Gift wrapping grand champion

Mainstream art can’t properly address social problems. I’m reading about economic shock doctrine and disaster capitalism while working for a finance guru who consults for the World Bank. All of these realities are unrelated in this context.

Has anybody here seen my old friend Bobby Seale?

I’m just like Beyonce: all independent and surviving and crazy in love. I called my Norwegian grandma to tell her about modern Scandinavian romance. I have a refrigerator magnet from her that explains, “Ystävä”. That seems to be Finnish for friendship. She doesn’t remember anything I say, but every time we talk, she tells me how she almost married the wrong man - not my grandpa, in other words - and that I have all the time in the world. She was 26 when they wed in the 1940s. Grandpa was somewhere a bit past 30. They dated for three months, were engaged for three more, and married for 54 years.

My other grandpa has been getting up every day before 6:30 and walking two miles (best time: 38 minutes). He is 81. Two weeks ago, my mother called with the sudden news of his impending but somewhat unexpected heart surgery. They did five bypasses and sent him home on his own this week. He still does several daily walks now. When we are together at Christmas, he wants to tell me in person about his healing miracle.

People ignore Buy Nothing Day so they can get more ugly clothes and screeching toys at the mall. Next weekend, we will road trip to Connecticut to see a film about the shopocalypse. I’m not perfect, but I take great pride in wearing my grandmother’s shirts and housing her knickknacks.

When I get inspired, sometimes I make something I’m actually proud of.

love during wartime

I am now an INFJ. I used to be an ISTJ. I love the new me, and I adore the growth of my mid-20s. Everything fits now, and I suspect it only feels more snug the older you get.

Strangers recently asked me to hang out, with an incentive promise of free lip balm. Thanks, Web2.0.

Soon, it will be time to briefly live in a pyramid and visit a big sexual tiger mansion. I’m also looking forward to Reykjavik. I don’t go to fake awards shows, and I’m not to be referred to as anyone’s “GF”.

Some mornings, I get up early with the cat, and we sit on the kitchen floor while I help her eat slowly, and I feel like I’m still only on the edge of the beginning of everything. My body is finding balance, but my energies have not yet. I always hate the holidays, but time on the couch, in my multiple homes, feels right this time around. I’m hitting a birthday landmark, but I want few gifts aside from the usual media requests and help paying the bills. Mostly, I have all I could want. I am a lucky woman.