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One of my friends tagged me on a FB meme yesterday and I can’t stop thinking about it.

My initial reaction was yes! This would be cool! I thought about which potato dishes would be best. There are so many though I figured for sure there would be vodka to drink and sweet potato pie for dessert.

Then I started to think about sitting in a room with my friends and each of us only reading and eating. This produced a very weird sensation: nervous discomfort. WTF?

I realized that for me reading is way too intimate an activity to do with a group of my friends. Though I can be in a room full of strangers and do it no problem, reading with my friends would feel awkward.

I get so involved in the stories I read, and I hate being interrupted. I only read alone or maybe in bed with my S.O. who I assume also won’t want to be interrupted and will respect my bubble. Even when I am with my mom at home or traveling, we go to separate spaces to read.

When I’m with my friends I want to talk to them. I have many friends that I talk about books with and could do so for hours, but reading with them? That would be weird.

I am NOT happy about being uncomfortable with the idea of being still and quiet and just reading with my friends. So one of these days I’m going to do this, assuming I have any friends who are willing. I’m going to have a Potato Book party just to see if it’s really possible to do it.

Let me know if you want an invite.

Be well my friends.

Yesterday I got to hang out with the only woman who has been in my life almost as long as my mom. There’s so much history there. We weren’t always close, and I regret those years in the middle, but I’m so grateful to have her in my life again.

There are many reasons for this gratitude, but I’m going to focus on just one today. We are only six months apart in age.

I have several friend groups that I spend time with on a regular basis. In each of those groups I am either the oldest or the youngest in the group, sometimes it’s only by a year or two but, usually it’s by a decade, sometimes more. I love being with all my friends but there’s something comforting about being with another Gen Xer.

My friend and I had an entire conversation about it. Nobody else understands our brand of sarcasm, or the attitude of those of us raised, or not raised, by the Silent Generation.

There are Gen Xers that were raised by Generation Jones, and while we share some experiences, there are some significant differences. It’s not something easily put into words to explain to anyone outside that sweet spot.

Despite those differences, the whole of Gen X is vibe and it’s a real thing and IYKYK (to borrow from a younger generation).

For instance, I recently had a couple of chat interactions with friends where I was, frankly, rude. I apologized to both my friends and both accepted my apology. My millennial friend was gracious and kind. The Gen Xer was like, meh, whatever, I get it. Warms my heart.

I have a handful of Gen X friends and I know that they understand me. However, with my childhood friend, the comfort level is even greater because of all that shared history. I really need to spend more time with her.  Promise to myself to make that a bigger priority.

Be well my friends.

As a federal employee I get to have a paid day off today to sleep in and spend the day with a friend.

Many people choose to spend today as a day of service. I often tell myself I should do this too but somehow never seem to get around to it. So I decided the least I could do was share links to articles and sites that talk about his life and legacy and ways to be of service.

As I was doing research I realized that nearly every article I opened was written by a white person. It took multiple attempts before I finally found one that wasn’t. Was that because the algorithm for my searches are skewed by the types of things I look up or is that because there are still so few people of color writing for major news organizations? Probably both.

We need to do better.

Here are some links:

https://linktr.ee/TheKingCenter

As you commemorate #MLKDay, please remember my mother, as well. She was the architect of the King Legacy and founder of @TheKingCenter, which she founded less than three months after Daddy was assassinated. Without #CorettaScottKing, there would be no MLK Day. #MLKDay2023 pic.twitter.com/zVvMtBftF6

— Be A King (@BerniceKing) January 16, 2023

7 Ways to Celebrate Martin Luther King, Jr. on MLK Day

Apparently I missed quite the disturbance last night, or rather in the wee hours of the morning. My mother has been using a vaporizer at night for several weeks, but for some reason last night, around 1 am, the smoke detector was triggered, causing chaos and mayhem.

Her dog, who has kindly included me in her pack, hates the sound of the alarm and I imagine it must hurt her sensitive ears. She does whatever she can to get away from the sound, so mom had to deal with her, unplug the vaporizer, take the fan, and put it as close as she could to the detector to try and clear the air, all while being completely sleep-addled.

