oh river.

i can’t afford this.

i can’t even begin to tell you how good it feels to be canning again. i live for summer now. its the only good thing about this season. standing in a hot kitchen over an even hotter stove. boiling a mixture of lemon and ginger. or a pot of relish reeking of vinegar. i love this. and have pictures to show you.

uh. so happy.

and jesus, i love anna thompson.

sitting beside the window in my house. its open. so is the front door. berlin making his way in and out. i love the lighting today. its ominous. and really cozy. there is a breeze that is waking the hair on my arm. this is such a tease. this taste of fall. i want to bring my boots out. i found the match to my glove. i need a bike pump.

i havent been feeling well. depleted. the doctors say. western. and eastern. not a coincidence that other things are depleted in my life as well. does this all happen at the same time. for some reason. to take you as low as you can. so you can hear what you really need. or what the depths of your gut are whispering.

i hear you. i hear what you need. i heard what you needed.

my blood is healthy.

my nerves are healthy.

then why the fuck is my head spinning.

like i dont know. of course i know. i have a heavy lap. and weighted feet. that want to run. but are being forced to take small, slow, observant steps forward.

working from home. at the kitchen table.

i need to open my office. and work there. that feels like a real step in this process. in the foundation of this project. a serious door to open. ill conquer that next week. don’t worry.. ill let you in too.

its been twice this week. while waiting tables. that this post is motivated from.

this conversation has happened twice this week:

“do you go to school here?”

me: “no, i graduated from vcu in richmond, va. and then moved here after graduating.”

“looks like that degree is really being put to good use.”

FUCK YOU

this has happened twice. and i cant tell you how upsetting it is for me to hear this. the first time was shrugged off. hey, this old guy is an asshole and has no idea how to socialize in the real world. but the second time brought tears to my eyes. and made me look at my hands. that were being scolded by his hot plate of food. that frankly i wanted to smear all over his face. i really can’t believe a lot of things people say to servers. but this is so inappropriate. so hurtful. and so fucking rude.

i am a waitress. 

have been for 10 years.

and im really happy.

my response to the older man the second time:

“i do a lot of other things besides serve people like you breakfast.”

(with tears in my eyes)

AIN’T THAT THE TRUTH!

have had some long weeks. longer days. and shorter nights of sleep. im tired. there is mascara smeared across my left eye. sleep marks on my right shoulder. i usually sleep on my left. maybe i was just looking for you on the other side. which is where you will be. soon. patience is a bitch. and im learning the grace of it. the perfection of timing. and the ease of shrugging your shoulders. this time is precious. these nights of meditation. stretching. candles. writing. sounds cheesy maybe to you. but to me, its the best dessert i have ever had. its peaceful. and its mine. ive never gotten this opportunity to learn what calms me. what i need at night. what i need to wake up hearing.

so much closer to where i want to be.

a little bit closer to what i want to be.

really big day for me.

one amazing little key put into my palm. late this afternoon. in the 91 degree heat. i sat in my truck. not noticing the vinyl burning my thighs. i didnt care. about the thigh. or my elbow that hit the steering wheel on my way in. or the sweat beading between my breasts. and under my bangs. i breathed in. in. in. and out.

i cant believe this is my life on days like today.

i cant believe the power of intention.

manifestation.

heart.

this is the beginning.

this is the seed.

i cant wait to tell you all about it.