• Blame Canada,  My Brain On Crack

    Punishment

    Although I don’t particularly like them, not this brand anyway, I am eating organic corn tortillas. Microwaved, to take off that raw edge and render them nearly impossible to chew. Also they taste funny, possibly because the package has been in the fridge for weeks (partially opened, I found out) and there’s some white stuff on them that I told myself was “corn dust” and wasn’t the beginnings of mold and therefore isn’t going to make me sick, and I am bound and determined to finish every last tortilla in this package even though there isn’t anything like CHEESE to go with them because cheese is something I haven’t seen…

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  • My Brain On Crack

    It Might Be The Paint Fumes

    Irony = writing a post on the eco evils of latex paint while wielding a brush full of said paint with the other hand. Today Matthew decided it was the day to paint. I had mumbled some promise to him about “trim” and “steady hand” and couldn’t resist helping cover up that hideous orangey color with a color I find hard to describe. In a certain light it looks purplish. In another it looks more taupe. I have no idea what color it is, but it’s on three walls and is destined for several more. It looks modern and sleek, which is a good thing if that’s what you’re going…

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  • My Brain On Crack

    I Have Spam

    Spam makes you special. I have spam. I’m sitting here, still in my coat, because I have been cold for more days than I can count. Bundled up in bed at night with socks—I hate wearing socks in bed, it seems so wrong—and multiple layers including a cashmere sweater, next to a warm man who loves me, I lie awake every night for hours wondering if I will ever be warm again. The cold is inside me. I tell Matthew not to bother turning the heat up, because I know it will make no difference. The cold is inside. I’m wearing headphones right now, some string and superglue holding them…

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  • My Brain On Crack

    I Think I Forgot To Eat Today

    That would explain a LOT. However, I did meditate. And I worked and wrote and wrote and worked. My eyes are still bleeding. And I cried a little and had a shower and put makeup on. And wore clothes. And I am getting used to one space after-a-period rather than the years and years of two spaces. if I can unlearn the two-space thing I may actually learn to type one of these days. Oh, you haven’t seen me type, have you? I understand it’s “interesting.” It makes a lot of noise. And now I know why three keys on my laptop are now nearly obliterated; I don’t keep my…

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  • My Brain On Crack

    Eating At Home, Because That’s Where My Heart Is

    Being on the road amplifies lots of things. Small things can become larger. Large things seem untenable and tumultuous. But the worst may be the eating. I’m well aware of my food issues. I have struggled with food seemingly all my life, food and my feelings about food and all that goes with it, and it’s weird that it came yet again to the forefront during this last trip. [Before I go on, I need to interject that weeks before we left on this trip I knew it would be a hugely transforming event. I just didn’t know what the transformation would be. Still don’t, but things become more clear…

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  • Blame Canada

    The Other Shoe Is Dropping

    When I crossed the border into Canada in August, I had an uneasy feeling. No, “uneasy” doesn’t even begin to describe the deep-seated FEAR and sense of FOREBODING I had. After all, there I was with my car full of everything I owned, and as far as official-Canada was concerned I was there to be a tourist. Pretty fishy. Last night Matthew and I returned from California and Oregon. I knew the border thing would come up again. Our plan these past several months was to at some point be able to show Canada the seriousness of our relationship and apply for me to be a permanent resident here. I…

  • Blame Canada,  Send in the Clones

    Resurfacing

    Yes, I’ve been busy. I’ve been doing this. And I’ve been doing this. And also I’ve been spending hours a day writing for the upcoming supersecret website I can’t tell you about yet. Except that it’s related to this one. Also, I haven’t been at home for awhile. Matthew and I have been traveling. Yay for traveling. *Cough*. I went to a spiritual workshop thing, where I manned the recording device. Like they really needed someone to do that (push “record,” push “stop” at the appropriate times—really difficult and oh so technical), but I was grateful to be there and I am sure I got something out of it. Not…

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