synonym- i’m sick and this one is a little deranged. sorry. not sorry. welcome.

in trying to shift myself out of feeling like shit: almost all the synonyms for humble are bad. it boils down to doormat

how can this be? am i really a tool of the patriarchy?

i’m a flower in my hair, dirty-footed comfort mistress.   i’m grounded in the earth even as i hide in my wooden house and avoid touching all things natural… (it is the last day of February, and we’ve had a snowfall..) but i’ve got houseplants.



how could this person be a doormat?

don’t i throw on another beaded necklace, some rings and whisk that man right out of my hair?

but its not that simple. i can’t really wear rings as i find them too distracting, mostly. but i wish i could. my fingers are too thin, also, so its hard to find one in a store that fits. but so be it. i suppose the truth gets unbearably, boringly complicated.  who wants to read that?

i’m being treated for a double ear infection . went to the walk-in yesterday and am on antibiotics and garlic cloves in the ear. fragrant.  i’ve been in bed for most of the last two days.  i get up, get the kids ready and on the bus, take a bath and go back to bed.

this is my brain:

J’s right, you aren’t really working, you are just taking advantage of his money.  If you had a real job you wouldn’t be in bed, you’d be off to work. You can’t work at home. You’re not aggressive enough.  …But my ears! What if they got worse and then I was deaf? then what?  Yeah, but at least you’d be working, like a real man.  …I’m no man.  Yeah, but you should be. Thats who gets stuff done.

So. woah. right?

No announcement of sex restructuring coming anytime. HOWEVER. my brain is not doing me any favors. this isn’t going to help me get better in any way. Aren’t I in charge, at least nominally, of what goes on in there?  Can’t my gypsy woman come in waving her arms and slap some sense or quiet into my brain?



rings on her fingers and bells on her toes.

i’m just sick. let me lie down in peace. maybe i’ll get better quicker. (i’m talking to my brain)


i have another hour til the first kid gets home. evidently there is some new thing on fortnite so i’m sure i won’t see him til dinner.  banner parenting, banner.

love you guys, see you again soon.


(uwme)  you me. big smile .


School ‘vacation’. Dickish.

so the kids went with their dad for a four day skiing trip. its school break. they left school a day and a half early, i think to accomodate the friend they were going with who is from another state and parochial school. anyhow. whoosh. what an adventure, so thrilling… all 3 now proficient and unafraid of skiis, hills and lifts.

for those of you, like me, who did not grow up near mountains, skiing isn’t a way of life. its a gargantuanly expensive up and down repetition that has a whole lot of class issues tied up in it.  Never you fear, this is a white girl who is noticing stratifications in white society.  I’m not sure theres any other color on the mountains, really.  tell me if i’m wrong.

christmas cold height high
Photo by PhotoMIX Ltd. on

i’m glad my kids got the opportunity. I’m confused about money and can’t tell which are my deep-seated issues from childhood, which are my issues from money and divorce and which are just white girl who doesn’t-get-to-go issues.

all very white. and all very dickish.  maybe on my part, maybe on the part of skiiers.  i can’t tell.

it IS fun, i know it. and i went once maybe when i was a kid with my dad, and once or twice with my kids when they were fewer… its fun, i get it. exhilarating.  if i lived closer, it might be a thing i do.   but probably not.


they arrive home and within a half hour i literally have an 11 year old in tears because i am not taking him to a hotel overnight.  and because vacation is so boring, and i am a liar.  30 minutes after a four day skiing trip.



let them eat the dustbunnies i say. welcome to the home of boring rules and being bored and staying home and making beds and closing chickencoops and having a bedtime and no screens before school and all that joy.  its fun for me too.  believe it.

and when you are old, you will remember skiing and you will remember laughing with your mom and her face when you told her you almost gave up but didn’t and then there was all that dancing in the kitchen and the laughing and the music and the yelling and the hugging.  all of it.  you will remember all of it.  and it won’t feel boring.

i promise.


state of the union. #forreal

i’ve not had a full week where the kids were in school all five days since christmas. i love having them home, but its not even been snowing and its February. and while, that winter a couple years back, i did go ‘the shining’ crazy with the ‘too much snow’… i’m going to be sad if we don’t even have one big snow this year.  today is spring. its February.

work is weird. see above paragraph for its first sentence. i work at home, so when there’s a person home sick and i have to tend? mm. work stoppage. and my work is weird and inconsistent in the first place, so all the more do i need to be available when it appears. but hello MLK day. (i love him, and wish his words tattooed on our current leaders face.) and then a half day for teachers to be force-taught something by the administrators. then there was something else, sickness maybe? damn.

but i’m editing a hot hot hot dominant-submissive romance novel right now so it is a blessing and a privacy issue that the children need to be out of the house for me to do that particular work. (oye. whoosh. side eyes, man. happy, sweaty work. ) and they are gone, and the work is underway, and after the first reading where your body is on fire? after that you can go back and edit for verb tenses and the their/they’re/there problems that it seems the world still carries…

its better than being a toothpaste cap tightener.

