SEASONAL NONSENSE

I am a rational girl. I believe in hard work, science, good decisions (whatever those are) and feminism. I am have the makings of a terrible housewife. I don't cook and hate supermarkets. I hate buying food in general and wish that I didn't have to waste my time with preparing food or "heating something up." But I love to eat and admire and treasure good food. My version of doing laundry is putting everything into one washer and putting some soap in there....usually everything comes out fine...usually. I am often so impatient that I leave the laundrymat with a majority of damp clothing which I then hang up to dry at home. I read way too much and I stay up way too late 99.9% of the time. My car has approximately 5 empty ceramic coffee cups rolling around on the ground at any given time because I find it impossible to remember to take them out.

All of the above I confess to be true and yet I admit that I make the largest exception in the history of the world for holidays. I love holidays. They fill my heart with joy and glee and fill me with strange desires to craft things. I love them so much I believe that I would attempt in the right circumstance to save any Christmas or Thanksgiving by cooking a large decadent meal. I love decorations, I love pumpkins, I love lamp.

And.....it is starting. I feel it in the air and above all things I want to carve a pumpkin and watch Hocus Pocus. Godwilling.

Dirty Laundry

This point in my life seems to resemble a washing machine set at the spin cycle. I honestly tried to slow it down by throwing a few wrenches in the gear shaft but that only made the barrel spin off-center. So in the end, I decided to pry my own iron grip from the metal edges and allow my body be taken into the spinning chaos. Surprisingly enough, I have found a deep sense of peace in accepting that I cannot control many things about my own life. And well to be perfectly honest I most often experience this deep sense of peace after yoga and when eating Haagen Dazs coffee ice cream but who is really keeping track?

My greatest fear about letting the tides of life changes wash over me was the fear of encountering a deep sense of powerlessness. Strangely enough, powerlessness is in a way a certain kind of freedom. It is ever so tempting to latch on to the idea that I am actually in control of my life because there are moments where I feel that life is managable and maybe just maybe if I put in just the right amount of effort I can find true love, find the perfect career crafted for the oversensitve me while becoming a fine tuned yoga goddess dancer extraordinaire who never if rarely becomes downtrodden or somber..........but then ever present reality patiently waits for the moment when I am so tired that I take a two hour nap and spend the rest of the day in a nauseous sense of self-loathing. In this muddled, disheveled state I usually have the wherewithal to realize that it is just me myself and I fighting the fact that I have fallen desperately short of my ideals.

So here I am just me spinning in my life dryer (because obviously I am done with the wash cycle).