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Friday, December 31, 2021

Savoring 2021.

 This hasn't been the easiest year. COVID has made everything difficult, and the world is a little scarier than it used to be. But my word for the year was Savor, and I think I've fulfilled that.

I savored sanity and stability, starting two new medications that pulled me out of a lifeless depression. 

I savored my relationship with Josh, ever reminded why I chose him. 

I savored Oliver's growth as Zoloft soothed his wild anxiety, freed his mind for greater language comprehension, and helped him adjust to a new school where he is now thriving.

I savored eighty-five books, reading over 150% of the number of books I chose for my GoodReads challenge (fifty-six). 

I savored three wonderful classes and several seminars on writing and got to know my favorite author.

I savored completing the third draft of my novella. 

I savored getting back to the theatre.

I savored our town home with its hardwood floors, little garden (in which I planted a miniature rose that continues to bloom), extra space, and quiet atmosphere. 

I savored the holiday season with two Christmas trees. 

I savored New York City and three Broadway shows. 

I'm ready for a New Year.

Tuesday, December 28, 2021

My No Buy 2022 Intentions.

 1. I will buy clothes for Oliver and Josh when they need clothes. I will not buy clothes, shoes, jewelry, or accessories for myself unless an essential (such as my coat) is no longer usable. 

2. I will keep a NoBuy2022 List on Amazon for any 2022 wishes. They can come as gifts or wait a year. 

3. I will not buy makeup except when I run out of a basic cosmetic (foundation, eye shadow primer, mascara, or brown eyeliner).

4. I will not buy toiletries (except prescription toothpaste) until I run out of something (including samples) or need it for travel.

5. I will keep my subscriptions: Netflix, Amazon Prime, Kindle UnlimitedSpotify, three magazines, and stickers.

6. I will keep my DPAC season seats.

7. I will only buy restaurant food occasionally, about twice a month or while traveling. This does not count Oliver's post-appointment French fries.

8. If I request an item as a gift, I will not open/use the item until the corresponding occasion (birthday, anniversary, Christmas). 

9. I will not buy books, journals, stationery, or pens. I will use what I have and take full advantage of the library.

10. I will use gift cards, points, and store credit for sold items as I wish (money that I cannot spend on Oliver's care and education). 

11. I will buy reasonable gifts for others.

Saturday, December 25, 2021

An Enchanted Trip.

 Today is Christmas, but most of my celebration took place earlier this week. Back in June, my dad mentioned the idea of taking my family to Disney World. I haven't been to Disney since my honeymoon almost fifteen years ago. But it would be a lot for my son, Oliver, to handle. It didn't seem practical. So my dad had another idea: going to New York City right before Christmas.

I've been obsessed with Broadway shows since I was eight years old (when I discovered Phantom). I now have season tickets to Durham Performing Arts Center, and my best friend, Bruce, and I go to seven or eight shows a year. With that and some one-time events, we've seen about fifty shows together. The magic never fades. We have wonderful seats: front row balcony. We've even seen Phantom together from the front row orchestra. 

But I'd never been to New York City. I had the trip on my Thirty before Thirty list, but when it didn't happen, the idea of going to the New York became more of a fantasy. Our son's special needs make childcare difficult, and his education and treatments are expensive. So between childcare issues and financial difficulties, I didn't think I'd ever make it to New York. 

Over six months, the plan grew. Dad got plane tickets, reserved two rooms at a hotel in the theatre district, and found tickets to FIVE shows for a three-night trip. And my mother and stepfather agreed to keep Oliver at their house for those three nights. I thought about it every day. As it became clear that the pandemic was not fading, I started to think that the trip might not happen. I tried to make peace with that. But I was still mentally packing my clothes and imagining the shows. 

This week, it actually happened. On Sunday, my mom and stepdad came to spend the night. I had our suitcase open in the study. Josh planned to keep to his running schedule, so he had to bring a lot of clothes. I decided to dress up but still wear New Balances every day as I knew I'd be walking a lot. On Monday morning, I finished packing for Oliver, and we zipped up our suitcase. The idea of long-term parking had stressed me out, so my dad and stepmom had offered to pick us up at our house. This was a relief.

Oliver is ten, but he's about four developmentally. However, his language comprehension has bloomed in the last few months. So I told him, "Today, Mama and Daddy are going to go on a trip, and you're going to go to Marmee and Papa's house." He didn't answer, but he seemed to listen. When Dad and Michelle arrived, I reminded Oliver about what was happening. I hugged and kissed him, reminding myself that though we'd never been nearly so far away from him, he wouldn't be aware of the distance. He seemed calm, so Josh and I left the house. Mom and Shane would pack up and take Oliver back to their house. We'd considered their keeping him at our house, but I thought he would miss us too much. He sees going to Marmee and Papa's house as a treat. I texted my mom to ask how Oliver was; she said he was smiling when she buckled him into the car. I'm so grateful that he seemed to understand what I said.

We drove from Fayetteville to Raleigh, checked in, and checked our bag. I was wearing a dark green, silver-flecked tank, jeans, and my Ariel jacket. Josh carried my backpack (containing a change of clothes, toiletries, makeup, prescriptions, a book, a magazine, and my blanket), and we went to the gate. Josh bought us bagel sandwiches with herby cream cheese. Dad and Michelle gave us their first-class tickets. I think I had only flown first class once or twice (I flew frequently as a child). Josh and I were in adjacent rows. Whenever I glanced back at him, he was looking out the window or charting our progress on a map. I drank Sprite out of an actual glass while my neighbor drank rum and Coke. I read some of The Cabin, a YA thriller I'd begun (by the way, I guessed who the murderer was). 

