my sister said anne hathaway has had plastic surgery, and honestly it never crosses my mind to even consider that anyone gets these? i assume everyone looks great due to facials, exercise, good living, potions, vitamins, massage, those insane light masks, lasers, blah blah blah. but it all feels so futile to me? i mean we all get old and it’s just the truth. it’s a never ending journey and getting old is just part of it and why not just embrace it and go with it? not that that’s easy — i still look at my face and feel like a stranger looking at an old stranger. ok now i’m going to go watch mad max #2.
i waited so long to apply for a library job in austin because i thought i would instantly get it? i was smoking straight crack. i think i was like, i’m a shoo-in, and of course, that is not exactly the case. applied quickly (perhaps sloppily) and no word back. i am not taking it personally (heh) (i am) because it’s a huge city system and i’ve been out of the market for awhile and i don’t live there and i’m kind of general good (rather than focused) but…man, it’s been a good lesson AND a bit humbling and a good reminder that it will take awhile (forever?) to crack the system.
dude, i was looking at instagram and got sucked into looking at someone’s profile (this is why i don’t have my own personal account, because it would always send me, in a bad way) and saw that there was this beautiful going away party for someone, who i only know tangentially, and ALL these people were there, and while i didn’t feel excluded, it did make me feel…hidden. which i am (by choice??? by energy limits choice????) but when did i stop wanting to reach out? when did i start hiding? the thing is — i have been through so much in these past few years [ed note: wait, lol, WHAT, i mean in the scheme of things, NO, not exactly, but…in a way?] — quitting ballroom, slogging through grad school, being so broke, hustling, getting a library job during COVID, still going to grad school, knowing nothing, having to prove myself, meanwhile so many friends moving away, so that it was just me and mostly randoms. the past six years have been such a humbling time (see “dreams are not easy”), and it seems to have evaporated all that…curiosity in me? it was DEFINITELY worth it, but it’s also sort of sad. or stupid. both. how does one keep trying, on top of trying so hard with all the other shit? and also when does all the trying get to stop? does that mean we’re dead if we’re not trying all the time? WHATEVER IT’S SO STUPID
just got back from moving mom into her new assisted living, and need to write my notes to my read marfa kids, but i’m zonked and just feel like watching moonstruck (which i started with my parents last night, which was THE coziest watch). i’m happy/sad to be home, thinking about all the loose ends to tie up with my mom, discovered a crack in my phone over the weekend (wth), thinking about what i did wrong on my APL app, should i bail on being a children’s librarian and go for any librarian job, thinking about the beautiful rain in houston, how fluffy my hair got, how much FOOD (all caps) we ate, how the rain forced them to cancel our neil young show, how there’s no basketball on tonight, how good cher is in moonstruck, the endless change in our lives, in the city, in everything we do. maybe this is a middle age thing? because i don’t remember it being as heavy in the past, like i could float on a current and not worry too much (although of course i was constantly worrying then, too — about friends, about being single, about getting good grades, about being good at work, you name it). i know we all know that change is the only constant but SERIOUSLY it IS the only constant and there’s got to be something in embracing that. anyway i started this post with something in mind but now i can’t think of what it was.
View from my dad’s office on a rainy Houston day, May 2024
