It's likely that my loyal followers have placed bets on my first drunk blog. Well, it's your lucky day, those of you who put money on January 19 between 11 and 11:30 pm. Booya!
This long weekend was one of those weekends littered with annoying problems/life issues that only get more annoying when you realize that you're wasting time being annoyed with stupid shit when people in Haiti don't know where their next meal is coming from. That kind of annoying. What the fuck do I have to be worried about?
Well, I'm gonna say nothing. At 11:19PM January 19, I've got a whole lot of nothing to be concerned about. I'm perfectly inebriated after a delightful night with one of my BFFs. I've got my kitty cat. Seinfeld is on. I just talked to my husband, and let's face it, he's the coolest fucking guy on the planet. Man, he's cool. Today's my mom's birthday, and she's witty and smart and beautiful. Bottom line: I've got a ton to be thankful for.
When Bryan and I get down and grumpy, as we were for part of the time this weekend for various bullshit reasons, I make us list out things we're thankful for. Our pets always make the list. Our home. Each other. Lately, knitting has been a big one for me. Acupuncture for Bryan. And how cool is that?
As I approach thirty, which I've done with a lot of anxiety admittedly, I think about what a teenage me would have said about the 30-year-0ld me. I think in some ways she would have disappointed. Disappointed that I wasn't a big actress or an accomplished novelist, but let's face it: though teenage Heather rocked in her own teenage ways, she was fucking stupid in a lot of ways. She was great at taking long walks and making time for friends, but she worried a lot, and she didn't get the beauty of the moment, and dare I say, a stitch in time. Ha! (More later on the Tao of Knitting...) And that's what I'm focusing on now. I'm better at understanding the beauty of the moment, though maybe I can't always savor it. Shit. Is it possible that I'm as happy as I aspired to be back then?
Totally, dude.
Who am I?
The Anarchist Homemaker learns the crafts of her foremothers while improvising a bit on her own. She's a DIYer, anti-consumerist with a weakness for new clothes and fine dining. Yes, the Anarchist Homemaker is in search of what it means to feel at home in her house and her own contradictory Self.