Like a Dog After a Bath.

{WHAT IS THIS FEELING.}

So, this is a weird thing.

I feel.... good?

I've recently come down with a bout of gratefulness.  Hold on, everyone, we just don't know if it will last. 

I have no idea how this happened, and it certainly isn't like me, but the combination of everything right in my life has somehow made me smile in the mornings and laugh even more throughout the day.  It used to be that I really only laughed inappropriately to cope with my grumpy thoughts (drama).  Now I find myself laughing because I am....laughing.

I find myself to be insufferable.

The realization came about a month ago.  I don't know what spurred it, but it seemed that a few moments of clarity revealed to me that, while I don't have even close to everything that I want, I HAVE A FUCKING LOT.

I have a gainful job that I keeps me in contact with real humans that need me.

I have a killer apartment, in a killer neighborhood.

I have silly and sweet friends who always want dinner and will bring wine.

I have talents that I like.  I LIKE that I do comedy.  I LIKE that I cook.  I LIKE that I play a bit of guitar and can harmonize to the radio.  I genuinely enjoy my own company.

I have an arsenal of stories from my short life thus far.  Some will shock you, some will make you cry.  I could sit at a campfire for weeks and tell you stories about traveling the world, kissing wild men, life, death, and so much in between.

I have friends to call family, and enough family to call.

I'm sorry for the interruption of the snarky blog of complaints.  I just always make myself be honest here, and right now I am honestly the most content I have felt in years, maybe if ever.  Whatever is causing it, we should also send to the Middle East, and infuse it into goverment officials' offices.

The Silk Tape Road: Seattle Children's

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I haven't posted an installment of this blog series in a long time?  Perhaps it's because I worked at the same hospital for three years in LA, or perhaps because that wasn't the greatest work environment, and I was wary of being fired over an internet posting.

However that is, I'm ready to write about work again.

I am currently employed as a travel RN in the Peds ICU at Seattle Children's.  I was initially hired in September, and have been extending my contract every three months, and am signed on through the end of August.  At this time, I will have worked there for a year, and will have to make some decisions about where to go from there.

Top Five Questions Everyone Has Been Asking Me About Work:

1.  "Do you like this hospital?"  

I sodding love it.  I don't even know how this happened, but this is the such a great place to work.  It's well-staffed, well-resourced, and well-run.  There will always be things to complain about, but for the most part, this is just a completely pleasant job.  The people who work there are oddly and almost irritatingly enthusiastic and committed to their professions.  I honestly, couldn't have come from a more opposite environment.  The staff at Children's seem genuinely invested in creating a community, and it's just a damn breath of fresh air.

Examples:

-Every morning, when shift change happens, all of the staff that are working that day, including nurses, doctors, respiratory therapists, social workers, etc etc all gather in a drum circle.  We go around and everyone gives their name, their profession, and who they're taking care of that day.  It's so cheesy and simple, but it honestly helps so much in creating a snuggly village.

-Within a few weeks of my start date, it was announced that our manager was stepping down because of health issues.  In order to send her off well, a group of the nurses planned a goodbye party for her at a bar, complete with a live band and a pre-rehearsed flash mob.  We are talking about a BOSS, people.  How many people would do that for their boss?!  Do you even like yours?!

-Every weekend that our eldest attending doctor works, he tumbles into the nurses lounge with scads of bagels and shmear.  That's what's missing from the Middle East: simple carbs and spreadable cheese.

- The employee entrance to the hospital is, every day, a bicycle dog pile.  There are so many incentives to bike.  I just like that.  I also like seeing our administrators roll up to work in their spandex shorties and clip in shoes.

-Usually, when I have to call other departments like X-Ray, Pharmacy, or Lab, I brace myself before I dial.  These disciplines are notoriously cranky, despite having very little actual patient contact (or maybe that's why?).  Through some crazy fluke, everyone at Children's is smiling on the other line when I call.  They are just plain tickled to come do my X-Ray or draw my labs.  You guys, this is just so weird.

