Geez, it's been 20 years

12 years of marriage

Portland, 2011.

Berkeley, 2020.

Berkeley, 2018.

Prague, 2008.

Sunday afternoon

Listening to Tracy Chapman, "The Promise", and she breaks my heart as always. I remember swaying with Adam to that one at her concert at The Catalyst in Santa Cruz, before we'd gotten married or even lived together.

Tomorrow is our 12th anniversary. Man have we been through the shit ... but we are still here, still kicking, still loving, still bantering. Thank God.

Nadia Bolz-Weber, "Sunday Prayers"

Sunday Prayers

April 5th, 2020

Aka Palm Sunday

Dear God,

Some of us are exhausted by a constant stream of bad news.

Some of us are exhausted from the effort of trying to not freak out.

Some of us are exhausted by not knowing how we will pay rent.

Some of us are exhausted from the effort of trying to entertain and educate and feed and love children who are stuck at home.

Some of us are exhausted by the 13 hour shifts in a hospital we no longer recognize, working a job we are afraid might kill us.

Some of us showed up to this pandemic with pre-existing physical and mental health conditions that were already exhausting. 

Some of us are exhausted by loneliness.

Some of us are exhausted by waiting so long for a new season of Succession.

And some of us are exhausted by the effort of trying to make this all ok for everyone else.

Life is so strained and tender right now.

I know that not a single one of us is promised another day, God.

But I guess I am asking for the strength for just the one we are in. 

Give us today our daily strength. 

Strength for today, and if you could spare it, bright hope for tomorrow.

AMEN.

Ain't easy

Fuck, being a parent is hard right now. You're tripping that balance between being honest and not putting your emotions on your kids. Is any one of us doing it the right way? So long as we're doing it the right way for us and our loved ones, who's to complain?

But really, what the fuck am I saying? We can all complain. That's life. Every book I see of Bazzy's makes me think about the places where I bought it: New York, Sausalito, San Francisco, and on and on. All these fucking places that are off limits. And to think: we're the lucky ones. We're in our bunker, safe. For now.

Watching Baz

He upends a glider and climbs all over it. "I'm a penguin," he says, and slides down the chair's back to the hardwood floor.

I love being a parent, especially in these moments when he's walking the edge of being irritating but instead winds up being super cute. He means the world to me.

Sometimes I miss old friends

To contact or not to contact? That is the question ...