I’m a cow. I’m not saying I’m fat – the illness that came on a few weeks back has put any thoughts of surplus flesh to rest. I haven’t been this continuously nauseous since pregnancy and my son is in his twenties. I’m a cow because I ruminate. I obsess over the thoughts that pop into my head without so much as a by-you-leave. They’re … Continue reading Don’t stay tethered to a past that’s gone.
I like to dance. I’ve had little in the way of training – I took a belly course once, and I studied gymnastics for a few years which is somewhat related. I’ve learned that training doesn’t matter, especially if you’re not onstage making it a career. Dancing is from the heart. And the hips. Don’t forget the hips. And lift those feet. Of course, finding … Continue reading Saturdays are for dancing.
I’m wearing pants today. This is a big win – I haven’t worn pants in a long time. This isn’t to say I walk around in only skirts, or naked from the waist down. But pants, or rather tailored trousers, are a challenge. Historically, I only wear oversized or covered-up. [i] I have four pairs of baggy track pants that make up the majority of … Continue reading Clothing and eating disorders – it’s complicated.
My family doesn’t talk about important personal stuff. We’ll get into the nitty-gritty when it’s politics or important global issues – we tend to skew liberal, except for that ugly period when my father was listening to Rush Limbaugh. We had an intervention. We even talk about money, uni-directionally. My father regularly wants to know “how’s your debt, do you need any cash?” I mostly … Continue reading We don’t talk about Bruno in my family either.