Commonplace Book

I wish I had done this all of quarantine. It may be better in actual written form though. Which honestly isn't a bad idea since I don't want anyone reading this anyway. (Not that anyone would care.)

This is what it looked like all day Wednesday. Today it's back to normal colors, but still thick with ash suspended in fog. AQI is purple.

So, I ordered groceries from GoodEggs. Ordered lunch. Sitting in the same spot I've been sitting for 75% of the last 6 months and 95% of the last 72 hours.

I have, for the last 20 years or so, always secretly worried/wondered if I was a super-high functioning alcoholic. But despite drinking more than usual for the past few months, I quit cold turkey 11 days ago and haven't caved. There's plenty of booze in the house too so WHEW. I sure would like a drink though.

You're not supposed to weigh yourself on Whole 30 but I couldn't resist the temptation. So far down over 6 lbs! Although on September 1st I was 2-3 lbs up from "the new normal" due to a combination of PMS and "eating that thing one last time before we started Whole 30" so maybe only lost 2-3 lbs, which actually sounds more appropriate for 11 days. It's honestly not that hard, just sort of boring and takes time, but I got plenty of that.

I got an extra $600 from EDD yesterday. No note, no explanation. Haven't seen an article on it. Just two additional $300 deposits in addition to my usual award. Not mad about it. Going to buy some more stretchy pants.

Breakfast: cultured cottage cheese, peach, rosemaried almonds

Lunch: chicken cobb, no cheese

Finally fell behind on my NYT crosswords. Never finished Sunday because, well, it was a DAY, and have been behind ever since.

Going to start The Stand today.

This is the way the world ends

This is the way the world ends

This is the way the world ends

Not with a bang, but with a whimper.

~T.S. Eliot

Labor Day

 Sometimes it really feels like the world is ending. Or about to turn into one of those post-apocalyptic novels I love to read. Not with a bang but with a whimper.

Yesterday it got to over 90 INSIDE OUR APARTMENT. The air quality was so bad we had to keep the windows shut. Fashioned ourselves a little swamp cooler:

Supposed to have a picnic today with J&L. Not sure if we should be outside in this but also I miss our friends and don't want to grow apart because we keep saying no to things.

Been thinking a lot about comparative stress/suffering. I know we have it better than so many people. But refusing to acknowledge or face my own stuff because others have it worse is not helpful at all. Put on your own oxygen mask before assisting others. I can't be of help if I'm a wreck. It's a fine line to deal&heal with my comparatively easier situation without becoming a brat but I think it's important to feel my feelings and still be empathetic.

Happy place: husband is listening to D'Angelo and making bacon while I do a crossword puzzle. 

what I've got they used to call the blues

I have been ardently trying to only read female authors of color this year. It was a goal of mine before SIP and global pandemic and #blacklivesmatter and the world generally going to shit in a handbasket. (don't @me) I think it's important for me to support these women AND I think it's important because I can learn from them.

I caved this week and got an audio book by a white man, because it sounded breezy (essays) which were largely read by famous actors, and it was free. I listened to the first two on my walk to grab our lunch - a walk I really didn't want to take for oh so many reasons, but forced myself to for another oh so many)... and returned the book when I got home. 

He was smart and funny, sure, but also entitled and a little mean. Of course I don't think that all men are entitled and a little mean anymore than I think all Leos are self-loving angerballs but the correlation was made in my head and I'm going back to reading women.

Our lunch was a disaster. I won't bore you with the details. I tried to salvage what I could by turning it into another salad. I like to think of myself as a problem solver. Don't get me started on day 4 of Whole 30 but for posterity's sake: I'm more bored than hungry, I have a headache, and I'd probably slap a person for a Tito's on the rocks.

Someone posted an article this week about how popular Les Miserables is, and how people who love the musical would hate those exact same headlines. How did "anti-fascism" become left wing? The right should HATE fascists, because "their freedoms!" right? Also... white people loooooove watching anti-fascist stories. Gladiator. Star Wars. Star Trek. Battlestar. Batman. ANY superhero move. Harry frickin' Potter.

Ohhh, right. White people love antifa stories about white people. They even conveniently shortened it to a word that sounds vaguely ethnic and organized and aggressive. Simply stunning.

