Category: heartblog

moon sickness

My period cramps are so bad, they’re like those massage chairs that roll up and down your back except it’s not my back and it’s not a massage it’s just waves of bad

I cry so easily when I’m involuntarily bleeding like this, and I can feel my mood turn at the drop of a hat and it’s like I’m on the outside telling my inside self, “NO STOP, IT’S NOT A REAL FEELING IT’S THE BLOOD BEAST. THE MOON SICKNESS!!”

Me refusing to listen to myself over and over again and smiling ear to deaf ear while I dive head first into cold waters avoiding meeting my own eyes in the reflection yet again yet again yet again

And after the blood beast has ravaged my village (vagillage??? anyone???) I’m left looking at all the shit I wrecked because I was PMSing like a motherfucker and I’m SORRY but also my lower back hurts too much to pick up the pieces right now please call back in 2-3 business days

Whatever I’ll YouTube a Ted Talk when it’s over. Get a latte. A frappe!!!

I could eat a whole seafood buffet right now. Every single crab leg they’ve got would be like a sacrifice to the blood gods and maybe then I wouldn’t cry so easily and it wouldn’t hurt so bad

The ancient art of bleeding through your underwear at work. The timeless fear of sneezing.

‘Experience’ by Ludovico Einaudi type of shit

I can remember so much about the people I care(d) about and yet so little about myself. I think my favorite color is red, but my brain is more worried with trying to retain all of the favorite colors of all of the best friends I’ve ever had.

I am so selfish sometimes and I don’t know why I feel entitled to know everything about someone else while giving up barely anything about me.

At the same time I want someone to know me the way I know them. I want someone to just completely and totally understand me yet I actively push against it. The times I do share I feel like I’m saying too too too much and maybe I am afraid that if the someone I wanted to, really knew me, they wouldn’t find me that great.

I am named after a flower. I think I take too long to bloom and who wants to wait to see that when there are other much brighter and prettier flowers unfurling their petals faster?

But I hope one day I will bloom and there will be someone who is patient enough to catch the slow unraveling of each of my anxious petals and believe the final result was worth the wait.

the sentence.

If you were to write a book, what would be the sentence used to tell the reader that your character had fallen in love?

After she was sure he had gone, she took the pillow he had lain on and held it to her face, feeling the warmth of his lingering presence and smelling the remnants of his scent.

It isn’t so much falling in love as it is realizing that you had existed within it as a state of being for so long now that you can’t name the exact moment it occurred and you have no memory of falling at all, no bruises and no pain. Just patience.

on being tired but for good reasons

I’m too tired to make a great big entry to this post but I have a list of good reasons to be tired that make you feel good:

  • Working for over 12 hours and getting great work done that you’re proud of and going to bed without any more things you have to do
  • Staying up too late talking to your favorite person even though your eyelids can’t possibly be open for much longer, you keep them open just to hear them talk
  • Figuring out how to play a song that isn’t tabbed anywhere and even though you won’t play it for anyone because they wouldn’t know it, you remembered all the words and got all the notes right just for you
  • Finishing the last season of the best show ever and taking time to figure it all out
  • Thinking a little too much about someone and wondering what they meant when they said that thing that made you smile so big that you felt it all day and all night
  • Not moving from your spot on the couch because your little animal is asleep and you just can’t bear to wake it up because it’s just so cute and you’re so happy that your pet is your small house guardian
  • Reading a really good book and not realizing that you’d spent hours and hours reading but it was so worth it for the ending and the story and you get to take part of that story with you into your own
  • Going on an epic Wikipedia or YouTube dive and learning a bunch of new things that you wouldn’t have if you hadn’t happened upon them
  • Still taking off your makeup and putting your hair in a ponytail so it doesn’t get messed up with you sleep even though you could dive under the blankets now, but you prevented the messed up hair and the zit that always pops up when you don’t wash your face
  • Looking forward to something so much that you can’t sleep like you’re a kid going to Disneyland for the first time ever but you’re not a kid so you have to relish these moments because they’re so few and far between

And that’s it, a lot of run on sentences later. I’m happy and happy to be happy for many many reasons but these are a few good ones.

genius only comes along in storms of fabled foreign tongues

It feels like taking melatonin and getting slowly sleepier and sleepier except I don’t feel like going to sleep I just feel comfort and like I am testing my own patience like a rubber band.

