Emotional Creativity

Thug Kitchen

Mon, 25 Mar 2013 12:56:37 -0400

Thug Kitchen :

Combines my love of cooking with my love of cursing. Damn son. Thank you.

I

Mon, 25 Mar 2013 12:50:29 -0400

I :

This clip of FGCU’s post season dunks really fires me up.

“I just don’t know if it’s a good idea.” He said. I nodded. I understood why he was scared, I’d...

Sat, 09 Mar 2013 12:23:18 -0500

“I just don’t know if it’s a good idea.” He said.

I nodded. I understood why he was scared, I’d been there before. I waited a moment before I said, “It’s simple really.”

“How so?”

“Either I’m the person you’ve waited your entire life to meet, or I’m not.”

I shrugged as if I didn’t care, as if thoughts of him didn’t make my heart inflate with plasmotic joy. I could have been easier on him, less scary, less intense, less me. I didn’t need to demand that he consider “forever” or admit to being a romantic, but that wasn’t my style.

Sometimes when you hold the treat up extra high, the dog jumps and misses, sometimes it doesn’t even try, and sometimes (rarely but sometimes) it jumps and claims it.

Briefly I considered how healthy it was to compare men to pets.

Blowing past blow outs

Thu, 07 Mar 2013 20:58:00 -0500

Someone once told me that they think I feel things more deeply than most. I’m not sure if that’s true but I seem to be more in touch with my “feels” than the average bear.

That said, there are a lot of emotions wrapped up in blowing out an ACL, that I skipped past. It was easier to focus on getting through the surgery and physical therapy. I could always deal with the fear, anger, and frustration later. So I swept it under the rug in my mental apartment… and forgot about it.

Nine months later those emotional dust bunnies sneak out, usually when I least expect… after a run or hard work out, released from where the hid embedded in my muscles. Specifically they include…

Fear. Like the fear that I’ll reinjure myself. My body remembers that sickening feeling of my knee extending into positions only achievable through injury (or demonic possession).

Anger. I am so pissed at myself and my body for letting me down, for not training enough for not being strong enough… for getting old. Stupid maybe but its how I feel.

Frustration. That it takes so long, that it seems to much harder than I remember. That results seem slower… then I wonder maybe I am not doing enough … And then I [fear] that I am not doing enough… and so it goes.

The most challenging thing for me this go-round has been dealing with how much of my identity is wrapped up with being active. I’ve always considered myself a cerebral, geeky chick with an active hobby that I love. Somewhere along the way I started doing a bunch of yoga, running and hiking. Having that taken away – kind of blew and totally depressed me. Little d depression, but still, I found it hard to get up in the morning, which made me mad at myself [please see *anger*]

Enough excuses. I’ve finally moved, found a gym with awesome classes and a sport league. Time to do work.

"If you can laugh, you can find joy and if you have joy, you can find hope."

Sun, 03 Mar 2013 11:04:38 -0500

“If you can laugh, you can find joy and if you have joy, you can find hope.”

My new jam

Fri, 01 Mar 2013 16:39:26 -0500

Those stairs aren’t going to climb themselves.

That book isn’t going to write itself.

That table isn’t going to pivot itself.

That beer isn’t going to drink itself

No breath.

Thu, 14 Feb 2013 10:30:31 -0500

The ghost of my living, beating heart goes out – imagining the unimaginable prison for those who gave birth in a reality gone so horribly wrong. All that love, that potential, the promise of so much life – vanished.

“I am so sorry.” I think, even though I know those are not the right words. There can be no, “right words”. Words do not exist without letters and sense and there is none of that to be found. Not here. Not now.

I struggle to remind myself, “enduring tragedy is how we grow, how we are defined, how we are shaped.” These things are true but they are also just words and in this time words have no meaning.

So for now I let the hurt

… and love ….

leak into the ether and wait for a time when words have meaning and some use can be made of tragedy.

