Found a Picture of You

My bed is like a chocolate covered extra candied cocktail cherry, is the thing that sometimes makes me feel okay in the wee hours of non-sleeping. This waking up for no apparent reason has become a sort of friend of mine. It feels silent, like I own the city.

My little ghost town section of it, of course. But it's enough. As far as the eye can see. And you can see a lot from here.

So yeah, there is a lot of walking up to windows to peek out when this happens. There is a lot of counting blessings. A lot of faith too.

/the powers that be/

I opted out, today. Out of revelry and fake orphan parties and driving 2 hours in the rain to see my family. I love them dearly. But it dawned on me while I was looking for the Perfect Family Holiday Dress that not one of them has seen my apartment. I got a little indignant and arranged to host them out here tomorrow instead.

Liz says I am a control freak. I'm beginning to see how that manifests. It's one of those for better or worse habits that helps and hurts so often it's hard to decide if you should dead it. If you find yourself up against one of those? Do yourself a solid and start counting - literally counting - the bests and the worsts. It will save you some heartache down the road.

But I'm digressing. Really there are only a couple of things about today that are important: The Project and My Nails.

I found the tools for The Project and did some technique refinement today. I'll speak nothing more until I have pictures for you. But my nails. They are for one day only. An experiment. I layered too much shit but there is a sort of airbrushed denim jacket 80s quality to them that I think is worth documenting.

The difference between what you picture and what really happens in life can occasionally be staggering. Big and little things both. No matter what: let yourself feel the full sucker punch. Double over for a second. You've earned the alone time.

Then straighten up, check your flair and take a pretty picture.



/that force us to live like we do/

Heading into 36 I hope to be way more level-headed. I hope to be way less vain but way more lovely. I hope to have more empathy. I hope to be kinder. I hope to talk less and listen more. I hope to perfect my handstands. I hope to finally get the murals I've been wanting in my apartment for 4 years. I hope to learn a little bit more about grace and ease. I hope to be calm.

I hope to remain a savage.

That's just the beginning of the list. I should also add that I'd like to sleep through the night unless I'm magically going to become independently wealthy and not have to worry about waking up to an alarm clock. I am pretty much at the point of begging the universe to hook me up with some mega wisdom so that I can quit missing 4 hours of sleep a night. It is not a good look for me, cuts into my morning prep and does not help my ambition at all.

But for a bit I'll just chill and hope I'm getting my personal evolution on and that's all this is. One thing is for sure: it leaves me with a lot of extra words. I find that I have to do something with them and so I type them into a void. Exercising the safest form of production and doing my best to adhere to best practices.

/bring me to my knees/

Funny how typing feels more comforting to me now than actual physical writing. Could I type a diary? I mean, is that allowed? Doogie Howser did it so I guess I should be able to too. But what would I say without an audience? Oh my! It'd be like going into a photo booth alone.

Not that I've never done that. Ha. My vanity extends farther than I can even see.

I went looking into hosting and flashed back some on what this place used to be. Mourned a bit for the openness I lost as I got more professional. This used to be a confessional and the wall of a high school ladies room. It is now high tea and almost always only the kindest spin I can put on a thing.

That really feels like ages ago. 2001. The Wild West of blogging. I know it's dorky but some day I want to list my personal greats for you all. Most of them are still at it in body or spirit, but everyone has changed a bit.

/when I see what they've done to you/

No sleep makes me grumpy. And tomorrow I play hostess. But luckily I have the perfect dress and stilettos for that. Bad Sleep + Rad Outfit = Even Tempered, I hope.

But there will be the obligatory gift exchange, which I loved as a kid but think is totally dumb as a grownup. I'd rather give you a gift 364 days a year than *have* to give you one on December 25th. Birthdays are what I excel at, cause I think good gifts mean focusing power.

And focusing power is good for babies, grownups, gurus, ancestors and all living things.

As long as I'm making wishes and soap boxin, there are 2 things that I want to research in my 37th year:

1) Any research that has been conducted recently around the invisible audience that people supposedly used to grow out of in adolescence. I have a feeling thoughts on that have changed quite a bit in the last 20 years.

2) Patience.

Thank you heaven and earth for all of my blessings. Christmas Day feels like the day to express that more than anything at all.

Bonne nuit. Here is a bed time/night time/can't get to sleep time song.