La Guardia airport was packed and huge. Dad texted us to meet him at baggage claim. It was quite a walk, and the signs were a little confusing. I was a bit stressed. But we quickly got our bag. Michelle, Josh, and I waited while Dad figured out the taxi situation. The traffic was major, and I caught bits of the skyline, feeling light and elated. We arrived at The Quin Central Park, one of the fanciest hotels I've visited (again, I stayed in a lot of hotels as a child). Two huge Christmas trees with golden decorations adorned the small lobby. We got our room keys and went to our separate rooms. Josh and I had a while to relax, and I changed into pinstriped pants and a blue sweater, along with a silver and blue bow necklace and the earrings Josh had just given me: miniature Dear Evan Hansen Playbills. 

We had reservations at Bar Centrale, but it had closed due to COVID. So we went across the street to Rue 57, a lovely restaurant with dark wood and red Christmas decor. I had an excellent Shirley Temple. I usually have a resting witch face, but I could feel a constant smile. Here I am. Dad and Michelle encouraged me to try the Dover sole, which I'd never had and which is only available in certain cities. The fish was thin and light with a lemony crust, and I savored the grilled asparagus. Josh had truffle pasta, of which I had two delicious bites that made me rethink my attitude about mushrooms. I was excited that he'd found a good vegetarian option that wasn't a salad. 

Dad and Michelle walked us to the Gershwin theatre, where we would see Wicked. Bruce and I went to the show a few years ago in Charlotte, and I was happy to see it again. My dad walks so quickly, and I was vividly aware of how out-of-shape I am and of old Irish Step Dancing injuries. But we made it and got hand stamps after showing our IDs and vaccination cards. Dad and Michelle left (they had come more for the food than the shows), and we climbed a huge parted staircase. I got in line at the merch table and bought a souvenir program. Programs were among my favorite possessions when I was a child; my grandparents gave them to me, and my dad bought them for me at shows. I looked at them often. 

The theatre was so small compared to DPAC, more intimate than grand. We were on the right side in the third row. People rushed in with coats and scarfs and so many shopping bags. I wrote a few lines in green in my journal (a Paperblanks Slim that fit in my Cinderella purse), and we took a masked selfie. Wicked was a different show from so close. The monkeys were freaky as heck, the steaming metal dragon was right above me, and I could see all the details on the costumes. The great and powerful Oz head was alarming too. Our cast was impressive. Josh had reminded me that we listened to Wicked quite a bit after I first saw it, back when Oliver didn't mind music at home. I enjoyed the show even more than I expected, feeling that it was worth the trip on its own. I thought about the lives of the actors and of the difference between performing in the same theatre every night and traveling to a different city every week. I'd love to read a memoir about touring. I don't know if one exists. 

We walked back to our hotel at a moderate pace. I was surprised to feel too warm instead of too cold. I had a crown brooch with purple and pink rhinestones and roses on my lavender coat--I bought the brooch when I found out about the trip. We stopped at the equivalent of Walgreens for soda and water. We got to The Quin after 10:00, and Dad was waiting for us in the lounge, which had two grouped seating areas, gold bauble wreaths, and shelves of coffee-table art and fashion books. I could have spent a lot of time in that room. Dad had a huge bottle of Fiji water, which I have to admit is pretty good. I drink tons of water (about 3.5 liters that night). 

We slept well in a king-sized bed. Josh woke early to go run in Central Park. I drank Dr. Pepper in bed. Josh came back, and we got ready slowly. I wore Tiffany blue pinstriped pants and a sparkly silver sweater with a hematite bow necklace. We saw Dad downstairs before we walked toward Central Park. We stopped at a Starbucks, and I got an iced (I don't usually like hot drinks) peppermint mocha and a little breakfast sandwich. I enjoyed that in a rustic gazebo in Central Park. I liked passing the horse-drawn carriages and the ice rink but didn't care about trying either. We saw chonky, aging squirrels and walked on a packed-earth nature trail that had skyline overlooks. We marveled at the tallest residential building in the country...and at the incredible floor plans that Josh looked up (I love floor plans)--his and her baths, a library! 

We met up with Dad and walked to Bryant Park, where I wanted to visit the Japanese bookstore Kinokuniya. It had three levels and a lot of manga. Josh took a photo of me sitting on the floor, sifting through the journals. I love buying journals when I travel. I write in the back cover where and when I got each journal. I found a Peter Pauper Press (my favorite) journal I'd never seen, which surprised me. I looked at pens and stationery downstairs. 

After we left Kinokuniya, Dad walked us to the largest Sephora in the US. It was huge and bustling. I looked at everything and chose a little 2022 makeup (sparkly eye shadow and red lip balm). On our way back to the hotel, Josh put in a DoorDash order with a Greek restaurant. Soon after we got to the hotel, our pitzas arrived. Mine had chicken and spinach. They were delicious. We put the leftovers in our little fridge. We spent the rest of the afternoon relaxing. Our Rockettes Christmas show had been canceled. I didn't mind the quiet time. I scribbled and read and snuggled with Josh. The pitza was good cold for dinner. 

We walked to the Majestic theatre via Times Square. The huge screens and hectic lights reminded me so much of experiencing mania. I didn't look too long. The Majestic had so many giant photos from Phantom. We got inside the tiny place and bought a souvenir program and a black jacket with a mask on it. The seats were rose velvet. I saw gold curtains and small(ish) chandeliers above the balcony. A little girl, maybe seven years old, sat with her mother next to Josh. I was once that little girl!