[whispered thoughts from my draft folder]

So I signed up for e-harmony yesterday... (Not sure how I feel about online dating, but it’s good to get off the sidelines.) While reviewing my “matches” last night.

Thu, 14 Feb 2013 09:15:18 -0500

So I signed up for e-harmony yesterday... (Not sure how I feel about online dating, but it’s good to get off the sidelines.) While reviewing my “matches” last night.

Me: Hmmm this guy’s friends are much hotter than him. That could be a problem.
Mom: I don’t know, that seems like a really good reason to go out with him.
Me: Wow.

kellysue: accioharo: It’s not that I didn’t read comics before...

Wed, 13 Feb 2013 10:30:00 -0500

kellysue:

accioharo:

It’s not that I didn’t read comics before Kelly Sue DeConnick’s Captain Marvel. I did. But I never once considered going into the comic book store and making a pull list/subscribing/preordering/etc. I just read stuff online, read trade paperbacks, checked stuff out at the library, and read books that my roommate had. But count me as another person who fell so in love with Captain Marvel that I went “I just have to support this title,” and I did, and then I found other titles I wanted. And now I have a thirteen book long pull list. That probably isn’t much compared to some people, but considering that back in November I had zero? Yeah…

These are just the Marvel books because I couldn’t fit everything into one photoset. The non-Marvel is HERE.

This is AMAZING to me.

I kind of feel like we can pack up the stage and go home now, you know? OUR WORK HERE IS DONE.

Who else remembers their gateway comic? I’ve come and gone so many times, I’d have multiple answers, but the biggest ones—the ones that got me in the store regularly and looking for other titles—would probably be the Perez/Wolfman Tales of the Teen Titans and Gaiman’s Sandman.

You?

For me 1.) it started when two boys let me read their G.I. Joe’s in 5th grade. Then 2.) My first day of middle school, I made two new friends, the girl who shared her Fall of the Mutants comics with me and the X-men, who amazed me with their heroic sacrifice.

I will admit that I wasn’t prepared when someone handed me Sandman’s the Hunt, a year later. Death’s older brother terrified me (still does). But 3.) when I was ready, I came to love him and much of the Vertigo line for the wickedly clever story telling, both in words and pictures.

Wow this reminds me how wonderful Red Rocks is as a venue. If it...

Tue, 12 Feb 2013 15:17:25 -0500

Wow this reminds me how wonderful Red Rocks is as a venue. If it isn’t on your bucket list it should be.

Theories & Stories

Sat, 09 Feb 2013 10:30:37 -0500

“Why are you still single?”

The corner of my mouth flicks up as I consider several ironic retorts. I’m not sure what answer this woman, a friend of family I haven’t seen in a decade, expects. I wish I had an easy one, something like I’m a lesbian with multiple incurable diseases, poor hygiene, who weighs 500 pounds, is covered in warts and does not believe in sex, ever. (As far as I know, none of that is true, although I have wondered if there is a sign on my forehead written in a hidden language only men can read, that reads “Run”.) No, for once, I try sincerity.

“There are several theories on the subject.” I say. “My aunt thinks I’m afraid of commitment. My mom thinks it’s because I have poor male role models. My dad thinks I’m too picky. My girl friends think it’s because I’m only attracted to the emotionally unavailable or that I’m emotionally unavailable. Perhaps it’s because I travel too much. Perhaps it’s simply that I haven’t met the right guy or that I’m trying too hard or am not trying hard enough. It could be all of that or none of that.”

I smile and shrugged.

“What do you think?” She asks.

“I don’t know.” I admit. “I gave up overanalyzing years ago.”

“Well then what do you want?” She asks. The question is a challenge. I am guessing her theory is that I don’t know what I want. I hesitate, but not because I don’t have an answer.

“I want someone who belongs in my story.” I say simply.

