10.21.2019

Asking the Big Questions.



Recently I have decided to have a revival with nail polish. Historically, painting my nails has never been a huge thing for me because:

a)     It’s hard
b)    I’m lazy
c)     I’m too cheap to pay someone to do it because I can do it myself but I won’t because it’s hard
d)    It chips and that is so annoying and then people judge me for not taking it off for an additional two to six months

So that is my history but ALSO I’ve just recently realized cuticles. What the hell are they? By that I mean what the hell is their purpose? I know I could look this up on the world wide web or potentially ask anybody over the age of twelve, but I would rather just pose the question here knowing that I will never get a response. Since I have been painting my nails, they (my cuticles) are far more obvious. I either have to paint around them which looks terrible or I have to paint over them which looks terrible. I have attempted to remove them by scraping at them which is the worst. But I am not letting ANY of this hold me back.

I’m about to type something that may sound braggy but it’s not because ew - My cuticles are really strong. Are everyone’s? I really have never talked about this out loud. All I know is that whenever I eat seaweed, I visualize my hair and nails growing, prolifically, like a goddamn super power. As an aside, I said this to a date at a sushi restaurant last summer and consequently we never spoke again. But anyway, I wonder if my ocean-rich diet affects my cuticle health.

I’m just trying to step up my game people. I live in a town where you can really let yourself go if you’re not careful. Last month I decided to pay attention to how many people were randomly barefoot. I want to mention that I do not live anywhere near a beach. I counted nine in one day. NINE. I live in a city and it was a Wednesday. I realize the day of the week is probably inconsequential, but I really want y’all to have as much context as possible.

Stop putting my life in danger by forcing me to photo document your shit while sitting behind the wheel of my car.

Trying to enjoy a nice show at the wine bar but then stop it.


I didn’t photo document them all, but you get the point.

I will admit, however, that even though I am trying to counterbalance the dirty of my city with nail polish, the randomness of people does delight me. Sometimes I will just glance through my phone notes to look for a recipe or a to do list and I will find reminders that I sent to myself like these:

May 12, 2018 at 3:18PM
What is that coming out of that man’s purse. OhmygodIthinkitisananimal.
May 12, 2018 at 3:21PM
Dear god, it is a white squirrel. He has smuggled a white squirrel from some far away land and it now lives in his purse.

I am glad that I make notes to myself about these happenings, because I truly remember none of them, none of them at all. 

I had a friend in town over the summer and I wanted her to have the full Asheville experience while here – mountains, rivers, music, microbrews, and mildly uncomfortable interactions with strangers. I brought her to one of my fave places, Crow and Quill, which is an establishment decorated in dead flowers, taxidermy, and shadows. We ordered a couple of brilliantly prepared cocktails and settled in to listen to the jazz band that was performing. They were pretty good, but one couldn’t help but be distracted by the lead musician who was making a lot of really hard eye contact and blowing kisses. We thought we might leave after set break, but it was pouring to the point that the streets had been engulfed in a flash flood and we decided we should wait a little longer at the bar. We sat back down and what do you know, that lead musician came right over for a bit of conversation.

He started by reflecting on his younger days in Asheville when he lived with his girlfriend in an apartment downtown with no plumbing. (Side note: I am 100% sure that none of his story is true.) During the summer months, they (he and his girlfriend) were really lucky because they could go outside and “catch a shower” when the gutters leaked. He loved a good flood like the one we were experiencing tonight. Then, he found out my friend was visiting from Berlin, so he changed gears and started hitting on her in elusive German, full of pregnant pauses and weird catch phrases. After that, he decided it would be a good idea to bring up the topic of hovercrafts in Germany. A few minutes into the hovercraft discussion I thought it would be best to bring out my pendulum that I always carry in my purse and start swinging it before his eyes without saying anything about it. He wrapped up his conversation quickly and walked away and I turned to my friend and said, “You have to know how to out crazy a crazy person to truly be free.”

