Snapshots of Lovelessness

Picture this: I’m sitting at a table just outside the action in a bar in Darling Harbour, drunk on one too-expensive vodka soda and one-too-many cups of pregame goon. My head’s spinning. I rest it on my hand to prevent it from swiveling off my neck.

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Plans in the Works

On the travel front, I’ve been packing (badly) for an upcoming trip to Bermuda! If I’m being perfectly honest, as much as I love doing the laid-back island vacation thing, I’m actually a bit stressed about this one. And believe me, I know it’s wrong to complain about spending a week lounging on pink-sand beaches. I get it. I do.

But there’s this little thing called the Bermuda Triangle that I am not too keen on experiencing!!! Now would be a very inconvenient time for my plane to go missing, because I’ve got a lot of half-baked plans in the works, and these days I’m actually pretty stoked about not dying.

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Decorating my work desk: an unexpected package for the blues

No one act of kindness will bring us peace on earth, and no one boxful of office supplies will cure your friend’s depression. But the gift my friend gave me was more than just a Get Well Soon card in blue wrapping paper. It was a reminder that life is to be appreciated for what it is — even the temporary phases of transition.

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Getting to Know Me

When my non-depressed self comes back into my life as if nothing has happened, it feels disingenuous. She tries to connect with me by asking me playful questions like, “So, how’s the love life?” It’s a universal icebreaker, a way for her to learn something juicy about my life. But the appropriate response doesn’t exist for a person whose romantic undertakings have been abysmal. The dating pool is bleak enough to depress a normal person and dating while depressed is another enterprise altogether.

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Baby’s First Protest

The January 21, 2017 March on Lansing marked my first experience protesting. I showed up without a sign, without a hat, and without a clue what to expect. I worried I’d feel out of place, that there’d be chanting and I wouldn’t know the words, that I’d be questioned about my motives and wouldn’t have a strong enough political education to know how to explain what I was doing there–none of that happened.

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Staying Resolute in 2017

I’m announcing it so I can be held fully accountable: my New Year’s resolution is to read a book every week.

We’re more than halfway through January, which means we’re just reaching the point where almost half of New Year’s resolutioners lose their resolve. I’ve read a lot of advice on how to keep your 2017 resolution, but there are three tips I found especially helpful, so I’m condensing them here.

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Salon Etiquette

I wondered then, not for the first time, if Amy hated me. Why couldn’t I be more like Barb at the chair next to me who knew exactly which questions were appropriate to ask her stylist about her bunions? For that matter, why didn’t I just ask Amy a damn question?

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A Young Girl and the Sea

The first memory I have of stealing a word was when I was ten years old.

It came from a brochure crammed in the pocket behind the driver’s seat in a shuttle bus that was taking my family to a beachfront hotel. “Waves crash rhythmically upon the sandy shoreline,” it advertised. I plucked the word from the page and I tucked the brochure back into its pocket.

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Bikes and Iced Lattes

My concert tee was tucked neatly into my destroyed jean shorts and my right leg was tattooed with bike chain grease. With my iced beverage in my left hand and my handlebars controlled coolly in the right, it occurred to me that I couldn’t look more like a middle schooler if I tried.

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I’m not very good at getting started.

In fact, I’ve gotten up and done four unnecessary tasks since typing that first sentence. Two of those tasks were cups of coffee and two were the resulting bathroom breaks.

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