Shake it Off

Alright, which of the gods hate me?  The one night I finally fall asleep like the damn Disney princess I know is inside of me somewhere yearning to be free and  EARTHQUAKES.ALL.NIGHT.  In my ten years living in LA, I’ve never been woken up by an earthquake.  I’m the girl that sleeps through the earthquakes.  Soundlessly.  Impossibly.  My roommate in college used to have parties IN our dorm room while I slept in the top bunk.  I don’t sleep often, but when I do – I’m essentially dead.  I have to say there isn’t anything quite like waking up to your entire apartment rumbling as if the devil himself might burst through your floor and finally take you where you belong.  And then there was an aftershock.  I thought, good, she’s done now.  Finally fell back asleep after reading several articles on how ‘the big one’ is coming – I don’t know why I do these types of things to myself – I just do, it’s who I am and what I’m working with, ok?  Woke up to another aftershock.  Then another.  So I’m on two hours of sleep, on a shitty mattress at that (STILL waiting for my replacement mattress – insert extra grouchy face here) and holy shit where’s the tylenol happy Thursday everybody.

Taylor Swift wrote, produced and recorded an album, meanwhile I’ve been trying to get to the grocery store for over two weeks.  So that’s cool.  Might I add that red wine is VERY distracting and I’m easily distracted.  I spent two hours looking at Han Solo fridges the other afternoon.  Let me be clear, I don’t need a fridge.  Then I went down a real rabbit hole reading reviews on Amazon for a banana slicer to the point I was in tears laughing because WHAT?! and then I spent another thirty minutes shopping for pellet ice machines.  Which, by the way, are over 2 grand…for frozen water.  Cool, cool, cool.  I should probably take a time management course, but I feel like this is my authentic self at her finest and I need to respect that about her.  So I’ve been listening to Taylor’s album Folklore on repeat which is about the only thing that has brought me joy all week.  I haven’t had a bad day in a minute so I was due but it’s IMPRESSIVE how hard a bad day can take you down.  Even the person in the mirror looks different.  It’s like how losing weight takes a century and then gaining it back takes three slices of pizza.  How is that even fair?  I’d like to speak with the manager.

I know a lot of people are feeling the effects of quarantine and depression is becoming an issue.  There’s a lot of uncertainty and confusion and while that is a top contender for my autobiography title, it’s not an ideal place to thrive for many.  I tend to go all in with most things, so when I’m in a rut, I become the rut.  I don’t talk to people when I’m low.  I don’t allow or want anyone to see me in that way.  It’s not my better side and she kinda sucks.  I think coming down after the amazing that was my adventure and being pushed back into the human hamster wheel as I tried to navigate settling back into the swing of things was a huge factor.  Mind you one chain of the swing is broken and I’m not even allowed on the playground anyway.  If you can relate, get some sunshine on your face, conquer a puzzle, take a socially distant walk, sweat, cook, climb mountains, talk to people that make you feel good and if all else fails, get a Jason Momoa coloring book (I may or may not already have one).  Even in cartoon…my god…

So in my frustrations, I had a completely sober conversation with a friend the other night about the going rate for hookers.  We were not particularly impressed with those rates so we decided we are going to buy bars of silver (we can’t afford the gold ones – they’re $500,000 a bar) and then escape to an island of our choosing…or Canada.  Hockey players, yes please.  I’ll shift my teeth standards.  Speaking of sports, can we please discuss Joe Kelly.  That boo-hoo face will most likely be my favorite image of MLB 2020.  While I don’t think anyone should be throwing baseballs intentionally at anyone’s head at 100MPR, suspended for 8 games?!  Come on.  He didn’t hit anyone.  And dear MLB, if you would have taken the appropriate disciplinary actions against the Astros, this wouldn’t be an issue.  They still have their rings?!  You joking my ass?  There isn’t a SINGLE blameless person in that club.  They stole and arguably (not really) ruined an entire season of baseball and not a single one of them got suspended but you’re gonna suspend a pitcher for EIGHT GAMES who didn’t hit a SINGLE PERSON?  That’s who you’re going to decide to make an example of?  Booooooo.  I call bullshit.  FREE JOE KELLY.  And now I’m all riled up.

So, as I mentioned, Folklore gave me all the feels – as if I need any more of them.  It took me on a little journey to my past.  The things I’ve been through, the people I’ve left behind, the people that left me behind, those feelings that take you to a certain time and place so specific you can smell it.  There isn’t a single person that’s meant something to me in this lifetime I’ve forgotten.  Even the ones I’d like to.  I don’t know if it’s like that for other people.  When I say something, I mean it.  When I feel something, it’s to my bones.  I can’t help it – it’s how I’m wired.

“I think you know how to love better than any of us. That’s why you find it all so painful.”   – Fleabag

I took this quiz to see what my “villain” name would be and it was Lady of Night & Heartache.  How annoyingly accurate is that?  I am certainly a lady of the night.  I’ve been a total vampire lately.  Having trouble getting to sleep and when I do, there are earthquakes or the dreams I have are so vivid, I have to decipher what is real and what isn’t for a solid 20.  Turns out, Olivia Coleman is not my mother and we did not listen to the Les Mis soundtrack together on a pirate ship.  Yes, these are the things I dream about…cause I’m a little psycho.  I dare someone to try to figure out my subconscious.  Good luck – bring a shovel.

In domestic news,  I made cupcakes for a friend’s birthday that ended up baking backwards because I maybe used baking soda instead of baking powder.  Oops.  My bad (most definitely said like Cher in Clueless).  I was already running late and I flung open the oven to see how they were doing and was like – that’s not good.  I ended up turning them into cake-balls and they were a huge hit.  Listen, I may not be Suzie Homemaker but I am told I have a flourishing personality.  My friend was like – did you never make a volcano in school growing up?  SHUT UP HILLARY.  I was just following the recipe and read the words a tiny wrong.  It’s the thought that counts, right?  In summary – words MATTER ok?  One word changes everything.  Don’t forget that.

Jada might have had an entanglement with August but at this rate my January through December is one giant entanglement.  How is it almost August?  WTF?  If 2020 were a person it’s Zach Galifianakis’ character from The Hangover.  If I woke up with a tiger lying next to me, I wouldn’t even be surprised.  I’d actually be less shocked by a tiger than a man.  Wild times I say.  Everyday has been a super mystery and I have come to the conclusion that I know nothing and I’m not going to even try guessing anymore.  Apparently some 60 foot robot took its first steps??  I’m done.  I’m gonna be over here with my wine and my words floating around in my pool with Chad the Lifeguard – cause he loves me.  What I do know is there is a cricket somewhere in or around this apartment and I’m about to go loco on it’s chirp-ass.  So while I do that, hang in there.  Shake off whatever is bugging you, find what makes you smile, believe it gets better and if none of that works, scream into a pillow or underwater as long and as loud as you can.

Lady of Night & Heartache Xx


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