The massive chandelier rose almost directly above our seats in the third row center. Our Christine was very petite and adorable. How did that voice come out of that tiny person? And Raoul was tall. The scenes with the managers are always fun. Phantom switched to a new production design some years ago, which I saw three times with Bruce. Now, it's back to the classic design, including the grand golden staircase for "Masquerade." The little girl next to us was rapt and sometimes stood up to watch. Phantom is creepy, violent, and highly suggestive, but a lot of that went over my head when I was a kid and largely until I was watching the show next to a little girl. I felt grateful that my parents had allowed me to see the show. And here I was, watching it on Broadway! 

We got back to our room after 10:00 (very late for us) and quickly went to sleep after I took a hot shower since the room didn't have a bathtub. The next morning, Josh went down to the hotel gym. Again, I stayed in bed drinking Dr. Pepper. I got ready and put on a black sweater with sequins, gray pants, and my silver Phantom necklace (which I bought several years ago). At 9:30, we met Dad and Michelle downstairs, and Dad put the three of us in a car to go to Strand Book Store, which I just had to see. We arrived just before the doors opened. Apparently, the store carries about 18 miles of new and used books and a great many Strand-branded gifts. I had my phone out, checking my library's catalog for books that caught my attention, placing future holds (I'm booked through April). The Strand tote bags were awesome, but I have a lot of tote bags. I found the best souvenir though: a Denik softcover journal with a black and white Victorian drawing of Strand. Perfect. I explored three of the four floors (the rare books were closed off), checking the fairy tales and looking at glass jars full of pens and markers around the stairs. 

We were there for about an hour. We didn't have a lot of time before our matinee of To Kill a Mockingbird, so we parted from Michelle and started the long walk back. By sheer serendipity, we came to a Paper Source and looked inside. I wanted to buy Sparkle Pop pens but didn't. We stopped at Starbucks and picked up lunch. Then, we sat in colorful metal chairs in Koreatown. I ate a chicken caprese sandwich cold with sides of grapes, apple slices, cheddar, gouda, and brie. I was hungry. 

We got to the Schubert theatre and sat down in, again, the third row, to the right. I had mostly asked to go to the show because Josh likes the book, and Atticus Finch is one of his favorite literary characters. But I ended up loving it. Our Scout had won a Tony for the role, and Jeff Daniels played Atticus. Bob and Mayella Ewell were downright frightening and pitiful, respectively. I'll get to see the show again at DPAC next year.

We walked back to the hotel. Josh went up to our room, and Dad walked me to the Whitby to have afternoon tea with Michelle. I drank peppermint tea, and the waiter caught onto the need to refill my water glass often. A tiered tray arrived with tiny sandwiches, tarts, miniature cakes, and scones. We ate and talked about everything from alcohol to eye makeup. We stayed for about two hours. We walked back to the hotel without getting lost. I went to the room and settled in with Josh after another shower. I was sore from walking what Josh estimated to be 10-15 miles in a couple of days--very active for me. Josh ordered a veggie burger and pesto pasta salad since I was full from tea. 

The next morning, Josh went to run on the Highline and along the Hudson River. I got ready and wore jeans, a lavender tank top with gold threads, and my Phantom jacket. We went down to the lobby and got in a car with Dad and Michelle. At the airport, Josh found breakfast sandwiches for Michelle and me. Dad and Michelle gave us their first-class seats again, and this time, a nice woman switched with Josh so we could sit together. I held Josh's hand and read The Cabin during the brief flight. 

After Dad drove us back home, Josh and I ate quickly and drove to Rockingham to pick up Oliver. When we arrived, Oliver and I ran to each other, laughing. I picked him up and swung him around. That night, I enjoyed my armchair and heated blanket and took a bubble bath, happy.

Sunday, December 12, 2021

A Different Approach to 2022.

 Next year, my husband, Josh, is running his first marathon. He's thinking about the endurance this will require, especially the mental presence and fortitude. I will do something similar, but it will last all year.

Our son, Oliver, has autism and intellectual impairment. He just began attending a private school for children with autism. He loves it, and he has gained amazing new practical, mental, and emotional skills. It's where he needs to be right now. He's also received ABA (Applied Behavior Analysis, an autism treatment), speech, and occupational therapy for years. Josh is an English professor at a local college. I used to do the same, but I am disabled due to bipolar disorder and panic disorder, so my income is limited. Next year, keeping Oliver in school and in therapy will require all the money we have and quite a bit more. 

I love objects. I have collections. I love journals, pens, books, Betsey Johnson jewelry, prestige makeup, and Irregular Choice shoes. Objects are meaningful to me, and I enjoy discovering them. 

But I have decided to do No Buy 2022: no purchases that are not essential. 

The main reason for this is that we simply won't have the money for fun spending while we maintain Oliver's care and education. But I'm also doing it as a cleanse and as an exercise in appreciation and contentment. I have many wonderful objects that I've collected over years or that people have given me. I have a wonderful library minutes from my house, and it's pretty well-stocked. I have a birthday and Christmas and anniversaries. Anything I want can be a gift, or it can wait until next year. Even if we suddenly had more money mid-year, I'd want to see this through. And I have no business spending money for fun when people who love us are helping us.

A member of my family hates the sensation of hunger and jokingly claims to eat frequently enough to avoid the sensation all together. I have to get used to the feeling of wanting. Or maybe my wanting will fade in the joy of reading, wearing, using, and appreciating what I already have.

