IF its not cup size, I just don’t care, guys.
A list, for me. Because I need to get the swing back in my hips.
What do I love? What am I scared of? What do I love…
- I love the ellipses… the dangle, the possibility of surprise, and the more, more, more…
- I’m scared that I’m not doing enough for my kids, that my predilection to let them do stuff on their own is just laziness and that they’ll compare me so unfavorably to their dad who is so flawed, but ‘fun’.
- I love the ups and downs and whoopsadaisys. I wish there were more ups right now. But I’m in it for the longhaul, I am. Whoopsadaisy.
- I’m scared of a lot of things. I have these ‘great ideas’ but kind of want to give them to someone else to do. I have a hard time overcoming myself. Anyone want to come to a writing workshop at my house? and pay for it? Yeah, me too.
- I love fish and chips. with vinegar, and with ketchup. and tartar sauce. its been ages. AGES.
- I’m afraid I will never read all the books I have staring at me. The library is starting to smoke its anger at me. I just can’t stop. Anyone want to do a giant bookswap in July? My yard. Tables and tables. Bring yours.
- I love my body, I really do. Its pretty damn amazing. Its larger right now than it is meant to handle, and I’m adjusting to that very slowly. (Do not give me advice or pointers on this because I will seriously resent you and probably never forget it, either.)
- I’m afraid that I’ll never stop comparing myself to other people and intellectually I realize it is fruitless and entirely imaginary, but goddamn, I haven’t found the trick to stopping yet.
- I love my body, did I say that yet? Damn, she is a hot one.
- I’m afraid I won’t get used to being alone. I’m working on it.
I’m working on all of it. Taking it apart. Getting it together. All with jazz hands. (No.)