tammytoes

i joined the gym after too many hand-wringing months about it and my life already makes more sense.  muscles are stretching beneath too many summer beers and movies.  hallelujah.  my world rejoices in smelly sweat.

in other news, iTunes is claiming that the fIREHOSE album Mr. Machinery Operator was actually recorded by the band Firehouse.  my sincerest apologies to Mike Watt.  i reckon my computer is feeling passive aggressive seein’ as how i recently made it import all of Loverboy’s greatest hits.  what can you do?  it’s Loverboy.

life has been subsuming.  the universe has been providing. it has been a crazy couple of weeks since halloween.

thanksgiving was a day full of cooking for people i love, sharing stories with people just met, and laughter punctuated with wine-stained kisses.

my tooth broke in half three days after my dental insurance started.  so now i have a temporary tooth, a permanent tooth on order, and a dental office full of loving, but stern, professionals from former Eastern bloc countries who holler at each like family and take good care of me.  and some more credit card debt.

my ipod started making  a frowney face and wouldn’t stop, and the fine folks at the Apple cube mecca diagnosed it as “hosed” and gave me a new one.  that was nice.  so nice, in fact, that i solved my next technology crisis with a return visit to them.

my pc laptop suffered a meltdown.  so now i have a new macbook named Pom-Pom that makes me smile, secures my livelihood and otherwise adds cheer in my existence.  and some more credit card debt.

i’m starting to figure out some of this self-employment stuff.  so now i have spreadsheets with estimated taxes, spreadsheets for budgets, and some of my spreadsheets have their own spreadsheets.  when i’m feeling up to it, i will add some pivot tables to my spreadsheets.

i had a week that  began with a casiotone for the painfully alone show in an effects pedal warehouse manufacturer semi-secret/legal location and ended with a kaiju big battel match.  i was on painkillers from an emergency root canal for kaiju big battel and the first few matches of costumed monster wrestling made me feel like i was swimming in a godzilla movie. it didn’t help that the location of the event was the polish national house, and polish grandmothers in tight pants  served my perogies before the event began.

i got better in time to host a mimosa brunch.

and i got to see barclay martin play pete’s candy store.  and watch the new york marathon.  and this past week, tina fey threw a t-shirt to me that i won in a raffle contest and i saw alec baldwin laugh his ass off about a tampon joke.
when i put all this down in words it seems both surreal and strikingly romantic.  too charmed to be true. even my crises – which have felt so real and articulated in this crazy big city – have been mediated by good love and friends.  they’re a disincentive to write, these stories, along with the crazy wind that whips through the skyscrapers of manhattan like they’re massive canyons.  my thighs and nose and knees and fingers get chilled for hours.  my hair is long so that i can tuck it into hats.  it’s softer than it’s been for years.  the cat takes long winter naps and stretches serenely.  i curl up in a cozy space and dream big dreams for next year, new projects, and then fall asleep.

and on thanksgiving, i diced onions and minced garlic and all the while i was thinking of how lovely and lucky it is that all of you are in my life.  thanks so much.