say it well in good sentences @maggiedoyle - Tumblr Blog

january 11, 2021

I skipped my typical writing session yesterday, as I ran out of time — getting a great start to my new years resolution! It’s OK, though, I promised myself I would do it on Monday night instead. I think as long as I do it each week, the day of the week shouldn’t really matter.

I have been thinking a lot about the mixed messages I have been receiving (or allowing myself to hear). It seems as though every piece of advice or guidance has a complete opposite piece of advice or guidance, and I have heard both of them in rapid succession. You have to put yourself out there to find love, but also it will find you when you’re not looking. You have to want a relationship, but you also have to give yourself the love and acceptance you crave from a relationship. You have to commit to self improvement and do the work, but also you are enough just as you are. For someone who regularly feels like she doesn’t belong or know what she’s doing, like she is not certain about her choices, the advice pinballs around and I feel like I have to pull all the right levers to achieve the right balance.

Let’s not even get started with the painful, problematic discourse comparing single people to real estate — that if they’re on the market for too long, there must be a reason. It feels like society is just trying to find nice ways to get me to work on myself, or to accept myself, to distract me from some defectiveness I cannot detect.

The other day I was thinking about what I would need to give up if I were to be in a serious relationship, of the variety where the person would live with me. I have so many beautiful moments of solitude. Talking to myself in the bath. Dancing to oldies around my apartment, my swiffer a microphone. Allowing my legs to creep across the mattress until I am diagonally across it, hogging the covers. Watching whatever I want, all the time, without having to wait for anyone else. Taking phone calls on speaker. Yelling at the TV. Developing parasocial relationships with my favorite podcast hosts and playing them while I shower, do dishes, cook. Walking around the lake alone. Embarrassing workouts to early aughts pop-punk hits in my living room. Checking myself out in the mirror.

I truly love these moments of solitude. I don’t know what I would do without them. When it is just me, I can romanticize them as much as I want, whatever magic I am feeling envelops me, overcome. Feeling that same sort of magic with another person in the everyday seems unlikely. I don’t want to give it up. As much as I want to be held, to care for someone else, to share my life — I love my independence and my little rituals, and sometimes they feel mutually exclusive. I don’t know if it’s unrealistic for me to hope to find someone who feels the same way.

Maybe I’ll find someone who wants to scrub toilets while belting out “Build Me Up Buttercup,” who wants to go for walks by themselves sometimes, who yells the answer to the daily double at the clueless Jeopardy! contestant. Until then, I’ll do it myself.

#weeklywritingchallenge

January 3, 2021

It all started with my bike crash on November 15, 2020. Poorly paved roads, a rookie’s bad luck, and perhaps a little inattentiveness led to my suddenly going from 30 to 40 miles per hour downhill to hurtling over the handlebars, breaking the fall with my face. I got lucky in every possible way: I was with a friend, who called another friend with a car to come get my bike; people pulled over to make sure I was OK; I received fantastic care in the emergency room (including from a very handsome resident, who must have been my age, who sewed up my busted lip and assured me I would still be pretty); besides a busted face, broken tooth, and some scrapes, I had no serious injuries. The week or so after the accident were dark and difficult, my body hurt and my bruises had bruises. I couldn’t bear to look at my own face in the mirror. The black bruising had swollen my left eye shut.

It has been seven weeks, and I haven’t ridden the bike since then. I’m scared. I had a panic attack two days before Christmas, and that set off a lot of new fears. I am also scared my heart is defective, skipping beats or fluttering and jolting me out of bed. I am scared the random aches in my leg are a blood clot, I am on two forms of birth control, anyway (a fact that feels utterly ridiculous in general, much less in the tenth month of global pandemic). I have stayed awake until 2 and 3 in the morning, or jolted up at that time gasping. My mouth has gotten dry, and each time I have tried to eat something in the last two days, I have felt a (likely imaginary) piece of food stuck and been afraid I am going to choke.

And I am choking, metaphorically. Failing to perform. I do everything “right:” I exercise, I meditate, I eat relatively healthy, I try to get enough sleep. Hydrate, walk, journal, therapy. Since the accident, it has been harder, but I have been trying. But the coping mechanisms I have in my arsenal are no match for the swell of anxiety that has built up in the last seven weeks. The accident, the pandemic, work drama, getting a new job, dealing with the holidays away from my family. Like the wave in the distance that looks manageable, that you’re pretty sure you can withstand, but it surprises you, wipes you out. The fear of being jerked around under the foam, gasping for breath, water up your nose and your perspective spun around, you’re dizzy when you get back up. It’s been one of those waves.