What am I doing about it, you may ask? Nothing. Sitting at home self-medicating my own depression, and reading female authors of color. 

just a note I sent to my girlfriends this morning

Hitting a rough patch and have no energy to write more than I already have, with the following note to two very close girlfriends this morning.

Hi ladies,

I watched this video this morning and it made me think of you two, separately, but I think we are all close enough for me to address you together.

I'm a generally optimistic person and girls... I'm running out. I'm not sure why this video in particular tipped me off, something about watching people move their bodies with JOY maybe, but I just sat down and had a real good cry.

I do feel better afterwards (emotional orgasm for one, please) but man, the world is so fucked up and I just really need some hope. I've never gone through so much knowing that the entire world and everyone I would normally lean on is going through it too. I could really go for some precedented times, y'all. It's like you don't even know what you're supposed to feel and but god, so many feelings, and then recognizing that so many others have it so much worse that you feel guilty for the feelings, you know?

I bring this to you two today, via email, because I know you both have no problem helping me with my burdens -- and I mean that as the utmost compliment; I would wither if my friends didn't need me -- and I wanted you to be able to process my stuff on your own time, with the option of choosing not to take it on until you're ready. I'm learning so much about grown-up female friendships right now and above all, to put on your own oxygen mask before assisting others.

So I'm going to have leftover pizza and a White Russian for breakfast like a goddamn grown-up and lean on the fact that I have people like you both, out there somewhere, dealing with your own very real and complex emotions. I am here for you to lean on as well, and I appreciate the fact that you know that and use it when necessary. We are a village.

Watch the video! Maybe you can absorb the joy instead of crumbling in the face of it. Or maybe you'll have a good cry like I did and write a sappy note to someone you care about. This is all fine. I love you!

~JLH

Go ahead. I trust you.

Man, my brain is all over the place. I need writing prompts. I end up wandering around instead of actually saying anything. I like writing and want to do it more but I'm still getting used to this stream-of-consciousness word-vomit approach (journaling.... I think it's called journaling).

Today I wanted to write -- not edit, just write (yeah right) -- about teamwork. Something I've been thinking about a lot as I apply for job after job. Although this is a terrible time, it IS an opportunity. One I hope to never have again, but an opportunity nonetheless. Husband is still working, we don't have any real debt, and we're barely spending any money. I'm getting unemployment (for the next 3-ish months) and we're not in danger of losing our home. So I actually have the time to think - what do I really want my next career to look like? Do you prefer to work alone or on a team?

I've never had one of those "shut yourself in an office and work all day" sort of jobs. There have been aspects of it of course, in every job, but mostly my work has been group-focused and dependent on a team. And while there's something very attractive about a role that would allow me be alone to JUST WORK, would I miss bouncing ideas off someone else? I think teamwork has the opportunity to encompass the best of all of us. (Or rather, it should ... but that's another essay.) Then again, maybe it's the end of the world as we know it and I'll have to work from home for the rest of my life. What would that look like?

When I was up in Mendocino last month with my brothers from another mother, we did a little project. Ross bought a chandelier from a thrift store and stripped the bulbs, spray-painted it, and strung it with a row of solar lights. Our goal was to hang it from a tree. Side note: these are my very favorite kind of projects.

In order to hang it where it would get enough sunlight to actually power it, it had to go very high. At first they tried to put a ladder in the back of the pick-up truck (translation: they didn't try. They actually did it while I stood at the bottom shouting "this is not a good idea!!!") but it still wasn't tall enough. Ross tied a weight onto a rope, which he then attached to the wire that was going to hold the chandelier, and he, Dave, and Evan proceeded to try and throw that over the branch about 800 times. It was fun at first and then it got annoying. It was hot. We all had cricks in our neck from staring at the sky. We put it off until the next day.

We finally got the rope over the branch. It carried the wire. Which by the way had been coiled so got tangled and involved me untangling a one-sided snarl of thick wire that was attached to a tree branch 40' in the air. (Aside: I am freakishly good at untangling things and also at peeling off stickers. Two feats that seem completely unsuited to someone of my Type-A impatience but hey, I contain multitudes.) We then realized we needed to slip a rubber tubing over the wire where it came in contact with the tree, so it wouldn't cut into the tree branch over time. It couldn't make it through the snarls of the 50' long wire (plus we needed it you know, at the other end) so we had to start from scratch.

