Currently...

Watching: Rewatching Mad Men so I can catch up on the last couple of seasons. I stopped watching a couple episodes into the third season, I think. And that was awhile back, so rewatching is necessary so I can remember everything that's happened thus far. I'm almost done with the second season, which is painful to watch mostly because I fucking HATE Bobbie Barrett, and she won't go awayyyy! Plus there are other excruciating moments that are hard to watch...Mad Men always tip-toes on the line that separates it from being completely horrifying.

Listening to: The Show Your Bones album by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, lots of Regina Spektor, some Kate Nash, a little Rufus Wainwright, with bits of the Next to Normal soundtrack thrown in.

Planning: Not much, really. Winter Break is coming up, and the only thing I have planned (besides going home for Christmas) is to straighten up my apartment and do a ton of laundry.

Thinking about: How I've been so completely fucked over, it's not even funny. And I just let it all happen...I'm so easy to toss aside because I'm too nice. I can't really go into further detail, but needless to say--it feels horrible.

Reading: I just finished re-reading White Oleander by Janet Fitch, which is one of my favorite books EVER. I've re-read it once a year since I was fifteen, it's that incredible. Now I'm between books, which I hate. I've been poking around in Writing Down the Bones by Natalie Goldberg, another one of my favorite books. I'm thinking of re-reading The Bell Jar or picking up where I left off in Sylvia Plath's diaries...although maybe that's not a good idea since it's all very triggering. But I'm just that masochistic, I guess.

Making me happy: Echhh, not much. :/ If I had to choose, I'd say definitely the supercute customer at work that I have a crush on (never going to happen, but a girl can dream). And my Amazon wish list for Christmas. It's full of books about dance and movement therapy and whatnot.

Desert Girl

This came from the following prompt from Old Friend From Far Away: The Practice of Writing Memoir by Natalie Goldberg: "We all come from someplace. Where did you come from? How did you escape? Go for ten."

I come from the desert. I'm a lifelong desert girl. My body was formed in dry heat, my bones shaped from saguaro skeletons. I can walk through 110 degree heat; heat so oppressive that it practically suffocates you. I'm a desert girl--the dry heat is second nature to me. I often feel like a saguaro, warding off outsiders with sharp spines all over my body. Get away from me. I soak up whatever I can when I get it, much like saguaros soak up rainwater. I survive on it for months. Give me all you have to give, I'll thrive on whatever you have.

I haven't escaped the desert yet, I've only migrated from one part to another. I know one day I will. I'll leave the dry heat for the sizzling humidity of summers in New York. But no matter where I go, I'll always have the desert. It's in my body, my bones, my marrow, my blood. It's all over my skin. It's in my nature. I'll always be a desert girl, even in snowy New York winters.

Give me all you have to give.


Me.

Uneasy in T-Town

I came down to Tucson today for Father's Day, and am going right back up tomorrow since I have some doctors appointments to go to.

There's something about being in Tucson that makes me feel really uneasy. I don't know why. Maybe it's because every time I come back here, even for a short visit, I feel like I'm moving backwards. I have a life in Phoenix now. And every time I'm in Tucson, I miss my Phoenix life. I love Tucson and always will; I was never one of those people who are all bitter about having to live here and can't wait to leave, blah blah blah. But for some reason, I no longer feel comfortable here. It's "home" but it doesn't really feel like home anymore.

The nostalgic part of me feels sad about that. But the part of me that wants big things and looks toward the future is relieved that I feel more at home in Phoenix than I do in Tucson. Because maybe if I feel at home in Phoenix, maybe one day I'll feel at home in New York or Tel Aviv or London or Dublin or Edinburgh; wherever I end up. It makes me feel like even though I get fiercely attached to everything, I'll eventually be able to move forward. That's a very comforting thought.