Time has come today. Only…it’s not quite that simple.
TIME HAS COME TODAY.
Time has come today. Only…it’s not quite that simple.
I blog like I live…disjointed and off-kilter.
Time has come today. Only…it’s not quite that simple.
Last week, I slogged my way through the five stages of grief, and I did it all mostly in one of two robes. It was fine. It served its purpose. There were children here, and still are, so I would shower and change into a respectable pair of stretch pants and clean shirt around noonish. …
Silk Pillowcases and Donuts: I Should Really Brush My Teeth.
Pants are Optional: My Quarantine Love Letter to Robes.
No matter how tame your story feels to you, it’s still yours. Own it.
We opened Bo Burnham’s amazing, beautiful, painful ode to puberty, EIGHTH GRADE, this month. It was everything I’d hoped. That “everything” was painful, unflinching, cringe-worthy reality. It was perfect. Yes, the movie had the tiny kids with flat stomachs and clear skin, who were externally flawless but sometimes awful and bitchy. There were also the …
Living in the moment is great. Except when it sucks and we’d rather not.
We aren’t always kind to ourselves. Why not try thinking of all the things we do right?
I wish somebody would do something about me.
Sound familiar?
When self-centered is bad, it’s really bad. But when it is good…