The Bitch is Back

It has been months and months since I wrote a sub stack…a newsletter….a blog…a love letter to “Pages.” I don’t like Pages. I think it has no character, it feels completely soulless. Remember when Microsoft Word was the head bitch in charge? Was that really so long ago? Want to feel old? It was kind of long ago. 

Remember in 2003? When it felt like the world was her oyster, like the flame of her relevance could never be extinguished. She was an it-girl and like every it girls she’s been replaced by something newer but essentially identical. When one supreme rises…etc etc etc.

I didn’t come here to talk about pages and I didn’t come here to make friends. I came here for the fleeting satisfaction of filling a white space with words and then later telling someone “I have a substack…have you ever heard of it? Its so eye roll but I’m *actually* kind of enjoying it.”

I’m sorry that I haven’t written in a long time. There isn’t really a reason except for maybe that I was working on other things and I suddenly got afraid I would start writing entries that weren’t as good as previous ones and everyone would hate me and I would disappear into the ether like the Microsoft suite. I actually don’t care if some of them aren’t that good, as I’ve already told you literally so many times. I am going to post one every Wednesday no matter what unless I die.

I was in a place that I thought was Washington DC this weekend but later found out wasn’t Washington DC. It was Arlington Virginia and my hotel was Disney channel in that there was a chic man running the front desk with a vague accent and he was very stressed and all the guests were being very demanding. 

I arrived at the same time as a motorcycle…gang? Convention? Chosen family? I don’t know how they identified but there were about 40 people over the age of 50, the women in mom jeans and assymetrical haircuts actually and the men in old Harley Davidson shirts. Everyone wore leather vests with random patches on them and I really wanted to know: Where did they all get the patches? Do motorcyclists get patches for motor cycling events? Is it like boy scouts in that way?

The Disney channel hotel concierge was stressed because he didn’t have a heads up that the cyclists were all arriving at the same time and we all had to wait in a very long line in the hotel lobby while he frantically typed (in a Disney Channel way). Somehow I was right in the middle of the line of all the cyclists. I wish I could post a picture of them because I did take one but I can’t because that actually would be mean. One of them wore a patch that said “Stand for the flag, kneel for the fallen,” so that was their vibe.

One of the men behind me was like “How’d you get stuck with us?!” And I was like “haha.” I felt like I had to ask him what they were doing so I said “what are you guys doing?”

“Memorial.” A woman nest to him answered. She had short blonde hair that flared out just beneath her ears. I waited for her to say what it was a memorial of but she didn’t. She pointed outside at a metal side car with a big torch burning inside of it. “We’ve transported that flame from OREGON,” she told me very seriously.

“Wow,” I said. “That’s unbelievable.”

“Yea,” she said. “From Oregon.” I was afraid she thought I didn’t believe her but I did.

Anyways I ended up having to wait like 2 hours to get into my room and in that interim I went to the hotel restaurant and ate what I unfortunately must  characterize as the worst wrap I’ve ever engaged with in my life. Nothing else interesting happened except that I did 4 shows and I liked the audiences all very much and there were a lot of cute gay men there and I hoped they all had sex with each other later.

I have felt like I have been doing bad at eating disorder recovery. I don’t really feel like going into specifics because you actually need to have personal boundaries but I am a bit discouraged and it feels like I will never be well. I keep forgetting to take my meds which I tell eating disorder woman and she’s like “Maybe that’s why you’re sad!” And I’m like “Ugh, no,” and she’s like “You really need to take them!”

It feels very tropey, being someone who keeps not taking their medsd. Like I am a TV show character — an older women who keeps being exhausting to her adult daughter (the main character of the show who actually has her OWN kids + a job). And the adult daughter is like “Mom, the doctor said: you NEED to take your meds!” And the older woman (me) is like “I don’t like how they make me feel!” And the adult daughter doesn’t really know how to handle it.

The TV show is just sort of generally about how the adult daughter is simply spread too thin and basically doesn’t make time for LOVE. Anyways my eating disorder woman told me to leave my meds by the coffee so I’m doing that now. I’m unlike the older woman from the show in that I don’t not take them on purpose, I just forget.

My twenty-something gay therapist left the clinic I go to and tried to set me up with an older straight man named Bernie. I am physically unable to answer Bernie’s calls and getting a sick and twisted pleasure out of seeing how long he will leave me voice mails for. He called me 13 times over 4th of July weekend!!!

I am trying to start running again because I would like to run a good marathon before I die. In 6 years I will be 38. I don’t really know what my point is there but it is something I keep saying to myself. I had hip bursitis for the entirety of July but now I think it’s better. I was very inspired by Molly Seidell’s bronze in the women’s olympic marathon. I think I will talk more about the Olympics next time.

OK I think that will be it for now. I just was getting my feet wet with this one. And now that they are completely drenched? The sky is the limit!!!