(who can tell me THAT book reference? )

as for the world? the politics? i can’t even handle the snark anymore.  its just full-on disgust. for all of them. the world is literally crumbling and the dozen chickens are squabbling over the same three bits of food.

the president is a moron. yes, i do think that. and yes, i do think he is in collusion with the Russians.

yes, i think the Democrats and Republicans and the billionaires are responsible and happy about the current idiocy in politics.  it keeps everything just fine for them, doesn’t it?

all cozy cozy.

ugh. 0202191520

my boys play deathmatch indoor soccer, or at least, thats what i call it.  its like politics… pinball for the humanbeing, ceaseless running after a ball that races towards you.

unlike politics, this game is fun to watch.


Self-Check, and then WHAT? (bullets AND asterisks)

So. if one realizes that she is setting up dates just to avoid doing stuff by herself, then what?

should something be shifted?

STUPID ONLINE DATING again. and what it makes you think about.

  • i had two dates this weekend. technically three, but we mutually cancelled the third because it was too much of a hookup connection and that is easy, but not what i am looking for currently. boy* was nice that it was mutual, he’s probably a nice, but randy fellow.

  • i don’t really want to have two dates again this weekend. at the end of it all, i felt like my weekend had sort of been hijacked by the experience.  could’ve been the three sports events too… but sunday lunch getting the kids and being wiped out isn’t really my bag.

  • one of the dates was really nice. i would have liked to be invited out to dinner by him. he plants trees. no invite yet. and none coming. boy.**

  • the other date was also nice, but definitely an incompatible situation, and thats where i have to stop to maintain graciousness.

  • so, what? i’m… what? why do i feel like i need to make decisions? like, Decisions? wild directional changes because of a mundane and uninteresting weekend?


*can’t tell you how long its been since i ‘decided’ not to go for the easy.  damn. easy is way more fun than ego-bruising curiosity games.

**RESILIENCE!!   ….it takes me a good ten hours to get my ego back to a good spot (it being one of the first times i ever didn’t get a second date request…) … ten hours and then i can honestly say that it doesn’t have to do with me, as much as it does with him, what he is looking for and what he wants for his life, whatever that may be.   during that ten hours, though? boy.* i am full of the suckitude and the fears.  am i too fat now? am i not as funny as i think? am i too much of a mom? too much? too much? too much?

*** unconnected asterisks***   all the men i’ve had first dates with? it wasn’t about them, either. it was about me. and what i can handle, or not, or how much ‘drama’ i foresee in my pretend mind…. and some of them were really nice, and good. wanting a second date sucks. thats where the hard stuff actually is. (but also some more fun stuff.)

i want the fun stuff. I WANT THE FUN STUFF!






it used to be that the heroes vanquished the dragons. now, i wonder how we could all become dragons.

 what would happen if i actually did stop feeding them? 

8, such a pretty curvature.

low-lying pants still haven’t died out. i’m still not interested in seeing what kind of underwear you guys are wearing. still. and now i’m 44. i’m so old. why is that style still around? everything else has gone the way of the dodo and then returned. why has this one never left? thank god skinny pants also exist. at least there is variety. but skinny pants lying low so i still see your butt? damn, man, stop.  

You are allowed to be in a season of discovery and deep repair. You are allowed to be unformed and wordless as you change. You are allowed to pour time and energy into inner transformations that no one can see but you. in an email… 

Anna Viola Lovind was talking about safety today, and creation… over on instagram. its so beautiful, and i’m all up in it.  I don’t even know if you can link to instagram like this… but she’s @annaviolalovind and its worth watching her there, for beauty’s sake.

today i sent my 13 year old boy to a school that had a threat yesterday.  we got a call from the superintendent last night saying that they, and the police, were taking it very seriously, and school would run normally today, wednesday. this morning i called the police station to assure myself that the threat had been removed.  WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK.  the world. the community. we’ve already all failed. WHAT THE FUCK. i sent him because he had a basketball game and he would not want to miss that.  FUCK .  FUUUUUUUCK. my heart hurts. minute to minute. hurts. 

I thumped my chest this morning, with my sick kid, because WE are Glorious. still. 

I miss holding hands with someone. If you can, go do that. Don’t take it for granted.BarnPhotoi dream of a barn like this, as an art studio, or a house for me in my old age… i’m not that complicated, as it turns out. also, interesting to note: do i really envision sharing it? can i ?