Anxiety is an old friend, a part of my identity. I have learned how much it does for me and how it keeps me safe, and in understanding this, worked to keep it happy, to keep the waves small and steady so I don’t get bowled over. And it is hard not to feel like I’ve failed when I’ve gotten wiped out. I don’t want to say I “let it” get so big — it’s not my fault the circumstances that packed themselves into the final weeks of 2020. My defenses and my rituals were all working well before the wave got too big for them to handle on their own, and I got knocked over.

I have decided to expand my arsenal, and am, for the first time in my 27 years, taking psychiatric medication. Despite my support for friends and family in using medication, I have been hypocritical and judgmental toward myself in “needing” it. But I know now it is just another tool in the toolbox, one that I hadn’t had a job for yet. Until now.

Each day over the last two weeks has been immensely challenging to feel OK, and often involves several rounds of deep breaths to convince myself I am not dying. I am scared, and I am tired, but I have faith that I will be able to face these big waves without falling down. After all, I love to swim.

#weeklywritingchallenge

2021

Weekly Writing Challenge

This year I resolved to set aside some time — half an hour or so — each week to write creatively. I have never had a habit, rather tended to write when I needed to, or felt so moved, feeling as though I were channeling Hemingway (''write hard and clear about what hurts'') (I haven’t really read any Hemingway. I can’t recall if I finished The Sun Also Rises or not. Is he cancelled?).

The goal is to commit something to paper that I can publish here on my writing blog each week. Eventually I will decide if this blog is a space I want to share, but for now, it’s pretty much just me and some random Tumblr followers. I find I mostly write autobiographical essays; personal think pieces; but sometimes, what I’ll work on/post will be screenplay or novel snippets.

Let’s see if I can commit :)

#weeklywritingchallenge

november 8, 2020

Alex Trebek died today. He had been sick for quite a long time, announcing his diagnosis of pancreatic cancer in early 2019, but it seemed like he had been doing well — however, it is 2020 after all, and everything has changed.

Jeopardy has been a fixture in my life and a part of my identity for as long as I can remember. Indeed, it has been on air for longer than I’ve been alive. Its current iteration aired in 1984, back when my parents were bonding over crosswords and coffee and cigarettes in Susquehanna Hall. A game show built on smarts and speed and wit is a game show built for my parents and thus, apple, tree, for me. Shouting out the correct answer as quickly as possible, all while in competition, is one of the most Doyle-like things I can imagine.

On the DC channels Jeopardy came on at 7:30 PM. (Living in Annapolis, we picked up local channels for both the DC and Baltimore media markets. My mother preferred the DC ones, likely missing her Rockville roots, and more importantly, because the Baltimore channels aired Jeopardy at 7 and Wheel of Fortune at 7:30, which is simply heresy). Our evening rituals lived and died by Jeopardy at 7:30. Dad would be home from work around 6, and then we ate dinner. Usually a little dessert and chatter followed (never, ever a quiet moment in the Doyle household). Clearing the table, doing the dishes, by 7 someone would have turned on Wheel of Fortune, the far inferior game show, but a passable warm-up for the main event. Pat Sajak (a Maryland local) and Vanna White did their thing and we lazily engaged with it because lazy engagement is all you need for Wheel of Fortune.

By 7:30, the leftovers packed up and the dishwasher running, the Doyles huddled around the television for our daily communion with the greatest game show on air.

We didn’t keep score amongst ourselves, but we all shouted out the answers and patted each other on the back for the occasional obscure clue that only one of us knew. We argued relentlessly (and without ever resolving, also big Doyle energy) about whether or not Dad got to claim having “gotten it” when he did not phrase his answer in the form of a question. Decades of watching together, and instead of once and for all deciding on rules, we welcomed the chaos. We all picked our favorite contestants based on their personal stories, their outfits, their gameplay. Mom always hated it when people jumped around the board.