I'll keep some things: my magazine subscriptions that I've already paid for (Bella Grace, Enchanted Living, and Real Simple), my season theatre tickets, the Spotify and Netflix accounts Josh and I share, and my Silk and Sonder planner subscription. If I find a book I want to read, I'll check the library and either check it out or put it on a list for later. I do, by the way, consider Dr. Pepper an essential. 

I've been moving in this direction anyway out of necessity. But when I saw the Facebook page for No Buy 2022, I thought, yes, this is something I need to do. Not everyone thinks it's a good idea. I think it is. Wish me luck.

Reading: Stillness and Attention.

 I often struggle to read though it is one of my greatest passions. It comforts, informs, develops, and stretches me. I think it's one of the best uses of my time.

I usually have a goal to read 8 books a month. That's up from the 6 books per month goal (which I often didn't meet) that I had when I was working full-time. But last month, I read 15 books. Some of those books were graphic novels or poetry books, which can take less time. I count them as full books anyway because I think they are important and I want to experience a lot of both. But most of the books were novels or short story and essay collections.

So when I didn't read for two days this past week, I wondered, what worked last month?

My not reading is usually a sign of depression or anxiety, situational or clinical. But reading is also just hard for me. I'm a slow reader. I'm easily distracted. I usually have a lot going on with my son who has special needs. So what did I do that made a difference?

Two words came to mind: Stillness and Attention. 

I have to be still to read. I have to stay in one place and not get scattered and not think of the rest of my to-do list. And if I need to get up to tend to my son or pause to pay a bill, I return to that stillness as soon as I can.

I have to pay attention to read. I have to put aside anxiety, random thoughts, and other forms of input. Put my phone down. Focus my curiosity on what I'm reading rather than every thought of "What's this?" and "Does this exist?" I have to quiet my mind.

It's still not easy, but I know what I need to do if I want to read. And I do want to read, daily, widely, and deeply. It's a careful investment.

Saturday, November 27, 2021

Dream Boards.

I started using Silk+Sonder planners in February. One of the features I liked was a self-care Bingo game. I liked it so much that I started making my own, replacing BINGO with DREAM. I make these boards in the notes pages of my planner. 

On my Dream boards, I include things I want to do, wear, try, read, watch, or otherwise enjoy. These can go from doing chores to wearing a certain pair of earrings. I'd love to black-out all my boards, but I try at least to get a Dream streak on each board. Here's one November board I've managed to black-out. My orange Prisma Color pencil is now a tiny stub from my coloring all the squares. 


It's more fun than a to-do list, and it reminds to use what I have and enjoy whatever I can. It's also another way to encourage myself to finish reading books. This is one of the boards I've made for December. 


Whenever I do something that's on a board, I think, "That's a square." Every night, I update my planner and see what I can do to get closer to Dream streaks. 

This post is a square!

Thursday, November 25, 2021

Charms.

 I feel like making a list of little things I love, so here it is. 

  • My white sheets with small blue, green, and purple stars.
  • Writers' memoirs.
  • Josh's poems (especially if they're about me).
  • Vertical layout planners.
  • Book-themed stickers.
  • Christmas hand soaps.
  • Cinnamon scent.
  • Marshmallow candles.
  • Black metal jewelry.
  • Hematite metal jewelry.
  • Seahorses on anything.
  • Snowflakes on anything.
  • Poetry and fiction chapbooks.
  • My tiny ice blue nose stud.
  • The shape of Josh's mouth.
  • Horror that challenges my mind and conscience.
  • Mermaids wearing dresses.
  • This Ariel ballerina doll, which I don't own.
  • Ballet shoes in unusual colors.
  • READ posters.
  • Fairy tale retellings.
  • Moons.
  • Words like emerald, fierce, and case.
  • Checking out library books even if I already have too many at home.
  • Sticky flags with literary characters on them
  • Anna-Marie McLemore word images.
  • Carmen Gimenez Smith poems.
  • Pentel hybrid dual metallic pens.
  • Bulleted lists!
  • Heart prints.
  • Star prints.
  • philosophy 3-in-1s.
  • Bella Grace Field Guide to Everyday Magic magazine.
  • Urban Decay Moondust glitter eye shadows.
  • The Sephora at Kohl's.
  • Fresh Sugar Advanced Therapy lip balm.
  • Paper dolls, especially Gandre.
  • DREAM boards.
  • PB Teen catalogs. 
  • Emott pens.
  • Crowns and tiaras on anything.
  • Amy Brown fairies.
  • ColourPop pressed glitters.
  • Metallic calligraphy markers.
  • Peter Pauper Press journals.
  • Journals with trees on them.
  • Pink-lit jellyfish.
  • Pentel Sparkle Pop and Krazy Pop pens.
  • Red lip stain.
  • My Reduce tumblers in glacier blue and green.
  • Prisma Color pencils.
  • Anna Sui eye shadow palettes.
  • Mechanical pencils with colorful lead.
  • Composition books.
  • Ooly glitter pens.
  • My soft, purple-striped pajamas. 
  • Sakura Gelly Rolls Stardust pens.
  • Flavia Amore products--very hard to find. I can't even find a photo.
  • Ridiculous cat memes.
  • Daphne du Maurier stories.
  • Shirley Jackson stories.
  • Crimson Peak movie and novelization.
  • Aquariums.
  • Reading glasses with rhinestones.
  • Mother-of-pearl opera glasses.
  • Peacocks on anything.
  • Withdrawn library books.
  • My pink pajamas with black bows and polka dots.
  • JewelCrush when I'm stressed.
  • Foxes.
  • Saving and recycling empty pens.
  • My green heated blanket.
  • Oliver's freckles.
  • Good morning texts.
  • Singing show tunes on the way to the theatre.
  • My miniature pink rose.
  • Wild violets anywhere.
  • Zipper pen pouches.
  • Sweet Cinnamon Pumpkin bubbles.
  • Earrings with stars.
  • Cinderella on anything.
  • Colorful fleece.
  • Etsy journeys.
  • American Girl stories and accessories (still love them).
  • "Living with Jigsaw."
  • Drunk Broadway Wicked (rated PG-13).
  • Drunk History "The Other Queen of Egypt" (rated PG-13).
  • My pink baby blanket.
  • Oliver's preemie duck outfit.
  • Star-shaped rhinestones.
  • Staring at Irregular Choice shoes.
  • My glitter slip-on shoes in various colors.
  • Twitter's Magic Realism Bot.
  • Carrot cake--no raisins, too many walnuts.
  • Cherry 7-Up.
  • Cherry Sprite from Sonic.
  • Foot-long plain hot dogs (I'm not sorry).
  • My forest green glasses.
  • The Habit burgers with avocado.
  • Stationery displays at Anthropologie.
  • Cardigans with rhinestones (really anything with rhinestones).
  • Chicken Caesar salads.
  • Books about lifestyles of French women (probably all cliche, but I love them anyway).
  • Seeing Josh read.
  • Buying people books.
  • Silk and Sonder.
  • Michael Crawford's voice.
  • Mini metallic Christmas trees.
  • Skeleton keys on anything.
  • Josh's obsession with purple and teal.
  • Urban Decay Stay Naked powder foundation.
  • Thrive Liquid Extensions mascara.
  • Real Simple.
  • Live Love Polish.
  • Staring at Betsey Johnson jewelry on Ebay. 
  • Every piece of Betsey Johnson jewelry Josh has given me for a birthday or anniversary.
  • Cracking walnuts.
  • The stationery aisle anywhere.
  • Miniature bells (really, anything in miniature).
  • Rosettes.
  • Blue fairy lights. And purple fairy lights.
  • My collection of poetry books.
  • My copy of A Little Princess with full-color Tasha Tudor illustrations.
  • Julie Andrews's Mandy.
  • Healthy Choice steamer mealies.
  • Bitmoji messages.
  • Cups that look frozen.
  • Sparkly picture frames.
  • Strawberry and grape Jolly Ranchers.
  • Lemon and strawberry Starbursts.
  • Apple juice.
  • Cool kisses when Josh is chewing gum.

