The Daily Gazette

3/27/2023

Tonight’s fortune cookie reads: “How can you have a beautiful ending without making beautiful mistakes”

Given that half my adult life has been a big mistake-there had better be one %#@^*&! stunningly magnificent Happily Ever After in my future, or else.

3/1/2023

I have a birthday coming up imminently. I’m really not feeling it this year. It was an overly eventful trip around the sun, and is the beginning of the end of the last year of my thirties. I could (and should) be optimistic and proclaim I will peak in my forties; that we will finally usher in that “Roaring Twenties” era post-pandemic I’ve been hoping for and talking about.

But instead I feel very, very tired. I’m hoping for a kinder year; for the Universe to grant us some grace. I think I speak for us all when I say we have been through a lot.

AT LEAST let’s see about us getting some decent Doctor Who again.

2/20/2023 – What a Way to Run a Railroad

I’ve been very busy of late taking care of business, cleaning house, rearranging, and more retail therapy. I’ve also been trying to build new routines (including–but not limited to–gua sha). Laugh it up, fuzzball–I’ve got a lot of lymph, and it’s time to de-puff.

Finally managed to get rid of the spare furniture leaning up against the walls, so I’ve got that going for me. Acquired a new pair of pink pleather leggings (a true wardrobe staple). I finished yet another Clarathon (see Run, You Clever Girl). Learned how to cook lamb and seafood paella…although I discovered last week that I really do not enjoy goat. So, for anyone who is keeping track of strange, exotic foods Mandy is willing to eat vs. not: alligator and escargot make the cut, tripe and goat do not.

A combination of friends, girl’s night outs, booze, the puppy, and disco’s greatest hits are getting me through the days while I endlessly plug away at the never-ending list of things to do, which today included plunging the kitchen sink in an attempt to clear the drains so the dishwasher will run properly again.

I still hate doing dishes.

There’s a lot of potential on the horizon, but still a lot of mindfuckery to get past. Betrayal. Narcissists. I think narcissists should be branded like cattle. It would save us all a lot of trouble.

1/30/2023 – Ay Caramba

I’ve been a little overwhelmed lately, to say the least. Two weeks ago, I went to Old Brick Furniture on a whim and spent $2000 on a new couch and fancy-shmancy upholstered bed frame. My “Bridgerton Bed,” I’m calling it. Because a healthy dose of retail therapy and foolhardy optimism is essential to emotional wellbeing. Unfortunately, the old furniture has not been removed yet, so I have a queen-sized, 13-year-old, dilapidated metal bedframe leaning up against the wall, and a full-sized extra sofa squeezed into a corner, but ah well. Today I brought a beer into the shower with me. As I write this, it is midnight on a worknight and I am watching 90210 reruns on Pluto TV.

I am deeply unwell.

Or…am I becoming the best version of myself?

1/5/2023

Things I’ve learned about myself in the last 2 weeks:

I am much stronger, and have more courage under fire, than I ever gave myself credit for.
I discovered just today that in certain arenas, I am still a colossal chickenshit.
I HATE doing dishes. Like–I really, really, REALLY hate.doing.dishes.

1/3/2023 – Happy New Year?

This year’s resolutions include 1) Staying alive and 2) Not killing anyone else. That second piece is going to be particularly difficult. Will update later.

Also, not a resolution, but a goal: your host needs to get on the treadmill, ASAP. Time to get my ass in gear and start exercising regularly. For realsies this time.