-There are, at any time, at least 4 baby showers happening.  I'm not saying Children's is better because people are always pregnant (which is absolutely true), but that it's better because people are always throwing parties for people.  Our bathrooms are littered with fliers for martini nights, farewell Barbecues, and therapeutic teas.

2.  "Well! Are you gonna stay?"

I DON'T KNOW.  When Sept comes, I have to either leave Seattle, take a staff position, or take a month off and come back again as a traveller.

I figure August 30th is a while away, and I don't have to think about it until it's August.  I'm keeping a very zen in my mind, you-know-except-other-crap, and choosing indecision until then.  I know, that when the time comes, and there is a suitable position available for me at this place, then I will take it.  If not, I will pursue other things.

3.  "Where else would you go?!"

I DON'T KNOW.  Such is the nature of my life, that I am plagued with options.  There are so many places, and that's why I just plain won't decide until I have to.

Sometimes I think about spending the fall in NYC, which I love and didn't get enough of.  I could fall in love with standup again, see lots of shows, and feel some real city hustle again. Other times, I think about going to Denver to live with Nick.  He's single again, and now's the time for us to really have fun and be in the same place.  Then still other times, I think about Austin or New Orleans or DC or Hawaii.  You see?  It's not good to speculate too much before go time.  I just have to go when it's time to go.

4.  Hey, I thought you moved to Seattle to stay and wash up?!

Well, yes.  I still think it was absolutely the right thing to do to leave LA and move here.  However, there is a difference between the initial coming here, and staying indefinitely.  I still just don't have a legit reason to be anywhere, and as much as I love Seattle, I don't know that it's enough reason to stop finding new places.

5.  What would it take for you to stay?

Honestly, something kinda drastic I think?  It seems like I am just the person that will require a pregnancy, a dream job, a crisis, or a good man to tumble me back to Earth.  My dreamer mentality keeps me constantly in the world of the Next Possible Thing, and I just don't know how to shut that off, or if I even should.  I am starting, more and more, to see the benefit of a home, but I just don't know where that is yet.  I can't just stay somewhere because I can't think of anything else to do.  The problem is, I can always think of hundreds of other things to do.

Pray for me.

Post Script: This list was a cutesy way of addressing my current work status, but the truth is that the #1 question everyone always asks me about work is if I ever see Russell Wilson.  The answer is yes, almost every Tuesday that I work, and sometimes other days of the week when he surprises us.  He's a darling, a love, all the patients/parents just go crazy over him, and he is now the only professional athlete that I like. 

Natural Disaster Love Machine

I can already hear the unmuffled groans and see the eyerolls from my friends as I type this, but in the spirit of transparency, I must say something about the times that I feel the most hopeful for love and sweetly anxious toward What May Come. (someone slap me)

As seasons change, and our planet squeaks and whines through the abuse of us, the inevitable result seems to be a series of natural disasters.  It seems that as civilization powers on and we burn another year's worth of fossil fuels, Mother Earth is more and more losing her patience with us.  So I guess she is lashing out in the only way she knows how.  Enter the recent years' string of natural disasters.  The hurricanes, tornadoes, mudslides, sinkholes, and earthquakes.

Now now, I know that no one really likes a natural disaster.  It can be horrible.  Lives are lost, homes are destroyed, people displaced and landscapes ruined forever.  I get that completely, and I am in no way downplaying the horrific scene painted by these events.

I am, however, a little weirdly giddy about a mild natural disaster.  I'm talking like, an ice storm, or a wimpy tornado..... a three day blizzard.  Just a small burst of weather inconvenience to change the routine of a city and force people together in unexpected ways.   I just think that there is something beautiful and fun about an entire area being compelled to look up form their tablet screens and board up some windows.  There's a buzz in the air as people all gather supplies and 'hunker down to wait'.  Friends smush together at the house with the most board games and take turns winding the hand-crank-powered flashlight.  Am I a monster??

I just think that a change in routine always brings about great stories and meet-cutes.  When such disasters strike across the nation, I am always glued to the newscasts, not for updates on the latest progress of cleanups for cloud movements, but for the human interest stories that inevitably emerge from the sandbag precessions.

