162. The Week in Me
girl what the hell do I write about
Thank you for reading my piece published last week on my CPTSD:
I wrote this sometime in April and have never looked at it again. I don’t want to. I feel dramatically different than I did when I wrote it. I’m not sure if it was getting my trauma tattoo, or clearing one year’s anniversary of said sexual trauma, or the 75mg of Sertraline raging inside me or what, but I feel more like myself. My old self, who I took extravagantly for granted.
When I left my abusive ex in 2018, I often remarked that I would only ever be 95% healed. I saw it as a healing half-full. 95 percent for what had been the greatest and worst love of my life, a man who in time I realized reminded me of no one more than my mother? 95 percent is pretty fucking great. This was before Jo Rowling was unsheathed as a fucking ghoul towards trans women and an odious supporter of abusive figures: I called that relationship I left my lightning scar.
Now, after the dissolution of my marriage and the trauma that sent my husband running, I didn’t feel in the first year that I’d get to 90. I didn’t see it as half-full. I felt I’d never be full again. 65, I’d wager. Maybe 63 - not a passing grade. I don’t know if I’ll hit 90. I’d like to.
Maybe I’ll get to 85. I’ll take it.
I am looking (DESPERATELY) for your guest essays as I just don’t know what to write lately. This happens when I heal - there is less to bleed from the pen. I will continue to share with you all what I have been watching and attending, but please pitch me something you can write or WE can write together, and let me know in the comments what subject lines will entice you to open this thang.
I AM doing something I am very excited about - I’m hosting the second annual GAY DOG PARADE in Hoboken on June 7th! Bring your kids, dogs, and friends in your rainbowest regalia. This is an event I look forward to all year. My parents even come with my sister Bailey (who is a dog). Come!
For now, I sprained my ankle (and my voice) the night of the Beyonce concert. Not from shimmying too hard. I wish. That is much cooler than the truth, which is that my ankle shot out like Zendaya’s knee in Challengers about 30 feet from my apartment.
My outfit was cute. Damn the rain:
Love you all. Thank you for reading, commenting, sharing, supporting, enduring.
Also someone please adopt this baby:
To read:
My niece Anita was featured on
! Anita is the (elegant) daughter of frequent friend of the newsletter and also my life, :
“When it ended, what I struggled with most was feeling like someone who I let so close to the whole of me could misunderstand me so deeply. That when I gave her the opportunity to see me she looked away. That she chose a life without me in it. There’s a world where I took it so personally I shut it down for everyone, refusing vulnerability in all of the friendships that I hadn’t grandfathered in, but instead it encouraged me to open up wider, bring everyone closer.” -
I do not show the chickens Ms. Rachel but I may start leaving her on the TV when I’m not home to keep them company, because she is a wonderful person. I am so grateful that she uses her staggering platform to discuss the plight of Palestinian children:
“I plate french fries and count my failures.“ -
From my cousin Maria:
I’m not much of a traveler, I prefer to go out every night in the city and then come home to my babies, but I have wanted to visit Cuba since watching Michael Moore’s Sicko.
got to experience May Day in Cuba and I am so happy for her!
Can you tell I am clearing out old emails as a form of spring cleaning? Also in The Atlantic, “What ‘Silent Night’ Misunderstands About Christmas: Depictions of a quiet, peaceful manger scene miss the point.” Both political and personal and poignant. Sent to a lovely liberal Christian friend of mine as well.
To watch:
Baby Corn.
This is literally just Simone:
This is literally just Lugosi:
Actually my babies:
Various and sundry:
sent me this and one of you needs to set me up with this man, for the culture:
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From Rockee. For fans of La Dispute and soup alike:
My birthday twin Willem DaFREAK:
From Jess: LITTLE RICHARD.
Me when I wear my thigh-high boots (I have a very short torso):
I hope you all feel like the silent “p” in raspberry this coming week and beyond:
Love you leggy bitches,
TG
My Anita is mentioned!!!! I hear you very loud and clear about the guest essay submissions. I have a quiet, gloomily-weathered weekend ahead of me and I would love to cook something up for you to thank you for being an amazing friend!!!
Indiana Jones movie chat and Gecko/Bones Museum visit - say when.