I don’t add that I want some one with an imagination, who souls exists everywhere and nowhere, someone to co-author their life with me. I don’t say that because I can tell she already thinks I’m crazy. So I smile and change the subject.

Tonight

Fri, 08 Feb 2013 21:30:41 -0500

Gym

Write

Drinks

Photo

Thu, 07 Feb 2013 09:35:50 -0500

I love the internet.

Fri, 25 Jan 2013 09:09:24 -0500

I love the internet.:

Reason # 11298 - easy macro to combine data sets in Excel. <3

Connaître

Sun, 20 Jan 2013 17:41:00 -0500

Connaître [trans: to know] is distinctly different from Savoir [trans: to know]. Unlike smug confident Savoir which professes to own facts; Connaître is the word you use when referring to people, places, books, profound concepts, and anything else one should not claim to fully own.

It’s an entirely correct nuance - not to mention adorable.

Anyway I was thinking about this yesterday while running in my home town (now my current town), past my elementary school, past the bridge I skinned my leg falling off my bike, past my brother’s little league fields, past the pool I lifeguarded at. I am becoming re-acquainted with the land of my childhood and it is very much like visiting an old friend. It made me think a little of my exes (New York, Brooklyn, New Haven, Philadelphia) - with just a little heartache.

martinaboone: The Shapes of Stories by Kurt Vonnegut via Kami...

Sun, 13 Jan 2013 11:15:19 -0500

martinaboone:

The Shapes of Stories by Kurt Vonnegut via Kami Garcia

Nesting. Word is if you leave your appliances on the counter you...

Sat, 12 Jan 2013 10:53:01 -0500

Nesting. Word is if you leave your appliances on the counter you are much more likely to use them. #yayslowcooker

Friday night and Starbucks is hopping. The reclaimed hardwood benches and tables are filled with...

Fri, 11 Jan 2013 20:26:05 -0500

Friday night and Starbucks is hopping. The reclaimed hardwood benches and tables are filled with middle-aged African men. I do not mean African American men, although they are likely citizens. It is a convivial gathering of African ex-pats. I overhear strands of what sounds like Arabic amidst frantic gesticulation. I do not have the courage to approach and ask what they speak or where they are from, I’m guessing based on the lovely trilling lilt which blurs into a warm babble. R.E.M.’s “Man on the Moon” undoubtedly part of Starbucks Friday night play list, harmonizes in the background. For a minute I sit, simply appreciating the atmosphere. I blow on my peppermint tea, which is far too hot to drink and take a deep breath appreciating this world before plunging into one of my own creation.

2013 Bon Appetit Food Lover's Cleanse

Thu, 10 Jan 2013 21:32:08 -0500

2013 Bon Appetit Food Lover's Cleanse

Limbo

Wed, 09 Jan 2013 11:36:28 -0500

“Limbo.” That is what the last few months has felt like.

Just a quick recap. September my roommate (who was fired in June), told me she needed to move out, October would be her last month. Rather than trying to find someone to lease her “room” in our technically illegible warehouse conversion loft, I also decided to move out.

November and December, through the magic of Tumblr I found a room to escaping the worst of Hurricane Sandy and giving me time to plot THE BIG MOVE, which brings me to…

I’ve moved South!

For lots of reasons the universe has sent me back south, to the land where I grew up. While I will miss NJ full service gas and iconic NYC, I am overjoyed to find trees not surround by concrete and carve out a new life here.

While I lived in NYC and Brooklyn I was never happier than when I woke early to nearly deserted streets, I loved walking around warehouses, which most people avoided in favor of less “sketchy” more worn paths. That was one clue. The path less traveled has generally been my favorite.

I’m looking forward to spending more time with my cousins, cooking with and for them! I’m looking forward to “exploring” my new old hometown, making new friends, and reconnecting with old ones. Really excited to be nesting. Love. Love. Love. My new place.

Anyway that’s all for the moment. Still writing and working on my project. It’s coming along!

More to come.