Being back in New Hampshire has been a mixed bag emotionally. I love the mountains, lakes, the small—but very significant—11 miles of Atlantic Ocean coastline, the fattening comfort food (we won’t talk about the weight I’ve gained being back in my home state), and goddamn do I love all the friggin’ trees—Autumn foliage or not. What I don’t like are… Read More
Between getting my memoir formatted, the front, back cover, and spine situated and ready for publishing, writing my memoir’s sequel, blogging, working, and keeping my sanity afloat, I read. I don’t read nearly as much as I’d like but when I do, I’m picky; and I don’t continue reading books that don’t grab my attention right away. Life’s too short… Read More
October 26th I woke with a major hangover. Like bad. I hadn’t felt this hungover since the last time I drank; which was on my stepdaughter’s birthday in June.
I haven’t had a drink in over 145 days. During my last alcohol-induced hangover, I puked once the husband and I got home. I had a tooth filling scheduled for the next day, and while sitting in the dentist’s chair—mouth gaping open, hoping to Beelzebub I didn’t puke all over the dentist—I realized I never wanted to feel that again.
I’m an INFJ. I’ve taken the test ad nauseum and that’s the type I’m pinned with; which is totally fine with me. The percentages of J and P do ebb and flow a bit, depending on the day, mood and circumstance. However! The letters remain, regardless of percentage.
You are always welcome to live out your heavy doubts and fleeting guilty pleasures in my dreams, anytime.
I’m tired of feeling like I have to fit in somewhere. I’m exhausted by these underhanded expectations, wedging me into some gross, cookie-cutter, societal niche; tired of not giving myself permission to be the beautifully dark soul that I am. Ever since I was small, I was drawn to the melancholy, the misunderstood, the macabre, the pain. I wanted to… Read More