On the upswing?

My crush invited me to his birthday party, but I'll be out of town.

Crush is a strong word. I fell asleep with tears in my eyes about my breakup last night. We are in "baby steps" mode, romantically.

And my body image is a disaster. I should probably just pay for the extra gym even if I'm not getting optimal value. Gym proximity will be an extra reason to go downtown to cowork, too, which is an extra reason to meal-prep healthy food. And then, gradually, I will be able to wear all the clothes I want to again, and they will look more like I want them to. And maybe then I can work on a healthier relationship with my body.

I certainly don't hate my body like magazines and media suggest many do. I try to think of it as a given - this is my body. It's a canvas, it's a tool... I am its steward, and it is my home, like the earth is my home. We are entwined, both separate and inseparable. Destined, not chosen, our journey together defined by chance more than choice. But of course, the relationship is not just emotional and spiritual, it is physical. Sometimes my body changes and that annoys me, despite the fact that I do have some agency over those changes. 

I invited my crush on my mushroom walk tomorrow.

I was going to write about writing, reading, word-craft and imagination or something along those lines. Some other time.

Hibernation

working thinking trying

arguing with myself

imagining impossibilities

paralyzed by largeness, smallness

to breathe for a moment

to lose a season

and after all

that's how

many

survive

Beauty - Sovereignty - Patience

 Once upon a time, my friend and I did a tarot reading about my love life. The framework resonated, and I ended up writing poems about two exes and two world-shifting crushes. The framework doesn't seem to apply as clearly to my most recent breakup. Maybe that is progress, or at least the attempt at it. Maybe I just need the emotional dust to settle, and I'll see it.

Typing these up here so that they don't get lost when I recycle the notebook that holds them, which is mostly Mossy Minds reading notes and some Morning Pages. 

III

The reason is beauty

Yes yes the curve of his hip, the crook of his teeth

 But more so everything else

The world turning from circle to sphere

Birds and rocks and joshua trees suddenly animated and speaking to me

Big horned sheep peeking at us before sunset

A car with a birthday, a house with a reputation

The problem is sovereignty 

He said life always feels like a mess

When I lamented that he'd never known me with stability

I should have know that after five yeras

I might not be the one depriving myself

That borrowing feels very different from sharing

No matter if I think it's a gift

The tool is patience

I often fall in love while I'm already in love

I always run past the finish line

Because I don't want the race to be over

I can wait without knowing what for

Without knowing if I'm moving or standing still

I

The reason is beauty

We created together

Structures that brought silliness to the world

We broke reality and rebuilt it in a bubble

When we broke up I was fine

But when I saw him afterwards we cried and got together again

Twice

Anal on acid to consummate our second reunion

His mind only pictures

My work all stories

His jobs wrenching, me quitting mine to cheat on him in Cuba

To tell him when I got back

To make up on a beach in the Grand Canyon

The problem is sovereignty

Our home together disappeared

He moved us to the mountains while I was across the ocean

The mining shack smelled like a hundred animals

I painted the walls, I learned the forest roads

The wheels on our cars kept losing purchase

The hills too steep, the gravel too loose

In a place he belonged and I did not

The tool is patience

First love is gets a number for a reason

Innocence and growth find themselves at odds

II

The reason is beauty

I stared into his almond eyes for four minutes

We had been saving each other - best for last

I pretended to be afraid of the dark so that he'd walk me home

The problem is sovereignty

His vanity is alien

We gave his girlfriends nicknames

My abandon was too strong

And when I moved on he missed it

Six years later he remembered how my mouth made him come through the antidepressants 

The tool is patience

He texted me on Thanksgiving that he loves me

9 months too late. 6 years too late.

Now I know that he chose not to give me his best

And I deserve more than he can offer 

IV

The reason is beauty

I hear sounds I wouldn't have heard

I seek puzzles I wouldn't have solved

I taste delights that belong more to him than me

I make beauty for us to share

We show each other new horizons

Blackberries on the highway

Fishing in the Yunnan mountains

His smile is the best I can imagine

His eyes are big without his glasses

The problem is sovereignty

I might offer too much. More than I get back and more than he wants.

He stays a mystery. I tell him so much but still surprise him. 

We don't see each other more than once a week but I think about him every day

The tool is patience

We have each changed so much

How I like him has changed, and will change more

There is no right answer

And I can rest in shades of grey

Only ___ can judge me.

 I turned ye olde blog private because I was in the running for a high-profile job. I didn't get it! Did they find the blog (because if anyone could, they could, wink wink), or was my aversion to bureaucracy palpable through the Zoom? I was ambivalent about the organization. It would have been so exciting, but in a very similar way to my current job. So, the impetus to change, to leave the devil I know, was less than it would have been if it had been a new world.

