Sore Butt and I’m in a Rut

et voilà the pan pacific erewhon haul

I am writing to you once again from my cellular!! Not by choice, I assure you. My laptop was ready for pick up last Wednesday, but I was not made aware of this fact as the email alerting me immediately went to my junk inbox—oops. However, I was able to pick up on Sunday. I would be using now, if my wicked witch ex roommate were not now polluting the space, picking up all her frat boy decor. And rather than go home I got gas and drove around aimlessly, until I decided to write to YOU dear reader, from pan pacific park. Something about being forced to hang out in the park because you can’t go home very much has the energy of being at after school care, you know after-school, & waiting with the counselors for your mom to pick you up, bc you’re one of the last ones standing. The counselors eagerly wanting to go home, while you’re just vibing on the monkey bars 😎

But we’re here to trust the journey, not the destination! A pug just ran up to me, and stared me down; I know not what this omen means. But I distinctly recall my dad owning a pug named Gigi, whom he was not the nicest to (is he nice to anyone), who would do these odd little snorts.

!!!!!!!

The housing sitch has been v tough as I may well be evicted within the next two months if I do not leave :;))))))))) My only solace in all of this, is that the witch has decided to sign a lease at a new place, so we kindaaaaa won, but not really bc my landlord h8s my guts 😇

My mental has been a rollerrrrrrrcoaster this past week, esp. after engaging in a dialogue with a person from my past which I most definitely should not have done bc it left me in tears *literally*. If you have a thing for Billy Idol, these are my eyes without a face 😔.

lately i’ve been trying to document whenever i cry, so i can laugh about whatever it was when i’m feeling better

My equilibrium has been really out of wack, that the odd stare down from a dude in a truck, or the guy on a motorcycle that saw me fiddling with my phone at a RED LIGHT, said “hey cutie why don’t you get off your phone” sends me automatically into fight mode 👊👊

But in the spirit of protecting my energy and trying to add light to my life, I took the plunge and went to my first ballroom (voguing) class in Van Nuys. I for sureeee felt like an ugly duckling and a fish out of water. But the instructor reassured me/the group “you guys seem really stressed trying to get it down, calm down.”

This is the second learning how to dance experience after my affair with belly dancing, which proves quite useless unless you are in a dance troupe. I asked my grandparents when would i ever even use belly dancing to which D*n*a, replied “the bedroom 🤨.” Ballroom seems so much more accessible and free form, and I think a good way to connect the mind-body-spirit in a way I can actually use that is really fucking fun.

My knees feel the burn, my thighs feel the burn, my a$$ feels the burn. I haven’t felt this level of sore since my HS cross fit level gym class. But it’s like a good burn. Although I definitely had to make an awkward schlep up the stairs at my work today. I’m going to try to practice my hand movements bc I’m still very much at a novice level and not the rave-boy-wearing-led-gloves-i-saw-once-level.

Hope you enjoyed my rambling, here are more shoes I’d like to buy once the check I cashed after 9pm on Friday clears

👁👄👁

STOMP STOMP

Kisses to whoever is reading xx Cheers!

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