Badass

 

Making a move

I'm investigating GL-1 drugs for weight loss. I've struggled with weight my entire life, in no small part due to having Congenital Adrenal Hyperplasia, but I'm sure I could also eat better.

This is the first I've talked of this publicly. I haven't put it on Facebook, which is a lot for me. I usually overshare over there. I haven't told my closest friends. I'm just starting -- so to speak -- small.

I think

I'm better off not being friends with Michael. I may miss him, but it doesn't mean we should continue to be involved with each other on any level. 

I reached out to him to apologize for what happened, but I said I didn't think I was restarting the friendship. I stand by that.

On pizza

BAZ: Mommy, is pizza from both New York and Italy?

ME: There are a lot of different types. Chicago-style at Zachary's, for one.

BAZ: What's Berkeley-style?

ME: Broccoli.

BAZ: I'm not dealing with that.

Barenaked Ladies, "Brian Wilson"

Drove downtown in the rain
Nine thirty on a Tuesday night
Just to check out the late night
Record shop
Call it impulsive
Call it compulsive
Call it insane
But when I'm surrounded I just can't stop
It's a matter of instinct
It's a matter of conditioning
Matter of fact
You can call me Pavlov, dog

Ring a bell and I'll salivate
And how'd you like that?
Dr. Landy, tell me
You're not just a pedagogue

Cause right now I'm
Lyin' in bed, just like Brian Wilson did
Well I'm
I'm lyin' in bed, just like Brian Wilson did, oh

So I'm lyin' here
Just starin' at the ceilin' tiles
And I'm thinkin' about
What to think about
Just listenin' and relistenin'
To smiley smile
And I'm wonderin' if this is
Some kind of creative drought because

I'm lyin' in bed
Just like Brian Wilson did
Well I'm
I'm lyin' in bed, just like Brian Wilson did, oh

And if you wanna find me I'll be
Out in the sandbox
Just wonderin' where the hell all the
Love is gone
I'm playin' my guitar and buildin'
Castles in the sun, woh wo woh
And singin', "fun, fun, fun"

I'm lyin' in bed
Just like Brian Wilson did
Well I'm
I'm lyin' in bed, just like Brian Wilson did, oh

I had a dream
That I was three hundred pounds
And though I was very heavy
I floated 'til I couldn't see the ground
I floated 'til I couldn't see the ground, oh
Somebody help me
I couldn't see the ground
Somebody help me
Couldn't see the ground
Somebody help me

Because I'm
I'm lyin' in bed
Just like Brian Wilson did
Well I'm
I'm lyin' in bed, just like Brian Wilson did, oh, yeah

Drove downtown in the rain
Nine thirty on a Tuesday night
Just to check out the late night
Record shop
(Late night record shop)
Call it impulsive
You can call it compulsive
And you can call it insane, oh, oh
But when I'm surrounded I just can't
Stop

Today's writing

The kids are all abuzz about their spring performance. They won’t tell me what it’s about, only that this is history. Europeans are big on their history. They laugh at Americans who think their country can compete. It’s on their lips, in their publications. Sitting in the English teachers’ office, the reluctant light shafting through the lace curtains, I find a student-geared newsletter that says it all. 

In America, a 50-year-old McDonald’s restaurant made the record books as the oldest of its kind. Americans across the country celebrated. 

Jesus Christ. No wonder they think we’re idiots.

Missing

What happened to Michael's and my friendship sucks. It wasn't about politics. Don't get me wrong, I think his positions are crazy, but it was far more about the unsaid than the overt.

Today's writing

I never wanted a wedding. I never wanted a child. So why did I hyperventilate in the middle of Wenceslas Square? 

Being alone scares the living shit out of me. It’s like this black chasm of just … me, myself, I. And Oliver. But he’s going to die someday. And then it’s just going to be me. Unless I go first. Then he’s going to have to eat me for nourishment. That’s the way these things go. 

My pen is still tearing at the paper. I keep blinking, hoping to evoke tears, but none are coming. I’m not a crier and that fact is terribly inconvenient.

Babes in Bookland is reading Bearded Lady!

 

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Today's writing

When I crossed the bridge from Český Těšín to Cieszyn, a few steps connecting two countries, it was not lost on me that this was kind of a big deal. It wasn’t just about adding a new country to my passport (“The United States of America” the border agent hissed when I handed the blue book to him) but rather an experience that I couldn’t necessarily replicate at home. You have to stop and acknowledge these moments when they occur. We rarely do it, though. Life just shuffles us along, shunting us down the path toward the hereafter. We forget to remember.

Today's writing

Death. Quite the concept. Torture and torment – something entirely outside my experience. Seriously. I can’t compare my own life to carrying armfuls of stones back and forth in the blazing fucking sun for no other reason than to amuse a group of sadists. Never have I worried about whether I was going to be able to eat, despite barely having any money. I’ve always had enough. 

When I was growing up, I had more than enough. I really didn’t want for anything, not monetarily at least. I still thought I was miserable. I mean, I was, and with good reason. My family was completely fucked up. It still is, really. It’s just more fragmented. Everyone lives on their own or with a roommate. No one sees anyone else on a regular basis. I’m the only one who talks to everyone, and even that is relatively truncated, especially when it comes to my mother. 

Sometimes it blows my mind how alone I am in this world. 

That’s how I made it here, so maybe in some weird way I should be grateful. I had so few ties in the Bay Area that I was able to uproot my life for nearly half a year, put everything on hold. Could I have done that if I were married, or even in a serious relationship? If I had kids, or a job that mattered? 

The fact is that I have gossamer wisps for threads at home. No one’s really waiting for me, other than Oliver, and he sleeps more than anything else. I’ve sat in cafes like this one right on Piedmont Avenue, down the street from where I live, and watched as life passed me by. Metaphorically, literally, every -ly you can imagine.

Monterey

We've been in the hotel room since 4 p.m. We checked in an hour earlier and went to Cannery Row. He lasted there for maybe 15 minutes. The fireplace is on. We're watching Food Network and eating leftover Indian. I hope -- hope -- he will remember this fondly. 

Today

Parenthood is all about watching train accidents on YouTube and teaching him homespun homilies.