The experience made me value my current role more: recognizing what I take for granted, and how I limit myself, and how I could embrace my opportunity more fully. I didn't fight for the job, but I did take it seriously. It helped me see that I could step outside of the professional role I've been in for five years (with many changes) and have another adventure. 

Part of me wants the next thing to be in journalism or education, or art. My ex is passionate about education. We just broke up last week - a week ago right now, actually. I don't want to write too much about it. I think there wasn't anything either of us could have done. The chemistry wasn't there for me. I don't need a husband or a family. I need magic. I need personal expansiveness. I need inspiration. I thought I could find those things with him, but I lost them in myself as I invested in our relationship. In the end, we would have been a lovely family. But today, that's not what my heart asks for. Is this fair? Is this true? The truth is there were a number of overlapping and intersecting problems for us. That in itself was a problem: that I couldn't disentangle one challenge or block from the next, when I was with him. Where to live was a big one. And now that we're broken up, I'm pretty happy in my current spot. Rents spiking hasn't helped with the idea of trying out solo-living. I started reading old posts - themes from 2021 persist.

I mean, there was never a chance that I was going to write a whole blog post about work, right? Two more weeks of it until two weeks off! Lots to do, but also those two weeks will go very quickly, since I have one all-day event this week, a flying-day next week (two, if you count leaving in the evening on Friday), and two-ish staff retreat days. So basically one full week of work days. I may dabble in labor over the break. Strategic planning should be so fun, but when I try to do it during work hours I get distracted or stressed.

Back to what I might want for the next "thing." My play for the last two years has been oriented around creative workshops and parties. Turning that into work could be a big mistake. Going into politics, insanely, feels appealing too. I would learn a lot. Why not fail at something, next? I can't just keep being an improbable success! That's not sustainable.

Or I could write more, for real. I would learn from that. But would I stick to it, stick into it, sink like into sand suspended in water and breath through my skin?

Only way to find out is the hard way.

My upstairs landlord is rolling her walker over my ceiling. I am sorry she is so sick. And I am very sorry that it wakes me up most nights at least once. It used to be more often, 3-5 times a night, but I think I'm less anxious and emotionally repressed and she is less active.

On the couch today, after my reading club finished its discussions, my co-hosts and I discussed how bad it would be if a mildly risque party we hosted got back to our professional networks. I find it hard to take their concerns seriously. I have 356 (soon to be 357) entries on crimes, emotional turbulence, drugs, immaturity, and growth that are freely available on the internet. Sexy Earth Day is nothing.

I fell into a rabbit hole of rereading old posts. I am torn about sending my SF Bestie any part of the blog. It's such a behemoth, but she does love stories about Reed.

Bedtime comes! I spent about two hours scrolling on Youtube shorts this evening instead of reading, painting, and writing. This vibe-download is my penance. I'll tell a whole story someday again. Future Julia will read this and remember (almost) discussing David Graeber's "What's the Point if We Can't Have Fun?" And eating cookies and showing everyone the dandelion-root tea. The sunset over my computer screen, from the chair I used to call Dertron. Its fat red corduroy is covered by a gold blanked.

3rd Time's the Charm: Day 5 of COVID

I told my colleagues I was going to ease back into work today. Why?

I've gotten distracted by 5 different things since the last sentence. My sick brain has no sticking power. I wanted to start a new post because I learned, while rereading this blog, that I first heard "Y Lloraras Como Yo" back in 2020. Apparently, I had a tango music phase. My ex and I took a few lessons before the pandemic hit, but the post is from July 2020. Well, in this 2024-present tango phase, it was the first song that I had on repeat, that I learned all the words to. I didn't think of it as old ground, though.

So, five years of pandemic, and the virus has gotten me thrice (at least). I probably had asymptomatic cases in Mexico City, December 2023, and when I moved here, July 2023. Inshallah, this round wraps up without too much trouble. I'll take the next vaccine in May 2026 to try to break this summer habit.

Q1 2025

I told my new San Francisco best friend about this blog. It came up as we were painting our friendship jackets, somehow. Do I send it to her? Tonight, after printing Sexy Earth Day posters and writing my boyfriend's birthday card, I felt like this could be my medium. I am a bit under the weather with stress and allergies, though, so we'll see how far I go.

Maybe I didn't publish the 2024 New Year scheming because I was afraid to jinx my schemes. Well, I never got to the ceramics, but I did host two different versions of Golden Gatekeeping - the map idea (and one version twice actually, with different names) and a party where everyone brought takeout from their favorite restaurant as a picnic (with the original name-too good to waste). The Woman I admired from two posts ago is now my friend, and I'm writing this from the Art Club at her space. I go to Tango once a week or so, and sometimes more. I did eventually have a situationship, but not with that guy I hooked up with after Martuni's. And then in November, I met my now boyfriend!

