A Wild 154 Days: 003

Day 003: XVI The Tower. 

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Am I the only who sees The Tower in a throw and thinks “Oooh, fuck” in that slow-mo way that Ralphie says it in THE CHRISTMAS STORY?

So. The Tower. I know exactly the devastation and upheaval this refers to and was actually thinking about it when I was shuffling. See, my girl, my first baby, leaves for college soon. And she took her practice driving test today. And, oddly enough, the thought of her driving alone drove me to tears today. Her going to college? I’ve been okay about. Her driving alone? FREAKS ME THE FUCK OUT.

And it’s like all these shifts all at once and holy, holy how am I supposed to do all this?
 

A Wild 154 Days: 001

I wake from his good morning kiss, then hear the distinct beep of the coffeemaker as he turns it on for me before leaving. My head is throbbing, but it only takes a moment to register that it is indeed Friday, and the Full Buck Moon hangs heavy against the inky sky. Full moon hangover already or a precursor to the show?

No matter; I have to see her. So, I slip out to the yard as quietly as I can, feet leading me toward the light spilling across the side of our home.

There she is, pregnant with possibilities, Mars her companion. I marvel a moment, snap a quick photo, and then steal back inside.

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I pour a cup of coffee, make my way to my desk, grab my deck, and light a candle.

It's time.

This blood moon is a siren calling me back to the cards, and it is fortuitous that, from today, there are 154 days until my 38th birthday--just enough time to make it through two tarot decks if I pull one card a day and three cards to celebrate my birth.

#AWild154Days of tarot starts here, lovelies.

I may ask a different question each day, but today I started with the question I always seem to ask: What do I need to know today?

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And Death stared up at me.

Which is fitting, I suppose, as this full moon eclipse has been referred to as one of not just transition, but rebirth. Which is fitting, I suppose, as my creative world is shifting a bit with the upcoming release of my collection of poetry, The Wild In-Between. Which is fitting, I suppose, as it seems my Capricorn sun is always in a state of transition, of adjusting, of starting over and shedding.

Death is a welcomed harbinger of change.

Honestly, all I could think of when I saw it was "Oh! Thank goodness it isn't The Tower." lol

So.

If you'd like to join in on this tarot journey, please do and use the hashtag because I'd love to see your throws. There are no hard and fast rules; I will be pulling daily and sharing on social media, but you can participate as much or as little as you wish.

If you just want to follow along, follow the hashtag on Instagram, check my account @thewildinbetween, or visit here for updates.

Happy full moon, babies!

* Deck: Nomad Tarot

There’ll be no one left to tell our story.

It dawned on me this morning that the United States is a sinking ship.

We are a Titanic with exaggerated, mythical abilities that truly was never built to help all its passengers survive.

See, whatever some of us thought we were, we aren’t.

And some of the first class passengers are just now realizing this.

And some of the first class passengers have always known there aren’t enough lifeboats.

And it’s all hands on deck, but no one is saving us. No . . . no, instead they’re making sure the gates are locked on the third class passengers while the hull floods.

They never intended for us to survive. 

And it’s been women and children first, sure, but instead of helping them, they’re caging them. 

And the rats are fleeing, but not before infecting everything and everyone they can. Because if they can’t have the run of things, they don’t give a damn about leaving a plague in their wake. 

And the water is coming up fast, sometimes faster than we can climb or run or swim, and we feel frozen in place.

Some of us are drowning.

Some of us are jumping. 

Some of us are fighting through the numbness and pain to make it out alive, knowing—knowing—that what awaits us will likely be more treading of water in the darkness before help arrives.

If help arrives.

And the captain doesn’t care about the sinking of this ship because he steered us to the sharks on purpose. 

And the captain doesn’t care about the sinking of this ship because his heart’s already an iceberg. 

So, if we’re to survive this, we need to listen for every whistle of distress.

If we’re to survive this, we need to make room in the lifeboats, turn toward the fray, and risk capsizing to save as many lives as we can. 

if we’re to survive this, we have to realize there is room on the door.  

Things They Don’t Tell You About Parenting Young Adults: 001

1. Sleepless nights don’t stop, but you might find yourself actually melancholy when you realize someday soon your sleeplessness won’t be eased by the sound of the house alarm chime when they walk through the front door . . . because they’ll be sleeping elsewhere.