Once it came to Final Jeopardy, we actually did have a rule: no blurting it out. Whether or not you indeed had the correct answer was on the honor system. We trusted. I still hold that one of the greatest feelings is getting Final Jeopardy when none of the contestants do.

When I moved out, I brought a TV to college so I could watch Jeopardy. I pay $75 a month for my stupid Xfinity wifi/basic cable package so I can get network TV like I’m a boomer, even though I only ever watch Jeopardy live once in a blue moon (because, unfortunately, the Bay Area is like Baltimore and for some ungodly reason slots Jeopardy at 7 and not 7:30 and that is just too early!). I have never watched it as much as I did growing up, where its status as a Doyle family nightly fixture is as indelible and reliable as Alex Trebek being its host.

Jeopardy as we knew it is over, as is the home I grew up in. It all feels very metaphorical today, that one of the most steadfast aspects of life at my parents’ home — even today, when we return to the empty nest, we fall right back in to the 7:30 ritual — has now come to a close. What felt as certain as the sun rising and setting never really was; people asked me if I was surprised, and of course I wasn’t really, but I think what surprised me is just how much this one man and what he represented held for me.

Home is Jeopardy with Alek Trebek at 7:30, shouting at the TV with my parents and my brothers. And that home is officially in the past now.

quotemadness

I see it all. I feel it all. My eyes fill with tears.

Virginia Woolf (via quotemadness)

Leaving Neverland (2019)

March 3 - 6, 2019

This two-part documentary series delves into the stories of two men detailing the sexual abuse perpetrated on them by Michael Jackson. It is awful, it goes into excruciating detail, and it hurt to watch. Particularly difficult to watch was the “testimony” of the mothers and the families of these boys. I don’t have too much to say other than that it is important to honor these stories and those of the one in six men who has experienced sexual assault or abuse in their lifetime, and this documentary really breaks down how insidious the grooming and abuse processes can be. A meditation and a reckoning on fame and power, and yet another piece to add to the “hurt people hurt people” pile. A very tough watch that forces us to ask how we can seek justice for victims while building a society that values healing and redemption over retribution for perpetrators. Is restorative justice ever possible in a world where this happens? 4/5

#moviesof2019

Can You Ever Forgive Me? (2018)

February 2, 2019

I was super excited to see this film; I love Melissa McCarthy and knew she would absolutely kill this role. And she did! Between her and Richard E. Grant’s incredible acting, a great script* (and great source material -- based on the true story of down-on-her-luck writer Lee Israel’s forging and sale of collectible letters from deceased celebrities to get by), and a well-paced and edited plot line, I ate this movie up. Exactly the type of content I cherish: a well-drawn character piece, relatively simple, well-acted, well done. Making even unlikable and unsavory characters and actions compelling, making me care deeply about them -- a feat. 5/5

*amazing dialogue snippet:

Lee Israel: You were friends with Julia...

Jack Hock: Steinberg. She's not an agent anymore - she died.

Lee Israel: She did? So young.

Jack Hock: Or maybe she didn't die. Maybe she just moved to the suburbs - I always confuse those two. No, that's right. She got married and had twins.

Lee Israel: Better to have died.

#moviesof2019

mas-alla

Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)

February 2, 2019

I saw this movie for my brother, Thomas, who died on February 2 in 2007. He was a humongous Spidey fan – he wore his Spider-suit everywhere, including but not limited to: to the grocery store, to the dentist, to bed, on a flight. So I ventured slightly outside my wheelhouse to see an animated action-packed superhero movie. I was pleasantly surprised at how much I enjoyed it; I had heard great reviews but still didn’t think it’d be “my thing.” With great voice performance from some of my favorite actors, fun and punchy animation, and great characters – including an afro-latino Spider-man!– I walked out really happy I’d gone to see it. I even cried! At a superhero movie! 4/5

#moviesof2019

Fyre | Fyre Fraud (2019)

January 26, 2019

Both of these documentaries were extremely fun and silly while also deeply upsetting and mind boggling. On the one hand, it’s never not fun to see rich people get monumentally screwed over. On the other, it is maddening to watch the utter and complete overconfidence, condescension, and belief in infallibility of its organizers. A very jaw-agape “how could they think this will ever work?!” type of movie. Fyre from Netflix was a little more well-done than Fyre Fraud from Hulu; the latter did feature Billy himself and some funny memes. All in all, a very enjoyable couple of docs. 4/5