I finished the Doulingo course on Chinese, and I'm working on Spanish now a bit. I hosted a handful of reading parties this summer, and logged 180 hours over 25 books this summer. I completely replaced by Age of Empires addiction with reading. 

Writing has been more uneven. I journaled a ton in early 2024, but stopped as the travel picked up. I went to Fair, but I was still recovering from COVID at the time. I didn't go to Burning Man - so I rolled over a week of vacation for this year and am forcing myself to take it.

It's a trip to think back to when I didn't know the Woman I Admire (what a great term for her - WIA). To when I hadn't had sex in more than a year. To when I was just starting to host parties - before I had a wall of posters and dozens of Partiful events. Before Mossy Minds was at least quarterly. My life here is so rich.

And yet, I'm only going to be home for 5 complete weeks of the next 12. Today the ice breaker at F&N was "what are you trying to fix?" I'm trying to fix my work-life balance. I've never felt like it was off by this much before. The travel is also interfering with my work work. I feel so lost, even at the height of my influence.

When I explain my job to people, they rarely express that they expected me to have that kind of role. Maybe it's because I'm a bit apologetic in my description. Certainly, no reader of this blog would imagine what I do now. That I spoke into the microphone at the Eisenhower Executive Office Building. That I shared a lunch table with Patti Poppe. Things I might consider meaningless in the context of this story of my social and emotional life. But maybe they mean more to me than I realize - imagine them going away... imagine a job where people didn't seek me out for my expertise, where legislators didn't ask me to write them bills... Now I've said way too much. I've spent five years immersed in this professional context. I am thinking about changing it–I am tired right now. But also, I must acknowledge how lucky I am, how much I still have to learn doing what I am doing.

So, this is me now. So solid at 31, yet still with my little questions and struggles. Still wanting things that are hard to get: a forever home, a true love; and also building things that take time to build: community, a career, art and language skills.

The nice thing about setting goals is that you can look back and be satisfied. I am usually so afraid of goals because I'm afraid of falling short. Let this be a lesson to me.

New Year Activities - written at the end of 2023 - why didn't I publish?

 The Artist's Way ends with an instruction to wish boldly, across many facets of life. One is told to write 10 wishes in the categories of Health, Possessions, Leisure, Relationships, Creativity, Career, and Spirituality. I kicked off my sabbatical/2nd half of the year journal with this exercise, though I added to the lists over time as I couldn't manage all 10 at once. I achieved a lot of my wishes - I was designing my new life, so the wishes helped direct me. 

I will do the same exercise in my new year journal (probably the yellow Portuguese one). But I want to start by mapping out all of the activities and creations I imagine desiring. Then I can turn them into wishes. Some already are. I can also decide which ones I want the most, and which are just passing fancies. As I consider joining a ceramics studio, that is a question. My friends remind me that I can quit. I remind myself that whatever money I spend on tools will not affect my life.

So - 

Ceramics - twice a week I go create. I will make gifts. I can make prizes... which means I can have contests... or bribe people to participate in things. Though V reminded me that just inviting people and letting them show up or not is the best way to do things.

Dance - Go to Mission Fusion, tango, or alternative once a week or more.

MGM continues on a roughly monthly basis

Craft parties - where everyone uses the same technique/supplies to make their own thing

• Accordion books? Of wishes?
• Valentines
• San Francisco city maps!!!! Like everyone starts with a rough outline of the city (maybe I trace a real map?) and then draws in their memories and homes and favorite hangs.
• Golden GATEKEEPING!!?!? LMAO!!!!
• And, they can be reused in the Valentine's event to map out a perfect day in the city. Or core memories together. God I'm good.
• Mom suggests printing out a big version and putting it up on a wall for everyone at a party to add to. 

Dates/Sex - hopefully find a friend with benefits or two for a few months. Maybe something serious after Burning Man. At the solstice parade that I went to everyone was supposed to write something that they wanted to let go of. I put something like "reluctance to express sexual desire." If I meet hot people, why not tell them (in a no-pressure flattering way that still clearly conveys interest.)

Learning - Grind on Chinese until I can have a conversation with YD's mom. Get deeper work knowledge. 

Teaching - onboard new people at work. Volunteer as a tutor of some kind? Homework helper?

Writing - more essays. Taking things from outline to draft to finished. Not just scribbling, scribbling, and more scribbling.

But also writing letters to friends. Always that.

Reading - Recoltes et Semailles - could I start a french reading group? is Recoltes et Semailles too intense?

Festivals - Fair and Burning Man again