By the time she was awake enough to realize she could just push the reset button, the fan had done its job and cleared the air, so the alarm stopped. It took her a bit to wind down and go back to sleep, which explained why she, who can never sleep past 6 am, was still asleep at 7:30 when I got up to make coffee.  

After getting up to pee, she asked me incredulously, “I guess you missed the fire alarm last night?” She then relayed the tale and has gone back to bed.

I obviously did miss the whole event, though I have no idea how. Granted we sleep at opposite ends of the house, and I am a sound sleeper, especially now that I use that confounded machine at night. But really, how did I sleep through the whole thing?

It is a bit troubling that I didn’t hear it, because that detector is loud, but for now, since it wasn’t a real emergency, I’m just going to be quiet so mom can get more sleep and watch the handful of robins in the tree outside my window. Also, maybe, be just a bit amused at the visual in my head of her and the dog running around the house and be grateful I had a good night’s sleep.

Be well my friends.

Yesterday I took time off from work to go with my mother to her doctor’s appointment. We completely forgot about our masks. We took the disposable ones from the front desk, and I caught myself griping about having to wear it. Mom did too. How quickly we forget, huh?

Anyway, did you know that high blood pressure can damage your kidneys? I never feel my mortality or physical failings more than when I go with mom to one of her appointments.

My goal for this year–not a resolution–was to move more, to bring joyful movement into my life as a priority. Not exercise, mind you, because that has diet culture all over it and triggers shame in me.

Every time I get started I bump up against someone or something that reminds that I “should” be dieting and exercising because I’m unhealthy. And it’s everywhere. It’s so insidious. Especially in January.

I know that it motivates some people but for me, it shuts me down. Makes me want to crawl into bed or into my recliner and say eff you. This then pisses me off more. I am determined not to repeat this cycle this year.

Last week during my tarot reading, my friend interpreted that the cards were saying I needed to change up my morning routine. So every morning this past week, except for yesterday, because of the appointment, I have been listening to at least one of the songs my girlfriend sent me and dancing to it.

Since her tastes run to country and jazz, I’ve been slow dancing with an imaginary her in my arms. It’s kind of embarrassing (and I feel a little guilty that this is the first mention of it, and I am hoping she won’t be mad that I shared it with everyone).

Embarrassing or not, I am enjoying it and I’m not going to stop. It’s good for my heart.

Be well my friends.

There’s an interesting article on CNN (see link below). It’s about how Friday the 13th became such a feared thing in Western culture. It also discuss how the tide may be turning thanks to all the talk surrounding the misogyny in the superstition and because Taylor Swift considers 13 to be her lucky number.

I’m not a Swiftie, but I do like many of her songs, and I’m all about celebrating powerful and influential women. I find it fascinating how one woman can help change a centuries old fear back into something lucky and revered. I knew she was a powerful force in the music industry but had no idea how influential she really is. To be fair I only have this single article as my source.

I’ve recently come up against my own internalized misandry so I’m trying to find balance in my words, but I’m happy that the magical and the mystical aspects of the divine feminine are being more openly celebrated and embraced.

One of the places I’ve found where I’m learning about that magic is on this blog:   https://comehomewitch.com/the-friday-the-13th-phenomenon/#gsc.tab=0

Check out her take on the same phenomena as the CNN article.

I hope your Friday the 13^th is magical and divine. Be well my friends.

https://www.cnn.com/style/amp/why-friday-13-unlucky-explained/index.html?adobe_mc=TS%3D1673615652%7CMCMID%3D18773632715801396755530151751466448640%7CMCAID%3D2F7B9FE00515AC34-40000AD2304CAB14%7CMCORGID%3D7FF852E2556756057F000101%40AdobeOrg&iid=cnn-mobile-app

CNN

I’ve been in therapy for a very long time. Every time I think “it’s going so well, I’m not a mess anymore, I don’t need to keep paying a therapist”, I bump into another ugly in the shadows.

I had an encounter with someone recently whose presence triggered a fight or flight response in my body, and I felt shame at that response. There was a lot to unpack and I’m not comfortable exposing the specifics, not because there’s still shame, but because it could cause harm to the person somewhere down the road.