Saturday, October 30, 2021

On Body Image.

"...learning to embrace our entire selves is not just a spiritual or mental endeavor--it is also an incarnational one."

Aundi Kolber


When I was a little girl, I knew two great beauties in my life: my mother and my best friend, Keely. Both were lovely, blond, buxom, tapered, and sophisticated. Because I did not look like either of them (brunette, with green eyes instead of china-doll-blue or soulful brown, pear-shaped, pale), I did not believe I was beautiful. It's strange to see photos of myself as a little girl now. I was pretty. Then, acne showed up, and my lower body developed long before my upper body. As a young teenager, I often wear jackets wrapped around my waist to hide my hips. My friends teased me for my shape. I was painfully self-conscious about my face, my curves and lack of curves, and even my posture or pose. I'm currently working on a chapbook of poetry about that time called Woman from the Waist Down. 

When I was an older teenager, I realized that I was attractive in my own right, my own way. Boys reinforced this, and sometimes, girls did too. I remember leaving work, a '50s diner where I wore a concealing poodle skirt, to go on a date one night. One of my fellow waitresses said sincerely, "Oh! You have such a cute little body!" Girls are often their own and each other's worst critics, but this stayed with me. I stopped wearing jackets around my waist. I stopped bemoaning my thighs in dressing rooms. 

One of the biggest reasons I was able to make this shift was that my mother was never shy or critical of her body. She was aware, present, confident. She did not see attractiveness as a sin. She could appreciate her physical self without being vain. She felt good about herself. At least this is what I saw, what I perceived. I internalized those messages without her ever saying that I was beautiful or wonderfully made or physically delightful. By the time I neared adulthood, I was not shy of my body. 

My weight has always chosen a point and stayed there. In my twenties, I consistently weighed about 125 pounds and wore a size 4 petite in a curvy fit. I was comfortable with this. I had bigger, stronger legs and hips than a lot of girls, but my body evened out fairly well. I left an early marriage in which my partner did not appreciate my body beyond aesthetics. That was a disaster for a while, but I ended up in a better marriage (by grace alone, probably). 

Then in my late twenties, I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder and panic disorder. Suddenly, my body was flooded with antidepressants, anti-anxiety meds, anti-psychotics, and mood stabilizers. Side effects were terrible, but I knew my life and family depended on my embracing treatment. One side effect was that I gained about 70 pounds. 

I remember telling my dear therapist, Nancy, "I've gained so much weight. And I'm afraid that Josh--"

"Oh, honey," she said. "Men don't care about that. Don't even worry about it." 

I took her at her word. With a lot of swimming and with an antidepressant that happens to help with weight loss, I lost 20 pounds. While everyone was gaining weight at the start of the pandemic, I was losing, dropping from a size 14 to a size 10. Unfortunately, the meds that helped with weight loss were not good for my liver. I managed to keep those 20 pounds off, but I couldn't get anywhere near the 120s again. My body had made its home in the 170s. 

Sometimes I miss my thinner self. But my level of comfort with my body hasn't really changed. I still see myself as attractive. I still perceive my husband as thinking I'm attractive. I feel a little less visible out in the world, but that's okay. 