#moviesof2019

If Beale Street Could Talk (2018)

January 21, 2019

What a heartbreaking and emotionally complicated film about a young black couple in 1970s New York: their love story and the crushing accusation of rape that breaks everything apart. Barry Jenkins is so masterful at weaving together vignettes and creating moods, and more importantly, strong empathy and intense emotional responses to his characters. What struck me the most was my uncertainty with certainty: the certainty that this man is innocent alongside the certainty the woman has that it was him left me deeply unsettled. If I’m left with any reflection here, it’s that nothing is certain and life is unfair. (And that Regina King is a goddess). 4/5

#moviesof2019

Stop trying to make sense of things. You can’t think your way through this. Open your heart and drink in this glorious day. You are young, and you will find little things that will make you grateful to be alive. Believe in what you love now, with all your heart, and you will love more and more until everything around you is love. Love yourself now, exactly as sad and scared and flawed as you are, and you will grow up to live a rich life and show up for other people, and you’ll know exactly how big that is.

Heather Havrilesky, How to Be a Person in the World

#quotes

Shoplifters (2018)

January 5, 2019

Sad and beautiful. This Japanese film follows the story of a poor family living on the fringes -- relying on widowed grandma’s pension checks and shoplifting to get by -- who take in a young, abused and neglected girl. The film unfolds slowly but gracefully as the family’s secrets are uncovered and you are rapt. Moving performances all around, especially from the mother character and the children. Most emotive parts: little girl being hugged and told how love feels; family trip to the beach. 5/5

#moviesof2019 #movies

2018 in Review

I, along with the masses, feel the need to reflect on the year behind us as we move into a new one. All in all, it was a long and hard year for me, but looking back there were many, many good moments. I went through them today via photos on my iphone, to jog my memory of all the things I did, saw, and took in this year. While likely very boring for you, you can read my write-ups by month further down. I also wrote out the accomplishments I’m proudest of this year. What I most want to share, though, is that this exercise made me feel better and infinitely more grateful about the year that I had! It is OK to feel bad about the year, of course, but picking out the good stuff, the memories and accomplishments I will carry with me — that really helped me see 2018 for what it was and feel prepared for 2019.

This year I: walked a whole lot, with a daily average of 5.4 miles this December; started Couch-to-5K (lol) and can now run almost 2 miles without stopping; met my yearly savings goal; started a regular volunteer gig at Tenants Together and volunteered at the Women’s Building during tax season (hmu with ur housing/tax Qs, folks); fulfilled a years-old dream of traveling to Chile and Argentina (and somehow have now visited 5 continents!); spent my first full calendar year at a full-time job; completed my (albeit measly) reading goal of 12 books in 2018 (my favorite was The Sense of an Ending by Julian Barnes).

My resolutions include: new savings goal to meet; run a 5k; cook more (lol); write more.

2018 was a long year for a me, a bit of a slog, really. In looking back at the highlights, I also want to be honest about the downsides and the ruts. I experienced a fair amount of depression this year, more than I ever have; I tried to make big life changes that ultimately fell through; and I cried a lot. If you know me well you know my whole life is an existential crisis, but turning 25 I entered a new phase of it and I’m still grappling with finding my place. But I do believe moving through the rough stuff is important and necessary (as Bright Eyes sings, “your eyes must do some raining if you’re ever going to grow.” A little trite, a lot true). I am so, so grateful for my friends and family who have supported me, listened to me, and reminded me of my strengths when I’ve had a hard time reminding myself.

Onwards and upwards, 2019 <3

January

Rang in the new year with Leah and Sarah in DC and kissed some macaroni and cheese at midnight. Went from SF to DC and back again for family business (and saw all of my cousins together for the first time in years)— on a connecting flight, witnessed the magic of flying into LA at night. Saw so many DC/Maryland friends at a Mags-in-DC happy hour. Women’s marched.

February

Had a wonderful surprise visit from my dear friend Nacho from Chile; had a magical Dolores day that ended with free empanadas from our new friend Paula. Went back to Big Sur for the first time in 10 years (bless Nacho for supporting me in the most difficult driving I’ve ever done, in Matt’s car no less (thanks Matt!)). Went back to LA and visited the Figure 8 wall, the Museum of Death, and LACMA. Started happy hour tradition with Meredith at the Lake Chalet; sliders and lavender lemonades (lemony snickets). Got my first budget through the Port Commission.