I’m fairly certain I have already caused harm to this person because I am terrible at hiding or faking how I am feeling. I would make a terrible poker player. I have been told, however, that the inability to lie effectively is not a bad thing, so there is that.

Anyway, my current therapist, who I’m pretty sure is going to be able to send her kids to college because of me, reminded me of the Emotional Freedom Technique (EFT) she taught me awhile back. I wish I had remembered the technique when I had the encounter. I could have excused myself and gone to the bathroom to calm my fight or flight response, at least enough to figure out why it was happening.

Ah well, woulda, shoulda, coulda. We keep learning and try to do better each time right? I hope that the next time I meet up with the person, I’ll do better.

I am grateful that I’m in a position to be able to afford therapy. I know that so many cannot. It should be a basic right, but it is not. Here’s a link to a good article about how to find affordable mental health care.

https://www.goodrx.com/health-topic/mental-health/therapy-without-insurance

Be well my friends.

I apologize for the brevity of today’s blog. I started a different blog this morning but realized it was a journal entry to be discussed with my therapist this afternoon and not a public blog.

So instead I’ll recommend a lesbian romance I just finished reading, Queerly Beloved by Susie Dumond.

It takes place in hyper conservative Tulsa, Oklahoma just prior to the legalization of gay marriage. It has all the standard romance drama, instant attraction, but characters living very different lives leading to predictable conflicts. There’s also more than one happily ever after.

The main character does a lot of growing and is mostly likeable though I thought her a bit whiny, especially in the beginning. It also has many queer characters, some fairly predictable. Most of the straights aren’t intentionally harmful, except for those intended to be.

I loved the political statement it made though only one politician gets called out by name. I wasn’t thrilled with the mild fat phobia but it isn’t really a distraction and it’s more my issue than anything else.

It is well written, a fun read, and available through the library.

I don’t think anybody who knows me will be surprised to learn that The Princess Bride is one of my all-time favorite movies. Until recently I don’t think I’d ever met anyone who hadn’t seen it.

So when I found out my girlfriend had never seen it I admit I freaked out a bit. How was it possible this amazing, quirky human being had never seen such an iconic movie? I knew I needed to rectify this.

It took way longer to set up a movie night to watch it than I was happy about. I thought the Universe was plotting against us. Even when we finally sat down “together” to watch it, we had technical difficulties (thank you Mercury).

I’ve seen it so many times I can practically recite the entire script and I’m sure I was super annoying when I would say the line as the actor was or when I told her ‘Oh I love this part’.

I didn’t realize how nervous I was that she wouldn’t like it. I’m crazy about this woman and I know it’s good to like different things but I’m not sure I could date someone whom didn’t like The Princess Bride.

Fortunately, she said she did like it and I had my proof she wasn’t just humoring me when the last words she texted me last night were “As you wish”. I don’t think I can tell you when I have ever felt more seen.

Have fun storming the castle my friends.

I attended a meetup yesterday with my Middle Aged and Newly Gay group. We were exploring our witchy natures and learning some basics about tarot and numerology. It was so much fun.

I think the coolest thing about tarot is letting go of the literal and leaning into intuition. That is so difficult for me. I’ m very left brain but I’ve been doing a lot of work around my creative self.

I recently received a very special deck from a friend, and she is an experienced practitioner and teacher of tarot. She is going to teach me more about tarot and my deck in particular and I’m really looking forward to it.

I tell my non-believer and skeptic friends that it’s just a tool for helping make decisions. It’s a way to tap into my subconscious and bring what is percolating in there up to the surface. And this true, tarot does function that way if that’s what you use it for, but there’s more to it I think, and I’m fascinated by the possibilities.

Back in my Christianity days tarot was off limits. It was a tool of the devil-ugh. But my spiritual path has meandered quite a bit. In the course of writing my novel, my research into magic and witchcraft has led me to want to explore the path of a witch, particularly that of a cosmic witch, with its focus on astrology and astronomy. I find these to be as equally fascinating as tarot and numerology.

As the third draft of my book progresses, I am trying to put in more and better magical scenes, so this is the perfect time to learn. And its lots of fun. In order to get good at tarot I’ll need practice so if you’re interested in being a guinea pig, let me know.

Be well my friends.