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When Sandy hit NYC, the second thought I had after worrying about those little NICU babies without their incubators, was that that was the best city to be caught in a hurricane.  That huge vat of people will be huddled everywhere, and you just know unlikely pairs will all be touching each other and falling in love.   There's a reason why there's always a surge in births 9 months after a natural disaster, people!  Citizens are forced to look up from their lives and notice the people around them.  Isn't it a beautiful by-product?  I remember seeing those photos of homeowners stretching extension cords out of their houses for passersby to charge their phones, and thinking, I bet so many people are meeting and falling in love in front of a charging station.

So the next time Seattle is hit by torrential rains (that never happens), or geologists start harping about 'The Big One' rocking the Space Needle into the Pacific, y'all can come on over to my place.  I have jenga, cider, and probably the cuddliest blankets.  Bring someone cute and witty, with a great chin, along.

Favorite Texts from Nick Lately

"I just snorted in the United Club.  Thank you very much." 

 I had just sent him a photo of my face, mouth agape, so that he may compare the size of my teeth to Lisa Ling's.  I'm not sure who was declared the toothiest, but the visual of Nick snorting alongside those staunchy business elite makes me a winner for sure.

"Too loud, too touristy, too sexy, etc.  I mean, we can't help it."  

We were talking about how we were constantly in trouble and an embarrassment to all others around us on our Peru trip.  We just have the most fun there ever is to have, and people hate it.  As a public service, we don't go on trips nearly often enough. 

"Girl, the NSA is listening"  

SO maybe I made a joke about bombing his house, for dramatic effect.  He's watching out for me, while the feds are watching out for everyone else?

"weddings are stupid."  

This is a lie.  He loves them, wants a big one with yards of bunting and scads of twirling attendees on the dance floor.  I will wear a sparkly dress, and will serenade the guests as they are seated to selections of my favorite country ballads. 

"If my life turns into a romcom, I'm gonna hang myself with my Brooks Brothers tie."  

Also a lie.  He loves the smush.  He just hates himself for loving it.  That's why we're the perfect pair.  hmmphrt.

"Rather not say.  You'll be mad."  

Life has gotten a bit real for Nick in the past few months, and so of course he has me to say the awful truths about him and ask the ugly questions.  We have never had to tiptoe around each other, and sometimes it's terrible.  He knows when I'll call out his nonsense, and I know he'll tell me when I get fat.  

"whine whine whine"

We are both total wonderful-life-whiners.  Nick is a successful attorney in a great town, working at a job that he's really qualified for.  He has killer abs, pretty eyes, and enough United miles to fly around the world twice.  Nonetheless, he can't stop complaining about his schedule or commute or paralegal's business suits, or whatever it is gay lawyers complain about.  I also have it all (minus the abs) and also can't stop complaining about my failed acting pursuit, hard to find parking, or whatever it is Whatever-I-ams complain about.

"Move to Denver.  I need the ego stroke"
The biggest lie.  But, maybe?  I think about it a lot.  Maybe.

#YesItsYourFault

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For those of you that aren't participators of widespread twitter movements, there was one recently that has garnered certain attentions, and it seems like a prime subject for a sweet and mild blog opinion post.  This is my specialty, no?

A little while ago, the hashtag #YesAllWomen started trending.  It was meant to bring attention to the universality of sexual harassment experienced by women, and called women all over the World Wide Web to share their thoughts and personal filters on the matter.  Not only did a firestorm of scary stories and sweet unity surface, but a reactionary backlash from misunderstanding men and commentators as well.  The internets was ablaze with finger-pointing and ugliness, along with support and calls for change.

I added a few tweets myself, just the first thoughts that came to my mind as read through the material and pondered my own history.  It's really easy for me to scatter in all of the gross situations I've been in, knowing men to treat me like a personal fetish-y sex robot and the like.  But after a few snarky tweets, and a moment or two of realistic pondering, my new issue is that it's YOUR fault.  Yeah, whoever you are.  Man, woman, and anything else.  The harassment and hurt is your fault.  This rant is directed toward heterosexuals, but that's my experience level, so you'll have to pardon the specificity:

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Hey Gals, it's YOUR FAULT when:

You use your body only as a sex object, dressing scantily and acting lewdly in public for men and women en masse.

