Tuesday, February 7, 2017




Two weeks ago my skin was like, “Hey Lindsay.”
And I was very busy so I just said, “That’s weird, that you’re talking to me. Because you’re skin.”
And then it was quiet for a while.

AND THEN. The angriest hives I’ve seen in real life OR in a kindergarten classroom OR on the internet erupted over three quarters of my body. Touché, skin.

AND THEN the steroids I was finally prescribed (only after an urgent care nurse and two doctors took turns being grossed out by me, plus a child in the waiting area) made me nauseated and lethargic and weepy. I ONLY missed four days of work, because luckily (LUCKILY) there was a weekend in there for me to lay and cry through. Unfortunately it was the weekend of the Women’s March, so instead of boarding a bus with my comrades I sat on my couch with tubes of cortisone and fist-pumped in solidarity to live-streamed speeches. I also made another donation to Planned Parenthood, partly out of commitment to the revolution and partly because I’m going to ask them to take the amount of my donations off the cost of my next abortion. Gotta look out for number one, you know?


The rash went away for about a week but over the last few days it’s been slooooowly coming back, like it thinks that if it’s veeery sneaky I won’t notice it’s there. Imagine a tiny red-haired child tiptoeing out of its bedroom (where it’s supposed to be napping because you put a million grams of steroids into its milk) as quietly as it can, and also the child is giggling because it’s evil, and also the child has a knife and it’s going to stab you in the skin with it. 

So that’s my life lately, plus also very sore leg muscles which I’m hoping aren’t related to the rash because I don’t have time to pay attention to my body’s shenanigans right now. Also I started therapy. He’s a sex therapist, which was a very entertaining thing to tell my mom. Also he’s helping me not want to punch strangers in the throat and/or burst into tears at the sight of them because their shirt triggered intense feelings of guilt, which is a very good thing for everyone. Also I haven’t finished reading any books like I said I was going to but I did buy a bunch of new ones like I said I wasn’t going to, so, you know, win-win. Also Arwen moved in with me and is happily stomping around on her tiny cat feet sprinkling her hair and  granules of the disgustingly expensive blue cat litter crystals I bought for her on every surface of my apartment. Also today I ate peanut butter straight out of the jar for lunch. 


Sometimes I want to live in a teeny tiny house on a very boulder-y beach (and waves have to be crashing onto the boulders, like, a lot) (and there have to be storms sometimes) (but the storms never knock over my little baby house) (but sometimes they blow interesting objects onto my doorstep though). My hair will be long enough so that I can tie it around my ankles when it gets very windy, and all the sea creatures will tell me how nice it looks and I will tell them that it’s because of all the salt that gets in it and they will say we know, we are sea creatures. We live in the sea. And I will pick up sea glass and look at it and say thank you to the water for making such a lovely thing, and then I will put it back because someone else might like to look at it too. And if it’s in my house, then they’d have to come inside to look at it (and I’d rather they didn’t) (but sometimes I might watch them from my eensy weensy window) (which will be round and have a seat underneath) (and sharing the things I think are lovely makes me happy, even though the sharing makes me tired).