Like their dorm room. 

2.  Your conversations will run the gamut of topics, from Snapchat and current slang to relationship advice and fashion tips, and you’ll actually enjoy it. 

It’ll feel less like talking to a hormonal wall and more like talking to a younger, smarter version of yourself.  

3. Never underestimate the gift of one-on-one time together. Even if that means running errands or keeping each other company while painting your own nails, you’ll be grateful for that time well spent.

4. Worrying doesn’t stop, either. It just changes, grows in different directions, maybe even becomes that sort of desperate worry that can never be fully alleviated because couch snuggles and kissing their hurts isn’t as effective as it once was.  

Costco Haul: 001

If, like me, you find yourselves at Costco (far too) often, you know that there can be hidden gems amongst the bulk and seasonal items. 

Unfortunately, they seem to sell out quickly or leave the sales floor for seasons at a time (if they come back at all), so I thought this would be a fun little series featuring those Costco finds that almost immediately make their way into my cart.

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- Moleskine Cahier journals. This six-pack sells for $19.99 at Costco and includes 1 grey, 1 blue, 1 red, 1 kraft brown, 1 green, and 1 black journal. Something similar is going for $48.95 via Amazon Prime, so this is definitely a steal for all my journal loving people.

- L'Oreal Voluminous Lash Paradise Mascara. A single tube of this glorious, drugstore mascara is $8.99 at Target, but Costco is currently offering a three-pack for $17.99! You're basically getting one free! Add to that the fact that most mascaras are only supposed to be used for three months and this three-pack practically has you covered for the whole year.

Oh! Did I mention it is also a well known dupe for the Too Faced Better Than Sex Mascara, whose standard size sells for $23 a tube? Buy this three-pack at Costco and you'll totally get your money's worth.

- HUE Perfect Fit Leggings. These leggings are available on Nordstrom.com for $36 each, but if you can make it out to a Costco or can order online, you can snag a 2-pack of these comfy leggings for $18.99. These super lightweight, just stretchy enough to feel comfortable without looking like pajama pants, wide waistband leggings are even opaque and would be great for lounging or layering. 

* If you are between sizes, you may want to size down. I purchased the XLs last week and they are comfy, but not fitted, so I'm keeping them for lounging around the house and picked up a size L set today to wear for errands and such.

Annnnnnd there you have it, folx--my first ever Costco haul. Let me know in the comments below what gems you've uncovered on Costco trips and I'll be sure to share whatever finds get me giddy in the future.

xo

A summoning. Twenty-three.

1. He makes enough coffee for the both of us so these 4AM wake ups hurt a little less.

Just a little.

2. We're finally getting around to her senior portraits today. I'm not sure either of us are ready.

3. Tomorrow is the last final of the semester. I'm so ready.

4. I want to be here more. I think I've said that before. I know I have. But it is still true. Is anyone else moving back to blogging?

5. This could be a five things sort of deal. Or three. Maybe even seven. Let's just see, okay? Okay.

Five Things: A summoning. Twenty-Two.

1. Wracked with tears and realizations that came too late. 

2. the longer I am on facebook, the less I want to be there. 

But there are people showing up and conversations being held there that are valuable to me, so I stop by for them and leave the rest. 

3. I’m sorry. I want to show up more. 

4.  Vanilla caramel creamer and coffee at home. 

5. I’m so ready for summer vacation, but not the heat or college freshman orientation or all the things it will bring closer. 

Five things: a summoning. Twenty-one.

1. Graph the equation , the question reads and I am reminded, yet again, why I hate math.  

Also? Fractions suck ass.  

2. I’m the mom in the pick up queue bumping Biggie, and I don’t even care if it garners looks. If you don’t turn up 2Pac or Biggie when they come on the radio or up on the playlist, we can’t be friends.  

3. I’ve been crying daily. I don’t know if the world is crueler, if I am softer, if it’s a mixture of both, or if maybe I am just exhausted over all of it. In any case, it feels like my heart is an open wound, and I’m trying to figure out how to deal with the privilege of being able to feel this way. 

4. It feels like winter in SoCal, and I wonder if the Japan earthquake in 2011 adjusting the earth’s axis means it shifted what we know to be the cycle of seasons. So, maybe February is now the start of winter instead of December, and so on.