Hey Guys, it's YOUR FAULT when:

You take women behaving that way as a cue to react with entitlement.  Yeah, sometimes we make you see our sexy parts.  We even want you to.  But that doesn't mean we owe you anything.

Hey Gals, its YOUR FAULT when:

You talk about the men you date like they're beneath you, like butlers or pool boys.  This whole 'pussy-whipped boyfriend' phenomenon has gone way too far.  Girls are mean to guys.  It's gross.

Hey Guys, it's YOUR FAULT when: 

You talk about the girls you date like they're crazy for being interested, or wanting consistent time.  I'm not a crazy bitch if I like to know if I might see you later, or if I think it's strange that you haven't responded.

Hey Gals, it's YOUR FAULT when:

You obsess over your body and dress, worshipping models and actors for their blowy hair and perfect breasts.

Hey Guys, it's YOUR FAULT when:

You obsess over our body and dress, worshipping models and actors for their blowy hair and perfect breasts.

(Does anyone ever stop to wonder if those characters are happy, fulfilled, or productive?  Does anyone ever wonder if they like their neighbors, or like speaking in silly accents?  I only ever hear the word 'hot' in my own head, when flipping through magazines or driving by billboards.  No one ever looks smart to me.)

Hey Gals, it's YOUR FAULT when:

You choose to not invest in guy friends whom you don't find attractive

Hey Guys, it's YOUR FAULT when:

You choose to view your gal friends as useless to you, as soon as you think sex off the table.

Hey Gals, it's YOUR FAULT when: this shit

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Don't call men idiots just for being men, particularly the man you love!  It's not cute.  It doesn't make you powerful or feminist.  It makes you an ass.

Hey Guys, it's YOUR FAULT when: this shit

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Don't celebrate stupidity.  Hot trumps all?  How can we not hate you if this is what you're telling us you want?

My point here is, why all the Battle of the Sexes constantly?!  We're awful to each other, and just because one sex has historically been more wildly mistreated, doesn't make the other a lesser species now.   Hey Gals, stop being asses.  Hey Guys, stop mistreating women.  #YesAllWomen.

Movie Mojo

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This is a story about second looks.

Once, I met a guy.  I did not like him.  He and a bunch of his friends were staying in the same place as my friend and I, and we met in a common area after both parties happened to pour themselves in for the night at the same time.  As we exchanged late night conversation and notes on our journeys, I found myself increasingly irritated by his very presence.  He was your typical bro, show boat-y and loud.  He interrupted everyone, outdo-ing every story and comment.  He rambled, he over-gestured.  I could smell his overcompensation but definitely wasn't interested in finding out the source of his insecurities.  I'm just trying to have a good time, Bro.  I found myself so annoyed that I begged to bed quickly, smiling at the others as I ducked out of the room to escape.

Well, a few days later, we ran into him on our way out of town.  We had a few hours before flying out, and was headed to the airport to drop our car off.  He asked if he could tag along, as he was flying out at the same time.  Well, we're not jerks, so he piled himself and his bags into our car and came with to the airport.  Once there, we had several hours to kill before our flights, sitting at the airport coffeeshop.  During that time, he was calmer.  While he still squawked out the occasional douche-y quip, he was mostly just conversational and chatty.  As it turns out, he's been through a lot and led quite a life.  As the three of us sat there laughing and sharing stories, I hated him less and less until I really only hated him a little (the douche-y squawking).  I actually kind of had some warm fuzzies toward him, he was kinda sweet.  He teased my stubborn independence and shamelessly flirted, finding excuses to touch or say nice things.

So then, we were left alone.  My friend had silly-ly left some liquids in her carry on, and was sent back to the counter to check that bag.  So the two of us proceeded through security, and down a long escalator to the gates.  After we reached the point of splitting ways, I, in ever Mingni fashion, flippantly shrugged and told him:

 "Well, safe flight.  Nice to meet you, maybe I'll catch ya somewhere around the world..."