One day, I felt discouraged about my appearance and told Josh and my mother that I felt like I'd failed. 

My mom said, "You're not a failure because you need medication that affects your weight. You wouldn't call a cancer patient a failure because she lost her hair." 

These women's words stay with me. Cute little body. Men don't care about that. You're not a failure. Again, women are their own and other women's worst critics; I think straight women crave the approval of other women as much as they crave the attention of men. I'm also lucky to have a couple of men in my life who are happy to tell me I'm pretty, stylish, cute, great at applying makeup, and so on. 

My body deals with illness and the effects of treatment every day. But it has carried me for thirty-six years, grown and nourished a baby, and connected me to the person I love most. I love my body, and I don't mind saying so. 

Monday, June 14, 2021

Last Day of 35.

Thirty-five has been crazy. I'm trying to think of what I've done. 

  • Home schooled a nine-year-old with autism
  • Stayed married
  • Read 70 books
  • Wrote a novella
  • Finished writing two books of poetry
  • Finished writing two chapbooks of poetry
  • Published seven poems and one piece of non-fiction
  • Finished my 201st journal
  • Took a class and a seminar with my favorite writer
  • Started taking a class in something for which I don't have talent (drawing)
  • Stayed in a B&B for the first time in ten years
  • Recovered and maintained mental stability
It hasn't been my most impressive year, but I've done a lot. I'm okay with saying goodbye to thirty-five. Now, I just have to summon the energy to say hello to thirty-six.

Saturday, March 13, 2021

February Janner.

 Last month was my first month of using Silk+Sonder's journal-planner hybrid. I'm sharing some of my pages with you. 













(Spelling errors intact)







Saturday, February 20, 2021

Stuff I'm Loving Right Now.

  • Silk + Sonder. I started my subscription to this monthly journal/planner hybrid. It comes with membership to a supportive, inspiring Facebook group. People share their creative pages and give each other ideas for how to use the blank Notes pages. I'm almost done using my first month's janner! I also got the Annual Supplement, which I'll work on throughout the year. I was worried that I wouldn't be able to keep up with the janner and my journal, but it's been fine. Once I finish February, I'll post some of my pages. 
  • Long-stem strawberries. These are huge and sweet. I've never enjoyed strawberries so much, and I'm not even eating them with whipped cream. 
  • Francesca Lia Block's Rose and the Beast. I'm rereading this. It's the first Block book I read. I found it completely by accident at the Arboretum Barnes. The cover is so gorgeous. I love fairy tale retellings. It's fulfilling my fairy-tale-a-day goal right now. Her language just drips with sparkle. Next month, I'm taking a writing and healing class with Block! I can't believe it. I've just finished reading her Thorn Necklace, a memoir/book on writing. I'm trying to get reacquainted with her work. I've also gathered some of the books she's discussed in Thorn Necklace. I want to get as much as possible out of this class. How many people get to take a class with their favorite authors? Care to join in
  • Fairy Tales from Hans Christian Anderson, with illustrations by Tasha Tudor. My mom sent me this as a gift to help with my fairy-tale-a-day habit. Tasha Tudor is one of our favorite artists. The vintage book even has a snowflake on it. I love snowflakes.
  • Dreams about snow. We only gotten a glimpse or two of snow here, but I've been dreaming about beautiful, non-destructive snow. I've seen huge, intricate snowflakes that show off their designs and stick to windows and branches. Usually, my dreams are complex and stressful, so this was a nice change. 
  • PrismaColor pencils. I discovered these when I took a homeschool art class at thirteen. I've loved them and bought them for others ever since. I chose seven colors (violet, medium purple, pink, deep rose, silver, forest green, and bright blue) to use in my janner this month. I've used them not just for the included coloring page but also for habit and mood trackers. 
  • Madame Alexander dolls. I just can't get over them. I finally got the two 10-inch dolls I've wanted so much (one of them I've wanted for about twenty years): Jo Goes to New York Trunk Set and the lovely Jane Eyre. I've set up the Anne of Green Gables doll I got from my parents for my eighth birthday as well. A couple of years ago, my mom gave me a 10-inch Cinderella--gorgeous. Most of my dolls are 20+ years old, but they're all beautiful. I have them atop bookcases and my dresser in the study and my bedroom. I'm having surgery week after next, and those dolls will keep me company and give me something beautiful to look at while I recover.
  • Paperblanks journals. My favorite journal brand is Peter Pauper Press, but Paperblanks is up there. The journal covers usually feature antique designs with metallic details. The journals come in Ultra, Midi, Mini, and Slim sizes. I have a couple of each. 
  • Papier journals. These are new to me. They feature designs from various artists and include personalization. One of mine is titled, "Becky Nicole's Notes on Love." The pages are thick enough to take a fountain pen with no bleeding and only mild ghosting. 
  • Zazzle.com. My mom hesitantly introduced me to this site. You can search for an image and buy just about any product you can think of (notebooks, stickers, labels, light switch covers, posters, wooden signs, pens...) with that image. While searching for fairies and mermaids, I discovered...
  • Molly Harrison's fairies and mermaids. If you like Amy Brown, you'll like MH. 

Sunday, January 31, 2021

Savoring January.

 I've been trying to savor this first month of the year. Here is some of what I've savored:

  • Indulging in Panera at home soups and pastas, despite the cost (and the calories)
  • Wearing colorful sweaters
  • Reacquainting myself with my creative work
  • Writing poems in a flurry
  • Watching a few minutes of big wet snowflakes
  • Reading seven (or eight?) books
  • Reading poetry aloud in the bathtub
  • Reading my poems aloud to my best friend
  • Wearing Fresh Sugar lip balm
  • Writing ten letters and thank you notes
  • Unpacking books
  • Hanging Mary Engelbreit reading posters in the study
  • Getting early morning massages from Josh
  • Starting to read for a science fiction and fantasy magazine
  • Journaling in purple and green
  • Wearing my new green boots
I plan to savor February even more.