Back came down the rope, back came down the wire. Added the tube. Discussed at lengths ways to affix it so we could position it correctly. Discussed the pros and cons of every idea from chewing gum to climbing the tree and adjusting it once it was up. At some point we tried something that worked. At some point we tried something that didn't. We just kept evolving to the next idea.

At some point Evan was explaining his next avenue, and gesturing with his hands, and using phrases like "no, the other end" and then, as things go, said, "do you understand what I'm saying?" Everyone was nearing frustration and Ross just said, "no, I don't, but go ahead - I trust you." 

It was not a large moment and I don't think out of character for either of them, but it really struck me. Go ahead; I trust you. How often do we do that? How much do we let go our inner control freaks and give someone else the reins even though we have absolutely no idea how it's going to play out? 

I can't remember if that idea worked or if we moved on to the next one but my end feeling of the project is that we all weighed in and we all got it done. Some tactics worked and some tactics didn't. Failure happens until it doesn't. No one was a control freak, no one was defensive, we pooled our resources and we got it done. Together. 

Go ahead. I trust you.

Le McRib

 I think I may have popped my rib back in and now it's just sore. I hope. Fingers crossed.

I always think of things I want to journal about at night and then when I sit down the next morning, I have forgotten. Is this how writers feel always? (Note: I know I am not a writer. Just asking.)

We went out last night. To this little place in the Richmond we've gone a few times. You order inside (in a mask) and then eat outside. No table service. The girl that works inside is super nice and I always tip her fat. I still don't feel great about it but our apartment was so hot we had to get out. We had wings and brussels sprouts and wine/beer and rolled our eyes at the Karens of the Inner Richmond and it almost felt like a normal Friday night.  

Almost.

Looking for a job is hard. Looking for a job during a global pandemic feels insurmountable. If I wasn't married I might have had to move home to my parents' by now. That thought is sobering.

Speaking of sobering, we're going to a modified Whole30 in September (I need a new name). Modified because I just can't get into a no-bean lifestyle. We're keeping our morning beverages and all legumes and yogurt. I use it for a lot of sauces. I'm not inspecting labels for added sugar because I like balanced flavors. But, no cheese, no grains, no superfluous sugar (like chocolate or desserts), no alcohol, no chips/fries/charcuterie. Focusing on meats and produce and no doubt a lot of weed, if I'm being honest. I'll probably document it here for posterity and sincerely hope that no one is reading this.

my legally prescribed trip

I have this weird thing where one of my ribs "pops out" ever so often. That sounds fucking absurd, right? The second time it happened, my generous friend Sonya who is also a massage therapist came over to help me out, and after feeling my back, told me that's what she thought it was. I promptly forgot that statement because of the pain and also because THAT SOUNDS FUCKING ABSURD and a week later, still in pain, I went to the chiropractor who said, "it seems like you've popped a rib out" and I was like ... oh, so that's really a thing?!? Sincere apologies to my smart and capable friend who I doubted even though she's an expert in her field and I am .... not. SO anyway, here I am in excruciating pain. Meandering between foam rollers and ice packs and muscle relaxers.

I am not an idle person. I have never been one to sit around and watch TV all day. I just don't do it. No judgment -- I like the idea of it and I try it sometimes but after like 3-4 hours I just cannot. I NEED TO MOVE. But oh yeah, even if it didn't currently hurt to take a deep breath, we're still sheltering in place because there's a global pandemic going on. And most of Northern California is on fire because of the raging wildfires due to the drought and the freak lightning storm so the air quality is terrible even if it wasn't for the pain and the pandemic. I really don't have a lot of options here. I can't really work out. I can't go outside. Why am I being a brat? I love reading and crossword puzzles and movies and day-drinking so why can't I just lean in and do this? God I'm such a whiny bitch.

