for my best friend, with whom i am well pleased

both my bff and i turn 50 this year and, in what will come as little to no surprise to anyone who knows me, i'm making a big deal about it.

i remember when it felt like neither one of us was gonna make it this far. when we kept hitting brick wall after brick wall and feeling like nothing we did was working. when we really couldn't see the point of continuing to try. 

but we did, and we're here, and when this goes live, i'll be celebrating my bff's birthday. i am the excited. 

i'm excited b/c i am so ridiculously glad we're still in each other's lives after all these years. decades, really. our friendship is old enough to run for president (and maybe it should, given *gestures vaguely* current events). 

i'm so glad we still show up for and with each other. i'm glad that we're willing to ask questions and attempt to be ok with the answers, even the ones we don't like. i'm glad that the fact that we've never lived in the same city has never stopped us from being close. i'm glad that we're so different in so many ways and yet sometimes we're so alike that it's scary. i'm glad you're slightly more petty than i am and i'm also glad you don't unleash your petty as often as you could or should, because then i'd have to be petty right along with you and the streets are not ready. 

i'm glad that i pushed you just enough to celebrate today. you deserve this and so much more. 

i'm glad i get to wish you a lifetime of abundance. of ease. of grace. of curiosity. of hope. of love. of knowing that who and what you are will always be more than enough. 

happy birthday. love you. mean it. 💜

still grieving after all these years...

hey boos hey. long time no type, etc.

i'm about midway through my annual season of grief due to birthdays and death anniversaries. not gonna lie, this grief has stronger hands and is landing more punches in 2026 so far than it has in previous years and your girl is feeling it.

past me sometimes has good ideas, which means i've been sorta kinda managing to keep myself busy so i don't have as many opportunities to sob and/or scream into the void. however! crying in the shower? definitely still a thing. sobbing myself to sleep? yup. waking up crying because something in a dream reminded me of a dearly departed one? absolutely.

this happens every year and yet i still manage to be fucking gobsmacked by the first wave of grief in february, like i didn't know it was coming. to be fair, i did start this month with three concerts in as many evenings and other social obligations that kept me busy, but when i finally realized what was happening, the shutdown was almost immediate.

sometimes i forget how challenging it can be to deal with my own personal grief while adulting, particularly during these "why must everything be so fucking unprecedented?!?" times. there's so much happening every goddamn day. i can barely catch up on the news without crying tears of sadness and/or anger. and then i remember that lori's not here, and neither is james, and my parents are both gone, and the fact that they all died years apart and yet within weeks of each other fucks me up every single time. it's not fair and it actually physically hurts as i'm typing right now. stupid unsexy grief.

so yeah, if you see me out in the streets and i don't seem like my usual or normal self, it's because i'm not. i'm trying to do that thing where i actually acknowledge how i'm feeling, let myself feel all the things instead of bottling them up, and allowing myself to be vulnerable or whatever. my therapist would be proud but thanks, i hate it. i'm all about loving myself and others out loud, but this particular form of self-care? zero stars. do not recommend. 

if you don't see me out in the streets with my usual or normal frequency, it's because i know i need to attempt to take a break and sit the fuck down somewhere so i don't push myself past my breaking point, emotionally and/or physically. also sometimes it's because i just want/need to be at home and enjoy my solitude and quiet, especially after being outside and around people. i mean, have you met people? the worst.

this is going live on what would've been my father's 93rd birthday. i cannot believe it's been 29 years since i last saw him alive. what in the actual entire fuck. i can barely make a grocery list without breaking down these days b/c i can still see him, clear as day, sitting down at the kitchen table with the sales papers and mapping out what he was gonna buy from which store based on what was on sale. me? the sales papers are digital now and i do the majority of my grocery shopping at one store, but otherwise? o hai, it me. he'd be pitching a fit about groceries being this damn high even with whatever coupons/discount codes he had, but then he'd be proud about snagging a good deal on something, and i'm the same way.

but here i am. trying to lean more into loving myself and others out loud. to embracing whimsy and other things that make me happy because imagine being an unwhimsical ass bitch. ¿en esta economia? could not and will not be me as long as i have anything to say or do about it. 

i just wish grieving wasn't such a big part of living.

love y'all. mean it.