He suggested that we should try to meet up somewhere on another trip.  I again shrugged and told him, "I guess you never know?"  (gerd, i'm the wooooorst)

So off I walked, and as soon as I reached my gate, I groaned at myself.  Of course I shouldn't have left it like that.  We had a fun day together, and he was really sweet to me.  Damn my foolish pride!  The nagging was quite a bother, and after a few minutes (ahem, seconds) I walked back to the bottom of the escalator to where we split.  I don't know what I thought, maybe I would see him?  No idea what I would have done if I did, but I couldn't see him anywhere, and was certainly not going to chase him to his gate, so I settled my mind and decided to just wait there for my friend to follow.

Well, not three minutes later, Dr. Bro comes strolling back to the very spot I was standing.  He apparently made a quick trip to the loo and also felt the need to redo our goodbye.  I laughed and watched him squirm to make small talk, barely making eye contact as I stood in front of him, leaned against a wall.  After roughly 90 seconds of watching him not look at me, I got the message.  I also felt like I wanted to throw him a bone.  So, I backed up against the wall with my arms crossed (brattily), raised one eyebrow and barked,

"Just do it.  I dare you." (i'm still the worst here)

Dr. Bro got that message.  He lept at me and laid one on me good.  I suddenly forgot that we were in the international terminal of a busy airport, and just let this Bro grab my face and pull me close.

Maybe I just needed to be kissed.  Maybe I think all first kisses should happen in an airport.  Maybe I just kiss people I hate.  Maybe I've seen too much Love Actually.  However the motive, I guess I just thought I'd never see him again, and that (single) people should just kiss people when they think of it.  You guys, I have no answers.... just balls.

Part Time Asian

I'm so behind.

Did y'all know I went to China in January?  I spent 2.5 weeks there over Chinese New Year, visiting my family and eating things.  I had previously only ever been during the summer, and I was pleasantly surprised to find that CNY is actually the ideal time to be there.  Typically, I have to share my family's hometowns with the usual hordes of almond eyes, in addition to the thousands that go back every summer from wherever they've immigrated to.  During CNY, the bigger cities are relatively calm and less crowded, due to the millions of city workers that return home to their villages to celebrate the New Year.

This time, I spent a few days in Beijing with my mom's side of the family, eating and exploring the ancient parts of the city with my shutterbug aunt.  After a few days freezing in old Beijing's alleyways, I flew South to Guangzhou, where my dad's family lives.  There, I continued eating and added a side trip southwest to the ocean, where we made a few stops on our way to a hot spring resort.

Behold, my favorite photos from my trip to China this year:

These are from the 798 Art Zone in Beijing.  It was initially built in the Bauhaus style from East Germany as part of a Socialist Factory co-op plan in the 1950s, but has since emerged as a modern art district.  Super cool spot, could be wandered for days.

 

This gal was selling Chinese New Year noisemakers in old Beijing.  The kids all have them this time of year, and run through the streets annoying the entire city. 

 

The ice skaters in JingShan Park, next to the forbidden city.  

Piles and piles of holiday treats.  Street treats are my favorite.  I'll pretty much eat anything and love it, if it comes off of a cart parked on asphalt. 

Alleys in Old Beijing.  People still live and thrive there, even some 800 years after these neighborhoods were built.  Families sharing a small courtyard, and communal bathrooms.  Clothing hung up all over the place, bikes and furniture strewn about.  I love traveling to places that feels like another world.  This spot does it for sure. 

 In Old Beijing, people raise herd of pigeons as food and pets.  They are usually kept in big cages on the rooftops of their homes.  At dusk, after they return home from work, they release the pigeons to fly as their daily exercise.  They are trained to not wander far, and as a result, you will see these birds doing wide laps overhead.

   Old Beijing.  Dinner's in the window, and pick up some snacks from the cart lady on your way into the subway.  The big structure looming behind her is the South Gate to the Forbidden City.  