I have a close friend who I rarely altercate with. (Awkward grammar; YKWIM.) Lately we have just... not clicked. I feel like I rarely understand what she is saying, and rarely think she is getting what I'm trying to say. When I try and reach out for chitchat it feels forced. We don't have a lot of overlapping interests/hobbies so it's not like we can just fall back into a safe space of discussing X for hours. Maybe we shouldn't fall back into a safe space? Maybe we should stretch into a different space? Why shrink when we could grow? I'm humble enough to not blame this on either of us or her. It happens. It happens with family and it happens with partners and it happens with close friends. The difference is the platonic friendship. With your family you can get as over it as you want and still fall back on the "welp, they're family" cushion (if you want to... I know that's not a choice or desire for everyone). With lovers you can demand an intention. With friends it's different. You don't ask a friend, "do you want to be friends forever or am I just a fling?"* You just have to navigate the relationship assuming or hoping you both want the same outcome. That's kinda wack when you think about how important your friends are.

*Britt actually tells me she wants to be friends forever. I should remember to thank her for that. She is so special. Vanessa tells me not to edit while journaling. I do it anyway but I'm and will leave in this rando self-reminder in her honor. She's so special too, in a completely opposite way. 

I'm stoned on muscle relaxers. The house is heating up. It smells like a campfire. Are there really more sirens these days? Or am I just now noticing? How did we get here*, as a planet?

*Stuck inside during a pandemic reading a near constant stream of fake news from all sides to gear up for one of the most dramatic Presidential races in history while outside is burning because of climate change-induced drought and unprecedented August lighting storms. And let's not even get started on the systemic racism. Feels too big to tackle. Or the psychological toll being quarantined has on you, your partner, and your relationship. Feels too small to matter. People are dying after all. They're dying here and in Palestine and in Beirut and in China and I'm so, so lucky. So lucky I don't always let myself feel my feelings. Feelings feel indulgent. I'm privileged enough to get to possibly just consider the opportunity that I might do Whole 30 in September. But I'm not giving up my soy creamer. I just can't get by on black coffee.

I'm glad I'm stoned. It helps when reading Facebook. I could really go for a martini and some precedented times. 

random musings ending in the title of my autobiography:

 The air is heavy and so am I.

We cleaned ash up from our windowsills and floors. It's hot and our windows are closed but we can smell the smoke anyway. My right ovary hurts. I'm doing something I never do, which is lying in bed instead of taking a walk or looking for a job or working out or zooming a friend. I'll likely regret the choice later. 

I had to have a virtual meeting with my PCP today, because my new insurance won't cover a migraine Rx that has been working wonders for me. Our system is so f&^*%ed. What if this was actually life-threatening? 

So many childhood friends on Facebook are Trumpers and it bums me out so hard. I see how they're raising brainwashing their kids to think their masks are stupid and the Clintons ran a child sex trafficking operation out of a pizza parlor and it makes me want to rip my eyelashes out. How did we get here, as a nation? I've voted for both Democrats and Republicans in my lifetime. When did everyone get so MEAN?

Some people want equality and some want revenge. I personally don't believe revenge makes you feel any better and if it does make you feel better, what does that say about you? Shouldn't we go high? Why doesn't reciprocation make you just as bad as the person who did it?

I can't figure out how to pair my bluetooth headphones to my bluetooth sound bar speaker and if that's not a first world problem I don't know what is. It also makes me feel solidly middle-aged. 

I took off my sneakers and left them in the middle of the floor. I've been staring at them for 20 minutes, thinking I should get up and put them away. It's all fun and games until your spouse comes in and trips over something you deliberately left out because you were too lazy to get up. 

the end of birthday celebrations

Yesterday was my last bday party. Jason and Leanne and Barbara and Carson and Tara and Joan. A lot of people didn't make it which was kind of a bummer since everyone went to a lot of trouble to make and bring food and drinks. It rained all night the night before - a rarity in San Francisco, especially in August - and I was worried that it would be humid and steamy and everyone would be miserable. After most people had left Barbara and John got into an intense discussion that brought up years of hurt feelings and it was all pretty aggressive and ended the evening on a sour note. I'm super pissed about it to be honest but it's his friendship and he's protective of it in general so I can't really say much without being an asshole. 

I walked to Bi-Rite and spent $170 on groceries. WTF. I have mosquito bites that are driving me absolutely bonkers. I'm over-socialized from all the get-togethers and want to stay inside for a week.

