up space. I am literally on a spending freeze. My minimalism books are so true. Like every time U make a purchase think hard, think hard. Is it a necessity. It's sorta why U should buy the expensive vaccuum rather than the one that will fall apart, that costs $25 at walmart. I've done that! WTF??

I dunno about U, but I'm starting to get sucked into the minimalism craze. Like, my life is sorta symbolically packed to the brim with emotional baggage. Before I cleaned remy's closet - oh boy!! Talk about skeletons in the closet. Now, I literally do have like 4 sets of linens. Some that don't fit, some just hanging out collecting dust. Unreal. Some Frank gifted to me. STOP THE GIFTING!!! Same for like Pyrex dishes. What am I, a granny visiting multiple grandchildren with quiches? It makes no sense. So I'm doing some donating, etc. It is going slowly. But I want it to go. Give give give. 

It is as if I have the stuff of someone married with 2 kids. 

And so the absense of that makes me feel overwhelmed. I rarely do laundry because it is all so much. Too much. I feel like I want to lie down, like today, and like stare blankly into nowhere.

 Please come over & take some of my stuff. It is always sad for me to think that some hipster Hampshire student will have the find of a  lifetime when she sees my stash at Goodwill. 

ess

esselon franky coffee date. So nice a friend once a lover now a friend. 

talked on the phone with Ron. Nice vibe, but his gift comes at a large cost. 

Tuesday no work. There is something that I did that I can only speak of in hushed tones. Well it's a little financial magouille. Just a lil one.

Dream last night that I am pregnant, and Sean is hugging my baby belly, holding a large spoon. 

Such a tactile desire, to be knocked up, I don't know how women get through their 30s without their ovaries driving the car for them right into the ocean. Renegade vehicle. Ready to become a stoner baby mama. Scary. 

This past weekend spent much time with rem, here in the valley, in that stone silence we became cool with. Drunken evening FB chat with whitney who says that  if he can't bring anything to the relationship, don't even consider it. he can't. He is in the same hell as before. He could've had it all, in the words of Adele. I still need to look at my own path. Yes, it feels so comfortable to be with him. But it's not what I want... him so lost on his path... me trying to rescue him..It doesn't like co-supportive, but i've grown to mistake that for love. 

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

Lately feeling like i'm ry's big sister... listening to his stories of his professional toil, stories of trying to stay in the blue, taking shifts at Amore, starting the process of suing that girl. That girl. He is a nice friend to have + watch downton abbey with on sunday nights. He started telling me about how when Hannah was tripping on mescaline, how he played her this noise girl band "Colleen" and how at first  she liked it, and then she really didn't. Those are the stories from the crypt. Like a story from college. 

I love him n stuff, but I was feeling like he wasn't connecting to me emotionally. I had a crazy wkend w rem, like some of my serious feelings are about the frank feeling of failure in my professional life... and I think he's chosen to not enter into so serious a mindspace in his life. Hence the pizzas and the weed.  So we talk about like drugs. That is frankly a boring subject to me. Like "I've heard that the high u feel from hash is like more intense, kindof slower...." etc. Or, "we should try MDA together, its really like lovey dovey...etc" 

Hmmmmm. Lookin lookin lookin. Valley living. 

Is this It

 This can be a message to my friend or a message to the atmosphere. 

why at amherst coffee does it always seem like WMUA jazz hour. like that is deemed the music of classy people. 

sometimes U come to noho coffee and the ppl here are working and are like beautiful, and U like tell yourself that they have figured out the secret to happy living. like they leave their coffee job and go paint murals and run into their neighbors and go pick up their weekly vegetable ration, and while sipping locally brewed cider thay conceive a child who will one day go to the Hartsbrook school.  Tee hee. That is like the valley dream. 

It kinda exists but then something about having no culture to stick your face into kinda dulls the monotony. Monotony really being monotonous. Or you need to be constantly stimulated by travel, trips to boston, NYC, weekly weed revelations, and Dub Step music seeping into your bones.a relative of reggae.

Ryan knew the perfect gift for me. Goberry gift card. How I love it. And some cool tupperwarey things that steams veggies. Like I don't know how to. That dude and I are still hanging out. A pervasive sense of anxiety however surrounds us. Me, eating my cuticles till I see bone.  So we've established that we have no future, yet we continue to hang like boyfriend girlfriend and sleep together. Its kinda like when you turn off a light and a second of light lingers.  Like in the olden days. 

I feel nervous now, like swimming at my own risk, because they my guard is down i'm like falling straight in love with him, logic defied. 

I thought it would dissipate kinda organically, like no speech needed. But speech may be needed. I'm the classic woman who can't stand around waiting for him to achieve his dreams and smoke weed erryday, while I wager a bet on him. 

This was put into priority I think because molly told me in NY that she got pregnant using the method that I use. Thinking of myself, the elation of conceiving, mixed with a feeling that he is a reluctant parent. and etc. etc. etc. 

So, this is a fantasy land that I think we would prefer not to leave. Especially when it is so cold. But I think he said "I love you" yesterday and this time it wasn't an accidental dismorphacation of "I love your pussy".  HAHAHA..

I think that I should go, nico is in the car, and I could do a bunch of cleaning at home..

XO

This is kinda cool

 really cool  this internet thingy.