In my head I am sending you waves of pink and red and white and in person I am snapping the invisible rubber band against my wrist again to literally snap out of it.

Talking to you feels like lighting a candle and feeling the warmth and smelling something clean and strong like fresh laundry, but from someone else’s house so I can’t pinpoint the exact brand.

You are not soft but constant and bold. I have always hidden my softness and hidden my strength and I worry that you still can’t, will never see either.

don’t you ever feel like you’ve been destined for something bigger than your skin?

This week I saw a friend from college who has worked harder to make a life for herself than anyone I know. She has no parents and no family support and yet she still loves to cook for her friends and has the guts to move to London from Long Beach to chase after her masters degree and dreams.

I saw SnackPack and we slow danced to M83 under a disco ball that doesn’t spin properly and I felt happier than I have in a while. He doesn’t look like it, but his kisses are so sweet.

I saw Johnny Bravo and he taught me how to smoke a cigar, even though I didn’t get the hang of it. I wonder if we’ll be friends for a long time or if it’s just another side effect of the coronavirus. I know I’ll miss him when he’s gone this time and I’ll miss him when he’s gone the next time for much longer.

I work in a antiques store on Fridays now and I love that the little old ladies play Elvis Presley and make their own furniture and surround themselves with pretty things that people buy and put in their homes.

I had a good weekend, there was not a single bad thing that happened and it feels nice. I am going to bring the happiness over to the week and put in as much effort at work as I can, and do my best because I feel good when I’m truly doing my best.

I hope you have a good week too, and if your weekend sucked then I hope you find a reason before Monday to make the next five days better. Every weekend is a fresh start.

today I walk light

I am not here to absorb your grievances, your maladies, and try to compel myself to discover what invisible affliction has made you so full of bullshit. I will not let you try to get me to pretend your imagined issues are important. Today I walk light. I am the personification of a sunbeam and I may just strike you blind upon entering my presence. On this day, I will pirouette my entire journey around the sun in while chewing multiple sticks of bubblegum at one time until I have enough to hang you up on the Seattle gum wall where you and all of the other icky, sticky fiends belong.

I can’t wait to meet you! But I totally can

I was talking to my friend about finding love and they’re impatient about how long it’s going to take them.

I’m off the dating app thing, and I know I won’t go back to them. I hate feeling like people are so easily replaced, and texting back in forth before ever meeting has always ruined things for me. People are never who you build them up to be in your head, and it just becomes a waste of time. It all feels so forced and it just hasn’t worked for me.

I’m so excited for when I get to meet the person I will fall in love with, but I can wait. There’s something comforting about knowing that while I’m making myself into the best person I can be, someone is out there making themself into the best person they can be for me too.

I hope I’ll know when I meet someone special, and I hope I’ll be ready for it. Until then, I’m excited to see what happens during the in-between. I want to travel and write and get to know myself better. There are a lot of things I’d like to accomplish before that, and I will have so many stories to tell my person.

I am excited! I can’t wait to love you with everything I’ve got, but I can also definitely wait. It won’t be wasted time. You’ll be worth the wait.

shark week hoo ha ha

Can we just, as people who experience periods, get a pass sometimes to act irrationally because periods suck and feel bad and they make you feel alone and ostracized because for whatever goddamn reason it’s still taboo to talk about.

I had car trouble on the second day of my period. Then I got some really bad news, and you can imagine how that went.

If you don’t know, the first 24 hours after the onset of your period are the worst for cramps and hormone levels. It truly is like the gates of the underworld have opened in your uterus and the hounds of hell are running around ragdolling the shit out of your insides. Maybe a less graphic description is the scene in Spongebob where the little worker Spongebobs in his brain are short circuiting and there is a fire and sheer panic because they threw out his name and can’t remember. Instead of WE THREW OUT HIS NAME! it’s WE MUST SHED THE EGG!

In summary, there is a lot of blood and there are a lot of emotions.