This morning I weighed 150 lbs. I'm not body shaming -- especially during this quarantine -- I feel like I generally look pretty good for 44. But nothing fits and I'm kind of uncomfortable so I need to make some changes. Going to go grain-free and nix the non-fermented cow dairy for a bit, skip the mixed drinks, work out more, etc. Just little steps to get myself in a healthier frame of mind (and body).

Had a phone call with a recruiter for a staffing agency this AM. She seems very young and inexperienced and says "um" a lot which drives me crazy. We have a zoom interview tomorrow afternoon and she said she would send me a zoom link and some questions to answer before our talk. That was 3 hours ago and I haven't heard from her yet which is a bit irritating. How long do I wait before following up via phone? Ugh. 

back!

 I skipped the last two days! UGH I couldn't even make it a week. 'ts fine, 'ts fine, let's keep going.

Thursday was my birthday. Probably the first birthday ever in my life that I didn't leave the house. JCII made me jook with jammy eggs and chile crunch for breakfast and it was amazing. I did the Thursday NYT crossword and I hate Thursdays, so I went back and did my breezy Tuesday birthday puzzle from 2019. I did a barre class online. I had an adult lunchables plate and several amaretto sours with Ange and then Danael via FaceTime. We ordered Nari for dinner, drank a bottle of bubbles, and watched Keeping the Faith. 

(one time I made four El Diablos for Ed Norton at Nopalito)

A truly excellent day.v

Yesterday my girls gave me a picnic in the park. It was about 90 degrees, which is unheard of and I feel guilty for being born in the hottest month of the year. However outside felt better than inside (no AC) so we set up in the shade and it was lovely and perfect. Stayed out way past dark and drank way too much but boy was it fun. Today will be recoop day because we're doing it again tomorrow with Jason and Barbara and crew.

last day of 43

get up. brush teeth. feed cats. make coffee. do crossword puzzle. make breakfast. clean up. work out. take shower. read. random house project time! check Covid stats. make lunch. clean up. take out trash. zoom with friends. make cocktail. make dinner. clean up. feed cats. watch tv. do puzzle. fall asleep. how can anyone complain about this? oh wait - watch the news. freak out. 

Kamala Harris has been chosen as the VP running mate. I'm on one hand feeling like OBVIOUSLY they will win because hasn't everyone been paying attention for the last 4 years? and simultaneously full of dread that we are fucked because people have decided that it's OK to be terrible. 

San Francisco is serving $200 sushi in igloo-sized plastic bubbles next to homeless people. WTAF y'all.

lunch: huli huli chicken and a salad made of leftovers that make no sense being together.

sometimes journaling is just a bunch of lists

I was wide awake at 7am and now I'm dozing off. JCII thinks I should take a nap. I think that sounds like a bonkers thing for a grown-up to do at 9:45am on a Tuesday. I think I'll make migas instead.

I should work out today. I have errands to run. I need to repot some plants. My baby sister wife is bringing me my favorite sandwich from the Mission. I have huli huli chicken marinating in the fridge for dinner. Going to make it with snap peas. Trying to finalize birthday plans. Just paid my bills. Ouch. I had to contact Amazon about some mustard that came with the seal broken and Liberty of London because my coupon code didn't work. I just ordered a studfinder!

The cats have finally conceded that I'm back from vacation for good and they can hang out with me again. I did the laundry and took the trash out and went to the grocery store. How do people have time to run efficient households AND work a full-time job? Baffling.

Not much to say in the way of coherent thoughts today but I'm trying my best to be in the habit of journaling. Even if it's just a bunch of lists. That's an accurate representation of my life at the very least.

Reading: Big Friendship
Listening: Becoming, by Michelle Obama, "That Tulum Sound" on Spotify
Watching: 30 Rock
Eating: black beans, corn, avocado, tomatoes, chips + eggs + salsa
Cooking: Making a pesto pasta salad for Friday. Looking for a perfect slaw recipe for Sunday. am considering a red cabbage and snap pea thing with sesame oil and yuzu hot sauce
Waiting on: my dream job

Journaling Day Two: Electric Bugaloo

Good Morning, Journal. Karl the Fog is thicc today. It's 55 degrees. I like calling this month Fog-ust. Today is my second day of journaling. Me, to me: Don't edit; just write. Me, back: But it's disjointed and awkward! Me, still: It's just journaling!!