February Affirmations.

 


Thursday, January 21, 2021

The Moments We Don't Talk About.

My son, Oliver, is nine years old. He has autism. I don't know the severity of the diagnosis; his last evaluation was when he was four. His reassessment starts next week. In most ways, he is still a four-year-old if not younger.

Today, Oliver had one of his meltdowns. 

It was one of the worse ones.

He wanted to go outside, so I got him ready and gathered up a story I'm editing, my journal, and my Kindle book. But when I opened the back door, he said, "Wanna go dis way," running toward the front door. So he wanted to go to the park. I don't take him to the park by myself anymore because the last time I did, he ran from me screaming down the middle of a street. Twice.

I said no. I said we could go play in the backyard. He insisted. I wasn't willing to put us both in danger. 

He started shouting, "Wanna go dis way! Wanna go home!" For some reason, going home seems to refer to riding in a car. 

He pulled down Josh's TV, scratching the screen. I don't know if it still works. He picked up a book we've been reading together and started tearing pages out of it, shredding them. I put him in timeout. He screamed, sometimes "Mama," sometimes just guttural sounds. He threw around a piece of art. Then, he calmly asked to watch a video.

I turned the video on and let him out of timeout. He went to the kitchen and poured an entire glass of milk and an entire glass of Gatorade on the hardwood floor. While I scrambled to clean it up (tense change: he's still screaming), he grabs my journal and rips it. He knows exactly what he's doing.

I give him his medication. He throws himself into the dining room windows. He finds Josh's water bottle and pours out as much as he can. He's foaming at the mouth. 

My insides are full of glass shards tearing tissues. He goes for the lamp.

Three months ago, I almost killed myself. I had the pills lined up. I had the razor. I had written the notes.

He recovers suddenly. I do not.

Saturday, January 16, 2021

Habits to Build.

  1. Send out a writing submission each day.
  2. Journal at least 5 pages a day.
  3. Read a fairy tale every day.
  4. Write down quotations each day until caught up.
  5. Read poems daily.
  6. Put away clothes daily.
  7. Listen to music 3 times a week.
  8. Write a new piece each week.
  9. Finish 1 book or 2 books each week.
  10. Cook something each week.
  11.  Blog weekly.
  12. Work on a novel or novella weekly.
  13. Write a letter or card weekly.
  14. Keep track of submissions on paper and in duotrope.
  15. Push and keep all active writing out in circulation.

Friday, January 15, 2021

The Point.

 I'm wondering today, what's the point of living? I don't feel it today. Not the reading or the writing or the people. So it has to be the smallest things--eating sunflower seeds and drinking too much Dr. Pepper. Painting my nails with lavender glitter. Reading one poem aloud. Huddling under a heated blanket. Letting somebody read what I've written. Finding matching socks in the laundry basket. Drinking icy water from a pink bottle. Looking at a shelf full of books. Using a gel highlighter. Lighting a candle. 

Friday, January 1, 2021

40 before 40: Progress Notes.

 Almost 5 years ago, I wrote my 40 before 40 list. I have about 4 1/2 years to go. Let's see how I'm doing.

