It’s crazy how quickly we forget that we share this world, that there are animals and trees and we just happen to be stronger (sometimes), or at least more intelligent, and have shoved both aside to make room for our buildings. Case in point: walking to the store this AM, I heard a strange sound and I immediately reached for my phone, like what is this strange sound my phone is making? It was not my phone, y’all. IT WAS A BIRD. AN ACTUAL ALIVE BIRD JUST MAKING ITS BIRD SOUNDS, and my mind did not even think to go there. Okay so: stronger, more intelligent, and narcissistic to the point of comedy.
Remember that time I wrote for American Gods, the epic Starz show based on the Neil Gaiman novel? The premiere date has finally been set, and lovable nerds and mythology buffs and religious scholars all across the globe lept simultaneously into the air. Given that each episode has the scope of a movie, it took longer than anticipated to make, but its finally HERRRREEEE! Starz / April 30th. I can’t wait to watch. BELIEVE (In Gods, in that ominous White Buffalo, in me when I say, this show is going to be the best kind of weird, and in my episode, Kristen Chenoweth plays the Easter Goddess, so just….wait for THAT.)
At some point, I decided to stick these words at the end of the The Cake script:
END OF PLAY.
NOTE: This is the end of the play part of the play. Ideally, upon exiting the theater, the audience is surprised with an actual CAKE, waiting for them. The wonderfully terrible grocery store cake that you never let yourself eat. Ideally, everyone then stands around together, eating cake.
And I will NEVER. REGRET IT.
Truth is very elusive these days. I sense more and more that it is not, in fact, found on the internet, but instead inside of oneself. I need to begin a daily deep dive through my belly button, but in the meantime, here is a short list of things I’m absolutely certain of:
-I am alive (most of the time)
- There is goodness (sometimes)
- I love my husband and family
- I always drink slightly more wine than I should
- When I eat asparagus it makes my pee smell weird
- There is gravity
THIS MORNING I REALIZED I HAVE NOT ONE NOT TWO BUT FIVE BLUE AND WHITE STRIPED SHIRTS. OBVIOUSLY I LAID THEM ALL OUT ON MY BED TO TAKE A PICTURE OF THEM TO MAKE FUN OF MYSELF LATER.
AS I TOOK THE PICTURE, I RECEIVED THIS PROMOTIONAL EMAIL FROM WILLIAMS AND SONOMA:
WHAT DOES IT MEAN
AM I BEING WATCHED
WHAT AM I BEING TOLD TO DO
PROBABLY JUST BUY MORE BLUE AND WHITE SHIRTS
OKAY FINE RUSSIA WILL DO, BYE
After years of resistance, I finally gave in yesterday and tried my first meditation class. I’ve been resisting it because 1.) I do not like to sit still b.) I do not want to be a person who says things like, yesterday I tried my first meditation class. But while in Thailand and Hong Kong, I kept hearing about it and witnessing it, and then once home, my friend Alexis, who has a kindred spirit rapid fire brain, told me she’d started it and that it had completely changed her relationship to her own life — so I was like, FINE. Lord knows I can stand to quiet my head. It was a simple, intro, 30 minute class, and while the teacher kept telling us that we were trees (and also, I’ll admit, some pretty helpful stuff about what it is to be alive, the simplicity of that) I tried very, very hard to sit STILL, and to not judge my own thoughts, or the moments themselves. My thoughts were something like okay is it working I think maybe it’s working okay let me listen to what he’s saying and try and remember it wait what did he just say I already forgot I should really be writing this down okay maybe I’ll just breathe and pretend I am a tree did he say tree or maybe he said flower okay this is not working but I’m breathing and I think I’m still, am I still? Morrison would like this he would be so much better at this than me maybe I should bring him to a class we could do it together and maybe we could get tacos where are tacos what kind of tacos what kind of tortillas tacos hmmm I AM A TREE I AM A TREE. I’m going to take the fact that I basically sat still for 30 minutes as an accomplishment, and try a few more times. I think I see value in finding a way to transcend the whir of my thoughts, and just Be, not ten minutes ahead or two hours behind, just simply where I am, alive, and grateful for it.
Say what you want about Obama, about what he was actually able to accomplish during his eight years, about how he handled the economy and healthcare, about what he did to taxes, say all of those things, make an angry list, shout them at your television or into your bank account, but at least acknowledge this: while our new president conducts his first press conference like a shareholder meeting, and its contents could basically be boiled down into ‘Nanny nanny boo boo,’ pointing fingers and shifting blame and hiding behind arbitrary stacks of paper arranged carefully so as to scream meaning like the set of high school play, Obama was, and is, a unifier. Last night, he challenged all of us, liberal, conservative, in-between, to stop searching our feeds for information that affirms our own beliefs, but to seek facts. He asked us to consider each other’s points of view, and above all else, to remember our humanity. OH RIGHT, THAT.
Today, on the inside of my head is a Party City during a blowout Sale: I worry about basically everything all of the time, but there is usually one thing at the forefront of my worry that is taking up the most space. It’s usually something fairly irrational based off of imagined scenarios. Usually, at some point, this thing turns out to be completely unfounded, and I no longer have to worry about it, and so I move onto the next thing in line. I do not even pause to celebrate the fact that the thing I’ve been worrying about is actually totally okay. Why spend so much time worrying about something if I’m not even going to take a moment of PHEW! THAT THING IS FINE! I hereby vow NOT to stop worrying, because that would actually require me having part of my brain removed, but instead — when a worry gets resolved, I will have a little worry party in my head, in which I close my eyes and enjoy the tiniest moment of peace. THEN OF COURSE MOVE ON TO TSUNAMI’s.
WHAT’S THAT YOU SAY? ANOTHER MASS SHOOTING, INNOCENT PEOPLE DEAD FOR NO REASON, THIS TIME IN THE BAGGAGE CLAIM AREA OF AN AIRPORT WHICH HAS DEFINITELY CROSSED YOUR MIND WHEN TRAVELING, HOW VERY NOT SECURE THOSE AREAS ARE? I’LL JUST LOOK AT PICTURES OF THE TINY CHICKEN POT PIES I ATE IN HONG KONG INSTEAD