 A selfie with Grandma, because we're having Peking duck.  It's a rotisserie bird that's been chosen, carved, and brought to your table on a platter.  You eat the meat rolled into a super thin 'tortilla' with chinese barbecue sauce, cucumber spears, and scallions.




In Guangzhou now, Grams and Uncle 4 (you call your Uncles according to birth order) choosing daffodils off of the back of a bike cart, and the rows of flowers at the market.  Around CNY, each neighborhood will have its own district market, will of regional flower growers, snacks, decorations, and other festive goods.  I spent days wandering these places of commerce, and contributing to the local economy.....

 The Kaiping Towers.  There are 4 counties in southern China, where large populations of villagers immigrated to the US and Canada to work in the early 1900s.  They all came back with their fortunes from running restaurants and laundromats, and built themselves some palaces to raise future generations in.  Most were at least 4 stories, all were spectacularly grand.  These are scattered all over these 4 counties along the coast, and were a highlight of the roadtrip to our hot spring retreat.

Walkway between buildings in my Grams' building complex.  Evening light.

  

 The view from my Grams' bedroom window.  Guangzhou reminds me a bit of Miami.  It's humid, and people like to party.











Lanterns strung on every tree in the city.

 

Gray and Glory

Now, anyone who ever hears that I moved to Seattle always wants to talk about the weather first.  Before they ask about my new job and new life here in the PNW, there are always words in reference to the reputation this city has earned for the rain and gloom that dictates the majority of the year.  In these months, I have lamented to locals and transplants alike how mundane the trend is.  I've wanted to bark at all inquirers:

"SEATTLE has borne some of the best modern music of our lifetime!  Seriously, anything you like, I bet it's from Seattle.  (Other than Lucius)"

"SEATTLE is chock full of wonderful food and earth/body loving ways to get it! CSA farms! Fishermen!  Organic dairies!"

"SEATTLE is surrounded by water!  We have two highways that go over Lake Washington!  There are islands!  There are whales!"

"SEATTLE makes tons of beer!  Doesn't everyone want to talk microbrews?!  I know about IPAs!"

"SEATTLE JUST WON THE SUPERBOWL.  I see Russell Wilson almost every week, if I work on a Tuesday!"

"SEATTLE is where Grey's Anatomy is set.  I work in a hospital.  Don't you want to make some irritating reference to that?!  I'll bite!"

Months have gone by, and no one ever asks about orcas or Damien Jurado first.  They all want to talk about the gray clouds and the constant drizzle.  It drove me mad, almost as mad as the actual gray clouds and drizzle did.

Well here I go, eating my words again.

Sigh.  So, I want to talk about the weather.

The weather in Seattle is a miracle.

Let me back up.  For most of October-May, it's horrendous.  Horrendous in the mildest way possible.  It's horrendous because it's not really anything.  The weather for most of the year in Seattle is impotent, passive, and gutless.  A seemingly endless chain of mildly cool temperatures, thick cloud cover, and just enough breeze to annoy the snot out of you and mess up your hair.

On top of that, it's humid, thereby cementing the guaranteed Bad Hair Months.  You bumble around, not needing an ice scraper ever, but also not being able to roll down your windows in the morning.  Light comes in your windows during the day, but not enough to keep the lights off by mid afternoon.  Most days of the week, there will be a slight drizzle in the air for a few hours.  Not enough to count as real rain, but just enough spray to feel like your hairdresser is constantly misfiring her water spritzer into your face.

Have I bummed you out enough??  No wonder why I've been so moody and full of feelings.  I have no choice but to be indoors with them!  Now, to be fair, we have had a particularly mild winter, and I have also had lots of days outside playing in the beauty of the PNW, but more on that later.  For now, I complain.

(It could be April, it could be November.....)

I moved from LA, if you recall, where the weather is 78 and sunny for basically 300 days a year.  I could commit to an outfit 6 months in advance.  (For the record, cotton collared tank, cuffed twill pants, low cut converse sans socks, and a knitted long cardigan.  Works January-through-January.)  I always knew the sun would be out, and I could be in the hills any day that I wanted.  Honestly?  Of course I didn't cherish it.  Sure, I experienced a lot of Sun Guilt (feeling anxiety to get outside when it's sunny), but the morning discovery upon opening my door and feeling the sunshine on my face didn't exactly get me aflutter or anything.  I just put on my yoga pants and went about my day, unruffled.