I take my ammunition of nail polish and pendulum and walk confidently in this world my friends. What makes you free?




9.10.2019

My Judgment Blog


Guys, I’m seriously so judgmental with no right to be. When I think about myself overall, I’m usually like, “Yeah, I’m pretty chill. I’m pretty cool.” But then, THEN, I realize I’m kind of a dick.

For instance, I was in an Uber the other night and judged the shit out of my driver, Joshua. I feel so bad upon reflection. 90% of the interaction was in my head, but still.

Here is what happened:
1)    My initial impression was, “Man bun. Stop it.”
2)    Then, he started driving a way home that I wouldn’t have taken, and I thought to myself, “Wrong.”
3)    After that I verbally questioned the music he was playing. He said it was rainbow kitten vomit or some shit and I was like, “Turn it off.” (In my head).
4)    THEN my friend asked him if anyone had ever vomited in his car (the music probably inspired the question) and Joshua started yapping about some deep essential oil bullshit that keeps people from puking or that covers up the smell after the fact or what not
5)    and this prompted actual words from me which were all, “Hold up. That is literally the most Asheville shit I have ever heard. How long have you been here?” (I always sound like I am making an accusation when I ask how long someone has lived here) Joshua informed me that he had arrived approximately 9 months ago.
6)    Then I followed up with the question “Why did you come?” And he told me he was trying to make it here because he feels he has finally found his people who understand the power of crystals and herbalism and what not and
7)    I was all, “You’re the people who clog up my internet dating feed making it impossible to find someone who doesn’t live in a van by the river and I guarantee you have never seen The Never Ending Story and we have nothing in common!” (in my head).

And that’s why I am a dick. Because Joshua is actually probably a nice person who just happens to like man buns. He HAS found his people here and the thing is, I used to really like crystals too. It is possible that I was Joshua’s people for an extended period of my life. Just the other day, a colleague referred a patron to me when they were asking about the symbolism of rose quartz because he knew that I would know the answer offhand (gentle kindness especially in reference to your inner child). If we are going for full disclosure here (and we always are) I am going to admit that crystals were only a small fraction of my past. I was one of those girls who hula hoop danced at music festivals. I made my own clothing with random scraps of mildewed materials found in a garbage bag in my parents’ basement. I have attended retreats in ashrams, been to countless Buddhist meditation sessions, learned to chant with my entire mind, body, and soul, and for an entire year of my life I went to a Deeksha group in someone’s living room every Monday where people would transmit energy through the power of touch to one another. I’m not even going to get into the array of dietary cleanses, lack of showering, or peace rallying that went on over the years. Despite all of this, I find myself judging other people who care about that kind of stuff. Why?

It’s not like I am some “normal” US citizen at this juncture in life. I have just changed out my old weird for new weird. (Things I am obsessed with) I’m trying to be reflective on this type of stuff because I kind of think it is the basis for why our country is struggling so much. This lack of empathy for people who are really not that different from you – who could actually be a direct reflection of your past self if you are being honest – is what is creating an excessive divide. I’m not necessarily trying to get all deep and political here, but I also kind of am. We spend so much time hating on people who have different perspectives than us, behavior that is highlighted by our elected officials in office, that we forget to notice how much we have in common. I have been lucky enough to visit and live in lots of different places on this planet and while everything is not always perfect and some of the time life is really terrifying, I have been taken care of by strangers again and again. Trusting that people are inherently good and that things will work out has helped tremendously. I may view life through a different lens than a lot of my neighbors, but that doesn’t mean that they are bad people - and I try with all my heart not to villainize them with contempt. There are rapists and murderers and rapist-murderers out there who should totally be locked up forever, but let’s keep things in perspective here people.

I am done with my soapbox, but in conclusion: I’m trying to love the Joshuas and the conservatives and whomever else to improve my little corner of the world - wish me luck!