  1. Read 100 Years of Solitude. Not yet, and I haven't seen it since we moved.
  2. Read The Golden Notebook. Oh, I haven't seen this one either. I hope my bookmark is still in it. It was so convoluted and boring for me. But maybe I can finish it a little at a time over the next 4 1/2 years. 
  3. Read the New Testament (if not the whole Bible). I haven't found my Daily Bible since the move. I think I'm stuck somewhere in July. But I plan to pick it back up.
  4. Read Dracula. Not yet.
  5. Read Frankenstein. Not yet.
  6. Finish the Harry Potter series. Done.
  7. Write 100 short stories. Well, if I write one per week, I can do it in 2 years. I have no ideas; I'll just have to follow crumbs and see where my subconscious goes. I guess I've written a few in my 30s. Most of them were in my 20s.
  8. Write a novel. I wrote a novella--count it!
  9. Make a new poetry collection. This is one I plan to work on soon. It will probably be based on my MFA thesis.
  10. Attempt to publish at least two books. I plan to send out above collection and try to find an agent for my novella.
  11. Try a magnetic nose stud. I tried the real thing! It was kind of a pain, and I couldn't get it back in after I got home from the hospital, but it was fun.
  12. Fill more journals than I buy. Hard to imagine, but maybe.
  13. Reduce credit card debt by half or more. I already paid it all off and ran a lot back up, so I don't know if this one counts. 
  14. Reach and maintain a healthy weight. Well, at least I'm cutting back on soda.
  15. See a show on Broadway or at the West End. This seems feasible when Broadway is a thing again. 
  16. Visit the UK. Less likely. I may have to add that to my 50 before 50 list. 
  17. Keep up with my library's new releases. I love the idea of that. We're closest to headquarters now. I need to ask Josh to check on our cards. Maybe we could go to the library together while Oliver is at ABA. I love the idea of checking out a random stack of books and actually reading them. 
  18. Read all of Ann Patchett's books. Oh boy. I think I've read three. No, four. 
  19. Visit Ann Patchett's bookstore. It's in Nashville! I haven't been back to Nashville in...ten years? But maybe.
  20. Read all Oz books. I've read the first three to Oliver. We have a ways to go.
  21. Read all Wrinkle in Time books. Two down, three to go. 
  22. Rent a just-right house. I think we're there.
  23. Attend touring shows each year. I'm on track so far. I did see one or two last year. I hope they'll be back this year.
  24. Take some kind of class. Maybe I'll save up for a Francesca Lia Block seminar or workshop. I could take a con ed class at FTCC. Maybe Josh and I could take it together, and he could count it as professional development. 
  25. Try an unnatural hair color. I've attempted to dye my hair green twice, but I don't think I'm willing to bleach it. I'm calling this done.
  26. Read half or more of Neil Gaiman's books. I have a couple. It shouldn't be too hard. I want to read the Locke & Key series. 
  27. Stay at the Wilderness Lodge again. Not likely unless someone takes us to Disney. 
  28. Win or place in a writing contest. I've only entered a few contests in my 30s. I want to get back to submitting work. Somehow, I've been capable of making a lot happen (submitting, writing a novella, reading, journaling, blogging, blogging for IBPF...), so I can do that again, continue it, add to it. 
  29. Read 10 or more Pulitzer Prize-winning books. This shouldn't be hard. I've read Native Guard (and Olive Kitteridge, but that was in my 20s). I have gathered eight or nine on a floating bookshelf in my room, so I just need to read them. 
  30. Read 5 or more books of poetry a year (50 total). My heyday was in my 20s, but I read 11 last year, and I've read a total of 60 books of poetry in my 30s! Done and surpassed. Maybe I can get to 100.
  31. Try a support group. I think I tried this online in my 20s. This is not my favorite goal.
  32. Try Kindle publishing. I may do this if I can't find a home for Break a Wish. 
  33. See Sparkle Scribbles to 100,000 views. I'm at 161,282! If I get serious about it, I may be able to double that too. 
  34. Read all Austen books. Yikes. Still only 2. I've got to get to work. I think I own all of them.
  35. Read all Bronte books. Exactly like Austen.
  36. Read all Jeffrey Eugenides books. I think he has 4 or 5. I've read 2 and have another 1 or 2. Bruce and I read Fresh Complaint this year.
  37. Make daily use of my lovely secretary desk (from Mom and Shane) and denim chaise (for which I taught an extra summer class). I've got to clean off the chaise (I've made some progress on that) from moving first. It's a tough goal, but when Oliver's at ABA, I can start making more habits. This will get easier when I stop going to bed so early. I can write letters and stuff submissions at my desk in addition to journaling, and I like stickering journals and scrapbooking on my chaise.
  38. Take Oliver to shows. This is another hard one. But he'll be 13 when I turn 40, so who knows? I can see taking him to an outdoor event like something by Sweet Tea Shakespeare or a casual concert. 
  39. Gain more control over anxiety, fear, and dread. I'm in a decent place with this right now, and I take a Xanax once or twice a day as my doctor prescribed. 
  40. Continue to sparkle, even if I'm "too old." I haven't been enjoying makeup and jewelry as much as I should, but I want to change that. I'm definitely not shying away from glitter.
So I'd like to be further along, but I am making progress.

Some Products I Savor.

 1. Mrs. Grossman's stickers. They're so intricate and lovely. I love coming across one in my journal or receiving my monthly sticker subscription

2. Gelly Roll pens. I've been using these for over 20 years. They're the pens I use most for journaling. I can never have enough of them. I tend to drain them quickly. I recently found a shop on Ebay that sells them in bulk, which is cheaper than buying them one at a time at a craft store (though Cheap Joes usually has the best prices--I wish we had one in Fayetteville).

3. Pentel Slicci metallic pens. These are so pretty and high-quality, but they're also so small and expensive that I can't use them very often. 

4. Urban Decay eyeshadows. So many shades, so many shimmers and shifts. I reach for these first.

5. Peter Pauper Press journals. I want (and have) almost every one of them. They're of great quality, sturdy with smooth paper and pretty metallic details on the covers. They're my go-to journal brand.

My Word of the Year: 2021.

 Last year, my word was practice. This was a great word for me, one I'll probably use again another year. It reminded me to keep hold of my pursuits, even when the world started falling apart. I journaled, I read 61 books (over my goal of 56 books), and wrote my first book of fiction. I failed in maintaining my mental health but continued to practice. Practice imparts responsibility but is also comforting. When I couldn't see loved ones or move easily through the world, I could continue building a practice of words, reading and writing. Bruce and I practiced by reading 10 books together. I could have done better last year, but trying to cling to my word made the difficult year much more valuable. 

After 9 years in the same apartment complex, we moved at the end of last year. I'm a terribly slow unpacker, but finding homes for objects makes me think about why they matter--why, for instance, this book came with me to the new house or why I needed another box of Gelly Roll pens. I'm also trying to appreciate our beautiful new home each day. I've dealt with long-term depression, which saps gratitude and joy as well as energy. As much as possible, I want to combat that this year. So I considered the word enjoy as my word for 2021. But the sound and tone didn't captivate me.

So I've decided on the word savor as my word for 2021. I want to savor my lovely home, the quiet time when Oliver returns to ABA therapy, the time I carve out with Josh, every writing tool in which I've invested, every book I read toward another goal of 56 (keeping in mind my goal to finish a total of 1,000 books by my not-so-very-far-away 40th birthday--754 and counting!), each item I unpack, and every small joy that might ordinarily slip by me. 

A new year won't solve the world's problems or my personal issues, but it is a fresh opportunity to savor the good. I intend to take that opportunity.