we're not kids anymore.
Love Begins
Cosimo Galluzzi
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
Three Goblin Art
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
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Xuebing Du
Misplaced Lens Cap
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dirt enthusiast
blake kathryn
AnasAbdin
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
taylor price
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tannertan36
almost home
Peter Solarz
will byers stan first human second
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@tabithakingmablog
knit me together
Knitting. It’s winter. And I’ve taken to knitting again. It’s not like riding a bike. But it is a muscle memory that comes back each year around this time. I pick a project. Not from a knitting pattern site or a book. But an item I want to make. For a specific purpose. I find a retail version of something I like. Study it. And draw my own pattern. Sometimes it has ribbing or cables. A herring…
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love: it's like paul rudd.
love: it’s like paul rudd.
Love. You can’t hate it. As angst-ridden and agonizing as it can be it looks back at you with watery, puppy dog eyes and a crooked smile that says, “Hug me.” Like Paul Rudd, you can’t hate the guy. You can’t push him away. He’s just always there. Faithful “Guy In Movie” making us all watery-eyed and crooked-smiley. Love is like Paul Rudd.
It makes you feel warm and fuzzy.This Is 40. Paul Rudd…
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It’s cold. Really cold. I climbed out of bed this morning. Stiff. Shivering. And having to pee. I threw on some leggings and grabbed my fleece bathrobe. It’s like wearing a blanket. And so cozy. So cozy I never took it off. I wore it while I looked at the notifications of belated birthday wishes on Facebook. It was keeping me warm while I surfed Indeed and LinkedIn for job postings. It stayed with me while I filled out a lengthy application, wrote a cover letter, and answered a list of questions in the application requirements. The sash was still keeping it wrapped around me as I finally attached my resume and hit send.
My grand plan for the day was to put this robe on, play Skyrim for a better portion of the day and just forget that life is hard right now. But I remembered that life is hard right now, let the dog out in the snow. She came back in wriggling her muscular body and wiggling her nubby tail. I took a deep breath, poured some coffee, and headed back downstairs to my laptop to “work”.
I wandered upstairs a few times to chat with my cousin’s wife or grab a snack. my faithful robe keeping me snug. my makeup-less face and disheveled hair saying, This chick gave up on today. I video recorded the dog howling to a battery operated snowman and dog singing Jingle Bells, yes, in my bathrobe. I was still wearing the robe when my cousin returned home from Arizona around 6:00 and he kissed his wife hello while I made brown sugar and cinnamon rice. They made out and I told them to stop being gross. I was 15 all of a sudden. I was still in my robe when I went up to grab a beer and asked to taste test a cookie. Why not. It’s pretty, made of peanut butter, powdered sugar and chocolate. It’s delicious. So I grab one feeling like a contributing member of the family as I give it my approval and head back downstairs.
Nothing says starting over like living in a basement, using someone else’s kitchen and job hunting in your bathrobe. Next thing you know I’ll be selling anything worth anything and stealing a slushy wearing a hoodie and sunglasses. It’s a good thing I don’t need a lawn or I’d be cutting up chunks of sod to put in my own yard just to feel human again. At least Dick had a Jane by his side while his world was falling apart. I don’t have a partner in life or crime. Every Bonnie needs a Clyde. I wasn’t built for this.
I may have been in my robe. But who says you can’t get stuff done in your robe? I reached out, I made my calls, I put in my resume, and I wait in my robe. I keep my website updated and click this and that, share and post, keep in touch with contacts, all in my robe. I do what I’m supposed to do. Only today I did it with bony, icy hands typing away in the basement where I sleep (and for which I am eternally grateful), and I pray for something to come of it all.
I have what I need today. And that is enough. Me and my robe, and a bottle of Dragon’s Milk because it’s 9:30 at night. You’re not a real writer unless you’re drinking alone at one point or another in the day. Tomorrow I’ll be in a cocktail dress at this hour, so it all evens out. Cheers, all, from your blogger in a bathrobe to you (probably) in yours. Cozy, right?
it was a bathrobe day It's cold. Really cold. I climbed out of bed this morning. Stiff. Shivering. And having to pee.
When A Sagittarius No Longer Cares It's my birthday this week. I'm a Sagittarius. While I take the Zodiac signs with a grain of salt, I can't help but think that most of the time they are a rather accurate description of one's personality.
to dream the impossible dream
to dream the impossible dream
a dream. we all have at least one. a dream to be someone. a dream to go somewhere. a dream to do something important in this life. a dream to live simply. a dream to experience all we can in this world. and sometimes those dreams die. for a while at least.
Youth is wasted on the young
~George bernard shaw
some of us spend most of our lives dreaming of living the dream, only to have our plans,…
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the other 'd' word
the other ‘d’ word
Dating. This was the one thing I was dreading when thinking about not being married anymore. No matter the state of the marriage, at least I already had someone. There was no guessing, no more uncertainty. Marriage, for me, was kind of like being in this orb of safety. The orb was a force field which kept men at bay. Something in my subconscious, body language, and presence of a ring on my finger…
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the 'd' word
the ‘d’ word
Wait in line. Take a seat. Have my name called. It’s like being at the D.M.V., but with sweaty palms and the jitters. Men are wearing ill-fitting suits and holding child support paperwork. I wear a plaid midi skirt with tall black boots, a white dress shirt and my blue wool overcoat to match. It is soaked from doubling as my umbrella, but it has time to dry out while I sit in the bench within…
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car service center syndrome: afraid of what's under the hood of our lives
car service center syndrome: afraid of what’s under the hood of our lives
When It Comes To Cars
I’m sitting in the service center of my car dealership. I brought it in for a recall on the make, model, and year of my car’s ignition. The car is 17 years old. My cousin just replaced the entire exhaust system which had fallen out almost as soon as he had hoisted it up in his garage. He also replaced spark plugs that were so completely severed he had no logical explanation…
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girls: coming of age in an ageless culture
girls: coming of age in an ageless culture
Growing up girl. Growing up is inevitable. Unless we have Benjamin Button syndrome, we’re aging. And, perhaps, maturing. But are we really, though? There are days when I feel (more…)
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when it IS about the nail: toxic relationships
when it IS about the nail: toxic relationships
We’ve all seen this by now. Okay, we’ve all, probably, seen this by now: It’s Not About The Nail. If you haven’t seen it, it’s worth the minute and forty-one seconds to take a look. It’s about marriage relationships, but I’ve seen it used in the corporate world, real estate meetings, passed along as jokes about the differences between men and women in general. Why? Because it applies to all types…
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my blue heaven: psychology of waterfront living
my blue heaven: psychology of waterfront living
’cause I gotta peaceful easy feelin’. When I live on Lake Michigan, even in the coldest of months, I feel better. When something stressful happens or I’m feeling low I will bundle up grab a snow shovel, walk to the edge of the embankment, plop the shovel in the snow, and plant my bum in its scoop to sit there channeling my inner Cherokee in meditation. The neighbors have probably gotten over the…
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on writing the truth and a personal essay
on writing the truth and a personal essay
Writing about your life can sometimes feel a bit cathartic, but it can also give you this squishy, uncertain feeling in your tummy. You start to wander if you said too much, or if you were so cryptic people were left scratching their heads. Sometimes you can deflect with humor or sarcasm from issues that feel too close to home. Or, you may be completely oblivious to the fact that you just gave…
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Essays from life
A book of essays
true stories and essays about life, love. and family
a book of essays about life, love, and family. one essay at a time, published as completed.