I felt very alone, which I am usually fine with. I like being alone, and I like doing things by myself. But not on that night. I hate feeling powerless. I hate hate hate asking for help.

I’m waiting for my tire to be fixed, trying to stand still and listen while it feels like a melon baller is scooping out my insides. The guy is asking me questions about how long I drove on the flat tire, and what caused it, and I’m trying to swallow my nausea before I answer.

I’m also wondering what time exactly did I put my tampon in because if it was noon then I won’t die from toxic shock syndrome, probably. Hopefully. And I’m angry. So angry because why don’t we have anything better yet? Why does the only thing that actually works and isn’t uncomfortable, the tampon, have to have such a huge risk of death. Why isn’t there an option that doesn’t make you feel like you’re wearing a blood-soaked diaper, or risk actual death, or worse, smell like blood?? I was angry and I was having the worst cramps I’ve had in a while.

I felt flight-or-flight-y, and my eyes were filled with tears but I didn’t want to let them go because I knew people would think it’s because I couldn’t handle a flat tire but I just couldn’t handle it on top of my bad news on top of the worst day of my period. I didn’t want to be the girl that cries because she’s on her period. And my back hurts and my boobs are sore and I got a zit from hormonal fucking acne.

I would like to have whatever causes that – prostaglandins? estrogen? progesterone? – removed.

I was like how on earth could I be expected to deal with this news and get my car fixed while I’m publicly bleeding out? Can I get a stunt double, because this sucks.

And people will go ewwww and gross like half of the population doesn’t experience this once a month and put on a fake smile and do everything that the other half of the population does while the lining of one of their organs is literally shedding itself and pouring out of their bodies.

Fuck those commercials where the ladies are playing tennis and smiling and jumping around like having a rolled up plastic time bomb up their bajingos is so fun, so convenient. I want to take my boobs off, put them on a hanger, and go get a facial and a massage because my back is killing me and this zit is basically a second head. I want to destroy the Pyramids of Giza in sweatpants with a hot water bottle duct taped to my stomach and eat an entire cheesecake after with my bare hands.

block ‘em, block ‘em all!!!!

The holidays scare away all the boys who only want to come over after 10:36 p.m. They don’t return until after the yucky cuffing and cuddling season is over, until the fireworks are in the air and it’s a new year so the coast is clear!!! The Women Are Over Their Need To Have A Fulfilling Relationship. We Are Safe Until October.

They’ll be the first to wish you happy new year and the first to swipe up on your selfies and reply on Snapchat. They’ll even send you a DM of your own Instagram picture and tell you how delicious you look (because you do!) but they won’t comment publicly. Of course not.

One will tell you how much he missed you and how busy he was, and you’ll think Really? Busy in the middle of this pandemic, even? Wow gosh gee whiz. How surprising! Except for the part where it isn’t surprising because it never is. This would be the third chance you’ve given him to suddenly fall in love with you and not just use you like a blowup doll. Do you think the third time’s a charm?

One will say he just used this time to really focus on work, and you’ll ask Oh well have you become very successful then? Have you lived up to your big talk about how much money you can make? And he will say this new year looks very promising, very lucrative, and can you send a picture?

One will say he shut everybody out, it’s not just you. He barely talked to his friends, even. He’s so sorry about that. So so sorry, it wasn’t cool. So can he come over? He can’t stop thinking about your body.

What about a personal favorite of mine, he has really grown so much this past year. He’s so thankful for everything, and hopes you are too. He hopes you want to hear about how much he has bettered himself. He knows his path, but he forgot your address, can you send it so he can come in 30 minutes to just hang out and catch up? In bed?

Getting a cute little Snapchat when you’re drinking a glass of wine alone watching a movie that says “ha ha ha ha ha get drunker and send cleavage pics“ should make you throw up in your mouth and hit block. Do it, I dare you. I double dog dare you.

Then hold up your wine tumbler that keeps the rosé cold and cheers to how great your cleavage will look in the face of the actual man who loves you, when that happens. SPOILER ALERT: it will happen, and it will happen so good. Cheers to the dirty dirty dirty sex you’ll have with a man you didn’t give it up to until you were exclusive. And fucking cheers to saying goodbye to these losers and waiting for a little thing called true love, baby!