Seattle will ruffle you in the most diffuse way.  It's the weeks of choosing this Patagonia puffer or that Northface fleece.  It's the constant dissatisfaction with your wiper blades, and the ever present mud on your boots.  You just bundle up and introvert, everyone does.

Here's what 5 months of dreary and inept weather has taught me:

The weather should make you feel something.

There should be ups and downs, a melody if you will, to your days!  No one will notice a note, even if it's the most beautiful note ever played, if that same note gets played every day.

But the miracle is here.  All of a sudden, there will come a day.  A day of glorious sun, where the air feels bright and virile, life giving and soul-patching.  Maybe that day was February 26th.  Maybe it was 61 and sunny.  Maybe the sun, in combination with the water, the farms, the whales, the Seahawks, and some great tunes (albiet from Tennesee) will create just the combination to make you absolutely drunk on your surroundings.  Maybe it will seem like the first time you've felt anything outside yourself in months.  Maybe, the gray impotence serves the purpose of providing the contrast to highlight glory, when it comes.

(Windows down, Sunroof back, biggest grin since September)

Favorite Texts From Nick Lately

"Do men still wear leather jackets?  I mean, I wouldn't."

He was asking for advice on a gift for his partner.  Aaron can thank me later that he did not have to feign enthusiasm at the arrival of an expensive bomber jacket that he would inevitably let the dog use to insulate his bed.  

"Got to ride upper deck biz on a new 747."

Translation:  He was upgraded on a flight from Istanbul to Denver to business class, and got to travel upstairs in a brand new plane.  My gay husband is an elite flyer, and I love the nerdy excitement he gets over flight perks. 

"Stop trying to be like Ming!"

ah hahahaha! This was in response to a message I had sent him, telling him that my sister's new boyfriend's name is Nick.  I love how he gets me, fully and loudly.  

"Perfect.  We'll have a book in a few months.  Primary target: teen sluts."

He had sent this to me when I told him that I started a secret Tumblr full of poems.  He's actually the most supportive husband outside of the Clinton couple.  He would actually market my book to teen sluts.  He would go to the mall.   

"Santy Clause don't visit the undertaker, kid."

This was in reference to a particularly serious conversation we were having about futures and getting what we want.  We were both pondering decisions, satisfaction, and how the hell we're gonna get everything we want out of this lifetime.  Doesn't seem like there are enough hours or beers, but we sure as hell can't be wastin' any more time. 

"You know the shit is real if the dude doesn't even have a tight physique."

This is basically the most profound romantic advice he has ever given me.  He's completely right.  When the shit is real, you find yourself tossing aside the checklist.  My gay knows my heart.  Come at me, bros. 

We Should Talk...

Hey guys,

Don't think I'm not aware of the 4 month blog silence.

I've been kinda uninspired by this medium.

This fall was pretty tumultuous and maybe I was too wrapped up in my nonsense to really put work into writing.

I've been cheating.

The truth is, I started a secret Tumblr page several months ago.  I don't know what my deal was, other than I just had some thoughts I wanted to say anonymously.  For the first time since I can remember, I've felt the need to keep myself and my thoughts a bit private or maybe just separate from myself?  I've been wanting to say things and process things but not necessarily under a snarky heading or with animated GIFs to accent.  So I started this secret Tumblr to post all of the things I find too annoying to let people I love read.  I'll let strangers find my rantings and yearnings obnoxious, eh?  The Tumblr is not linked to my name at all, although there is a non-identifying photo of me in its banner.  It is also entirely made of posts of poetry, or lists.  Some of it is really fun and silly, and other postings are heart breaking and wrought with way too much emotion to take responsibility for.

I hope someone out there reads it and finds it funny, sad, well-written, and annoying. 

 In that order.