Nowhere is waiting more irritating than in line. 

Not only are you mentally in wait for something, but physically, too. You can literally see your goal. The destination is right there. 

So what do we do when we know we must have something requiring a queue?

1. Escape the wait and forget what you want, eliminating irritation but also the joy of your reward.

2. Endure the wait, all the while staring at the front of the line, tapping your foot, looking around — torture.

3. Or, enjoy the wait. As much as you can. Accept the present as is. 

Number 3 is what several thousand of us did last weekend, in the cold and rain, for anywhere from 2-12 hours… to get into a club.

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I went on a date with a Dutch guy the other week. 

Before you ask: I’m on a mission to find someone who will change my mind about Dutch guys. (More on this at another time.)

But he was cool. Smart. A director. When he asked about my acting and I told him that I was too interested in too many other things to give it 100% at the moment, he replied:

“You’re a multipotentialite.”

I did not think this was a word. But it is. New favorite self-descriptor unlocked.

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It’s the weirdest week of the year.

The holiday season is over. The new year not yet begun. Much deserved time off work for many… who spend it sitting on their couches, bored. One thing’s for sure: nobody else is writing their blogs or newsletters this week. Except me.

Do I deserve an award for muddling through The In-Between Days? No. But I will take the opportunity to love myself anyhow.

I hope this inspires you to do the same.

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The silence is deafening. I stare at a dark screen with nothing to say. I cannot even think of the next sentence. 

5 minutes pass of staring into space. 

I return to the screen. Still nothing. This is what I call “fishbowl brain”. 

Days like this happen. But do I fight against the nothingness? Or do I let it be and try again tomorrow? 

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Coming to you live from Newark Liberty International Airport Terminal B. (A duly deserved renovation.) Am I excited to be here? That is the question. 

I don’t hate the airport like some people do. I don’t love it either. People who say they love the airport are lying.

It’s the idea of where you’re flying.

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Stream of consciousness. 10 minutes. Virtual format because I don’t want to have to deal with transcribing my horrific handwriting into Google Docs after the fact.

If you’ve ever read The Artist’s Way, you know what I’m doing here. I just need to stop thinking so much.

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“This moment is the best moment.” 

Says the rubber bracelet given to me by a stranger in Costa Rica earlier this year. In March.

I haven’t taken it off since.

But I don’t really need the bracelet. I know what it says. It’s just comforting to have a physical reminder of that thing we all recognize as true but is still so hard to grasp: the current moment is literally the only thing that is real. 

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I’m kind of obsessed with understanding people. Mostly, with understanding myself. I crave logic and order in my experiences. In my thoughts. And especially, in my feelings.

Silly girl.

Sometimes I really do make myself laugh.

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My cat died last week.

We put her to sleep because she had been sick for many years, and finally went straight into renal failure. She was 20 years old. I was 5 when I named her. Trapeze. Because she was lithe af. Small, nimble, quiet.

She was a terrible cat. This is her eulogy.

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People who don’t like their own birthday are running away from something.

“Attention.” They always say.

I don’t understand this personally — I love my birthday almost as much as I love attention — but whatever, fine.

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