Maybe the combination of global warming and the shift is what is creating weather that seems unseasonable. 

5. Here. And isn’t that some sort of gift.  

Five things: a summoning. Twenty.

1-5. notice the riot of green spreading across the blacked earth. 

 Look, I say. The grass. It’s growing back.

He steals a glance and says, You know, I almost got some [blackened earth] for you on my way home yesterday, but I didn’t have a container. Next time. 

Aw !, I say, and our youngest asks, What? I tell him his Daddy was going to get me some dirt because loves me, and the look on his face is utter confusion. 

I tell him to marry a witch one day and he‘ll understand. 

 

Five things: a summoning. Nineteen.

1. I'm not sure whether or not being here is a sign of moving on or coping, and isn't that a fucking luxury.

2. I woke up at 5AM this morning, having forgotten to turn off my alarms, and let myself watch a movie on Netflix.

Things still feel hella heavy, but I'm trying to be aware of just how lucky I am to be here. To have my children safe under my roof. To not be in mourning.

3. Study runes.

4. I don't know what to say.

5. Maybe you don't, either?

Five things: a summoning. Eighteen.

1. I made my bed this morning as my children readied for school, and wept for the parents who had empty beds last night. 

2. I learned about ALICE—Alert. Lockdown. Inform. Counter. Evacuate.—today from this post, and openly wept at the gym.

Our children should not be sacrificial lambs.

3.  I commented The longer I live, the more I understand why people storm the castle, and I meant it. 

No one is coming to save us when lined pockets take precedence over lined coffins. So, my friend, we have to save each other.

4. As a parent, I promise my babies I’ll always keep them safe, but how do we do that when the entities put in place to ensure our safety turn the other way while gunshots ring out?  How do we do that when the entities put in place to ensure our safety gun us down in the streets while our schools become the stage for some sick fuck’s rage fantasy?

5. I am afraid. I am enraged. I am despondent.  

 

Five things: a summoning. Seventeen.

1. She stole my formatting, and then replied with some condescending nonsense that basically regurgitated what I had already shared.  

I wanted to reply Don’t come for me unless I call you, but tried being more tactful instead. 

I hope she read between the lines.  

2. Happy Gooey Hearts’ Day!

May today be but a reminder of how you are loved daily rather than the one day you feel loved.  

3.  Spaghetti for dinner, and I’m just not feeling it, you know? 

4. It was gloriously grey all day and now the sun is out. I wish it would’ve stayed away a little longer. 

5. Clothing designers really don’t design for curvy, petite women.  

Five things: a summoning. Sixteen.

1. It’s chilly today. The kind of chilly that makes us open all the windows in the house. The kind of chilly that feels like relief in our lungs. 

I don’t miss the sun.  

I often think we live/I was born in the wrong state.  

2. Fleur de sel caramels. Their perfect chewiness. The way they melt on my tongue.  

3. Eucalyptus in the shower. It scents the air and, if I’m being honest, just looks really pretty against the white tiles.  

4. Research projects in the school queue. I just started and already I’m ready to be graduated.  

5. Dear Universe, I would love to work in a local library or bookstore. Please help me make that happen.  

Five things: a summoning. Fifteen.

1. Is it weird to not want to wear pants? I feel like it is weird . . .  and, yet, it feels cathartic, too. 

2. He dances in the kitchen for me, then irons the boys’ clothes so I can sleep in a little longer tomorrow morning.

Acts of love.  

3. Playing Tooth Fairy, and wondering how long before he, too, stops believing.  

4.  Two loaves of banana bread with chunks of walnuts and salted butter, fresh from the oven. Warm water with lemon.

5. We stop to see the puppies again. I want that Saint Bernard, sweet little girl that she is.  

Five things: a summoning. Fourteen.

1. Grey skies and an open moonroof, my hand reaching for the mist. 

2. I walk in the door and he’s already insisting on making me something to eat.

He crisps the ciabatta perfectly.  

He always does. 

3. She looks so grown. My heart sort of hurts and soars.  

4. We can sit under light blankets and wear hoodies and have the windows open. This weather, it is glorious.  

5. Homework can wait. Right now, I just want to snuggle.