Let's see. What do I want to remember? We re-started our living room project yesterday. Cleaned out 6 grocery bags of books and DVDs/blu-rays and somehow don't have any additional space? Met up with Barbara & Carson for drinks in the Park. Got take-out from Aziza. Watched 30 Rock. I feel like these details are what I will want to remember. It was a pretty good day.

Today is Monday. I submitted my unemployment. It's laundry day. I hate laundry day. It's also Danael & Craig day. I love Danael and Craig day. Then I'm going to attend a virtual book reading at Green Apple with Molly Wizenberg and then I'm going to make chicken & snap peas. Most people are about as happy as they make their minds up to be. I can do this.

Other random Monday morning thoughts:

• I had a weird dream last night that sort of came true this morning. Seer or self-fulfilling prophetess? Does it matter?
• Filling out a job application and they asked me to list what I do in my non-work time with percentages. Now plagued with the answer. Will anyone be impressed that I spend 10% of my day cheating on the NYT crossword? (Not today though. Mondays I can usually handle.)
• I'm hungry. 
• Even though I'm writing this for myself and know no one else is looking at it, I want to update all the sidebar links. I don't remember anything about html. Is it worth my time? Probably not. But I do have a lot of time these days. 
• I want to write Cuyler's memoirs. Is that shooting for the stars? Maybe we could start with one story at a time. I've read three books of essays this year and I could totally do that. Then you what, pick a theme and string 'em all together? Am I nuts? It sounds so doable.

It's just journaling. See you tomorrow! 

the one in which she decides to start journaling

I've been meaning to start journaling during "these uncertain times." Aren't you sick AF of those words? What do they even mean? But here we are, in these uncertain times, and boy are they uncertain.

I'm using this space because it still exists (thanks, Internet) and don't expect anyone to know it's here or read it. That's OK. I want to remember these uncertain times and with 44 around the corner, I don't remember that much that isn't directly applicable to maintaining life these days. I like typing more than writing - writing hurts my hand :( - remember, I'm old. This will be a place for my thoughts to spill out with little thought of editing.

It's August 9th. We have been in quarantine for 146 days.

WHAT. THE. F&*%.

I have used the word "unprecedented" more in the past 146 days that I have in the last 44 years, all added up. I don't even know how to feel about things because none of this has ever happened before. Oh sure, our president just said out loud on a podium in front of people that a small child in the audience knows more about the economy than a Congress member with a degree in economics. Oh sure, murder hornets. Oh sure, Beirut just exploded. Oh sure, there are a million Chinese muslims being kidnapped into weird slavery factories called "re-education centers." Oh sure, of course someone posted a photo of a crowded high school hallway and got suspended for it.

Remember the time in 8th great I had to wear a pair of gross PE sweatpants under my (very conservative) denim skirt because it didn't touch the floor when I knelt down on my knees? But god forbid we require masks during global pandemic, because "our freedoms!" People are WACK, y'all.

I'm luckier than most. I miss my work and restaurants and movie theaters and not having nose zits from wearing a mask. But my spouse is still working, we have a rent-controlled apartment and health insurance. I've never been bored a day in my life (props, GenX). I've done all the NYT crosswords for 2020, 2019, and I'm now working on 2018. I cook. I clean. I start projects that I sometimes finish. I drink too much. I zoom zoom zoom around the room room. I walk. I do yoga. I read. I watch movies. This is not a bad life. In fact I kinda like it. Oh wait, here comes the existential doom.

What happens in the fall when the time changes and it's cold and wet and dark and I can't spend all afternoon in the sunshine? I'm legit worried about depression. Do I get to worry about depression when others are worried about childcare, paying rent, food, schooling, sickness, and death? I guess I do. But it feels off.

Everything feels off. The world is irrevocably changed. That's terrifying. And yet, I hope it's true.

I applied for a dreamy job yesterday. I hope I get it. I hope I don't. I hope I write more. I hope I get to look back on these uncertain times someday as a beautiful time of growth and opportunity. In the meantime, I'm going to go to the farmers' market and repot some plants and meet up with some friends in the Park for a drink and order takeout and watch John Oliver and cry because the world is legit fucked.