March

Pisco party with Will. Celebrated Pi Day with Katie. Made an Irish soda bread for St. Patrick’s and celebrated with the Stones. Took a while to close out my tab because I was not the only Doyle in the bar that night (ha!). Watched the entirety of Six Feet Under, briefly considered career shift to funeral director.

April

Turned 25 and was overjoyed to be joined by my brothers for their first trip to visit me in California. We went to Land’s End and to Santa Cruz. Peter cooked a delicious salmon dinner for us before my party. Special out of town guests at my birthday included Jacob and Pablo (wow was I lucky!). Got the best haircut & highlights of my life (thanks Ms. Siobhan!). Walked to work on walk to work day. Easter morning mass with Gregory.

May

This was the month I went to Olive Garden at the Stonestown Mall by myself and sat alone at the bar. They treated me like a queen. Discovered internal family systems with my therapist and reached a turning point in learning to value myself. Was featured on SFGOVTV while my boss presented to the Board of Supervisors and I looked beautiful that day. Biked to work on bike to work day. Started volunteering at Tenants Together. Ate a tacro, it was weird.

June

Baby’s first camping trip to Arroyo Seco with Maddy, Vinnie, Gabi, and Joey. We swam in a gorge and I got a sunburn. Then we went to In-N-Out and camped a second night in the Byrne’s living room because we didn’t get a campsite for the second night. Tradr Sam’s with Gregory (he has far too much video evidence of the debauchery of this occasion). Pride at Dolores Park, someone bought me a rainbow jello shot, I vigorously reapplied sunscreen but drunkenly missed the same spots every time.

July

Freezing SF summer. Enjoyed Mamma Mia 2 (here we go again!) with the biggest Cher fan in existence (love 2 Sabrina) and Molly and Filipa. Got some summertime weather in Sacramento with Leah, where we went to a country club to play in their pool and went to the state fair. Elotes and deep fried cookie dough.

August

Attended the international dog surfing competition (!!!) in Pacifica. Had my first visit back to Ocean City in several years, ate crabs on my grandparents’ deck and Thrasher’s french fries on the boardwalk. Traveled to Chicago for a hot minute and then to Madison, Wisconsin to see two dear friends, Laura and Ryan, get married. Their song was “This Must Be The Place.” Deep fried cheese curds.

September

Another visit to LA, this time to see Maddy and Vinnie in their brand-new home. Ate so much delicious food (Little Ethiopia! Zankou! Tacos!), swam in the Pacific Ocean for the first time (really swam) with Vinnie, and almost got banned from Dodgers stadium. Runyon Canyon and Point Dume with Matt and Jacob. Met a dog who lives in a laundromat after one of Molly’s shows. Published my first budget book.

October

Hiked the Marin Headlands with Matt and walked across the Golden Gate Bridge for the first time (somehow). Dogsat Stella for the Byrnes. Bought cool new glasses for $15. Canvassed for Propositions C + 10. Saw Roma at the Castro Theatre with Sarah, and Alfonso Cuaron and Yalitza Aparicio were there. Fell three (3) times at a haunted house from being scared (Molly as my witness). Killed the Halloween costume game.

November

More canvassing and phone banking for Props C + 10 (C passed!). The seawall bond passed and I was proud to have given presentations to community groups about it. Beautiful, beautiful Dia de los Muertos in the Mission with Tyler. Incredible, incredible trip to Chile and Argentina — too much to write here — terrazando, carmenere and piscolas, la cordillera, empanadas and choripans, a million museums, amazing views, and incredible company in Nacho, Rodrigo, Santiago, Joaquin, Pipe and Paz and Pablo and more. Wow.

December

Clementime with Molly. Successfully recreated my favorite dish from Buenos Aires, pollo a la portuguesa (she cooked!). Visited Sabrina in Santa Cruz, hiked Buzzard’s Roost in Big Basin and attended the greatest Christmas/guitar factory store party ever. Macaroni Grill (!!!) w Mere. Parties and shows with Joe and Pete, the Building Museum with Maddy, drinks and dinners and lunches and brunches with old, old friends. Family festivities. Rewatched all 8 Harry Potter films in a four day span.