Hello beauties, I am so sorry that I have been such a lazy blogger. The truth is I’m feeling pretty overwhelmed with life right now, and my creative well has been feeling pretty dry (much like my skin.) Winter is here, with all its 4pm darkness and skin shriveling, and what feels like a minor head cold that started in December and will probably resolve itself just in time for spring allergies to hit. I’ve been over-salting my food just to taste it. I don’t remember what it’s like to have a nose that’s not running the freaking Boston marathon. Being in a new city is hard. I’m ready to admit that I have been doing a bad job of making friends - someone please tell me how to do that as a married adult! (PS find me on Bumble BFF) All of which is to say that I’m trying to get my mojo back in a big way.

Like the mature adult I am, I have decided the only solution is pack up my tiny dog and two Away suitcases and escape to temperate SF. Sorry, guys, your balmy 57 is not cold. I am so ready to dust off my decorative, barely functioning jackets. Basically, I’m running home to my Mommy and I can’t wait. 

How do you beat the winter blues? How do you come up with “content” when hibernating like a bear seems like the best life choice on the table? I’m sure my mama will have the answer to all these questions and more, but if you also have any tips for this sad little lion face emoji hit me up.

Sometimes I wonder if anyone actually reads this blog (fun fact I almost never check my stats unless I'm like, pitching, something) and then I realize that of course, you do, but also then the pressure of that gets to me also. What am I trying to say? What even is this blog about anymore? Why don't I have a book deal yet? Should I give it up? I am feeling so insecure right now, which I know is definitely not on brand for me.

People who think suffering is good for artistic creation have never met my funk hole. My ennui isn't a creative catalyst for anyone, most of all me.

I guess if there is a point to this particular blogpost it is my "authenticity." Nobody can be happy and positive all the time. There are just not enough drugs in the world for that. I have my deep-seated insecurities just like everyone else. Maybe not so much about my looks, but more like, am I smart enough? Funny enough? Am I crossing the paper-thin line between self-care and selfishness?

I am self-aware enough to know I'm needy, high maintenance, horrible with money, indulgent, spend too much time in bed, and would honestly be happiest if my husband and friends carried me around in a pouch on their bellies like a kangaroo. I have no ambition, beyond making beautiful things, and trying whenever possible to send good vibes out into the internet. I feel run down and deflated and lost. I feel without worth, which is to say worthless but that word is so "poor me," and that's not quite exactly how I feel.

I have doubts, fears, insecurities, and issues that predate my cancer, and were shockingly, not cured by having cancer. Cancer has taken up a lot of my focus and energy but it might be time to refocus on the other things in me that need some healing. Cancer does not, as much as karmically it should, get rid of the daily challenges of navigating life.

I am a flawed mess. A tangle of beautiful necklaces at the bottom of a purse. The good news is that necklaces can be untangled - with patience, with dedication, with the right blend of gentleness and strength.