The Brilliance of Resilience

Like any good queer, I've been thrust into astrology with increased passion. I blame memes. I am playfully (and not really) obsessed with the idea of my own Sagittarian nature, even if most rational people find Astrology's resurgence in popularity to be pointless and nauseating. Something that struck me about the idea of the Sagttiarian (if you've made it this far and hate astrology, please keep reading...if only because you love me and believe that I'll bury the lead like I always do and get to some "profound" statement) is their ability to express grim realities in blunt and honest ways in one breath while continuing to enjoy what life has to offer in another. Kind of like a, "we're fucked but it doesn't mean we can't go RIGHT NOW and get tacos out of this gas station," kind-of-way. Do we realize that the realities of the world don't necessarily negate all that it has to offer in the meantime? Or, is it the true addiction to freedom

You have done some good work, Dorothy. But, not enough people like you. I've been in 7852 conversations about who the best Golden Girl is, who is the favorite golden girl , who is the wisest Golden Girl, etc. So many say Dorothy Zbornak. They say it because Dorothy's wit is acerbic and smart. Being in the blow back of a Dorothy insult feels alive and the recipient is ready to create their own Dorothy: their own blow back, and their own piece of the cheesecake - even if just for a moment in time while resuming back to their Rose or their Blanche. But, no one actually likes  all of Dorothy. Dorothy is the last to have the date. Dorothy looks like Fess Parker. Dorothy is the one that has the fewest friends and the most painful stories about love, risk and vulnerability. Dorothy is the one that is the butt of the jokes about everything - but intellect and morality (except for sleeping with that married guy. Even Dorothy gets the blues). She is the subject of ridicule in

One of the many tasks that fall under the umbrella of my work responsibilities used to include sending files to K. K was a diminutive woman with cat photos and drawings in her cube. The files that went to K were labeled with her name over and over and over - her name becoming synonymous with her part of the process - the hole to kick the work to. I got to know K a little bit - brought her some Kombucha and chatted. She liked lavender. I remember K staring at me blankly when I openly wept at the work cafeteria's televisions blaring Hilary Clinton's concession speech. We didn't agree, but we still worked together well. K lost her job to an outsource but stayed on longer than the rest - she had institutional knowledge that wasn't respected, but respected enough to buy her time. She shared about what she'd do afterwards. It was a superficial conversation about gardening and resting. I knew that I'd likely never see her again.Two weeks ago, I found out that K d

I remember very vividly - a moment when I told two women at work, "Dreams are for rich people." It wasn't the ravings of an angry woman that was paid sixty cents on a man's dollar. It wasn't the depressed response of a sick brain. It is a commandment. It is how a pragmatic mind copes with the realities of the time while still striving for the most (to be the most) - at any given moment. As a child, I made up a story about my origins. A child that traveled seven-thousand miles via hot air balloon from India to Western Pennsylvania. Now, I am vividly authentic about what actually transpired through yesterday. I do my best to see these occurrences for what they are and not just how they made me feel while pairing them with the actualities of what my life can become as the person that I am now. That's mutable. That's nothing and everything. In the words of my therapist who heard it from a healer - it will all end badly. Meaning: we'll die. The peop

I love the American Maid character on, "The Tick." The Tick Wiki provided a brief description of the character, American Maid is quite noble in character, and unlike most of the "good" characters featured in the series, she is actually relatively effective as a superhero. Having no superpowers, she relies on her Olympic-level trained acrobatic skills. This is hilarious No real superpowers but effective and noble, who could ask for anything more? Making the most of what life deals. Totally self-made maid. I read something similar this morning in a push notification not too long ago (I need to turn that shit off): Kylie Jenner's about to be the youngest, "self made," billionaire. Forbes says she made $900 million from Kylie Cosmetics. I am in a weird and sad place. I feel the old demons of jealous and distrust creeping in and find that there is so much evidence to let them take up residence. It feels like the constant bomba

When I hurt myself really badly, I pass out. It's happened several times in my life. A wave of nausea sweeps over me and and suddenly I wake up on the floor not knowing how much time has passed.  Today, I twisted my shoulder, recognized the feeling and when I went down, I hit my head on my bathtub so hard I have given birth to a giant bump on my forehead that is probably going to grow a face at any moment. I woke up naked and dazed, crawled over to sit on the toilet and called Mike. Then, promptly passed out again as soon as he answered...ripping down the shower curtain. If you're going to do something, you really need to do it, I guess. I staggered to bed and lay there for a minute talking and then I felt embarrassed about the whole thing. Not because I pass out when I feel extreme pain - that's just my body's way of dealing with it. But because here is yet another thing that requires telling people something unpleasant about myself that will require extra maint