Wingless, Thus Silent
August 31, 2017, 9:46 pm
Filed under: Uncategorized


I was in an antique store, glossing over vintage books when I came across an old illustrated insect field guide. I gently flipped the pages and marveled at how science can become art simply with the invention of a camera.

One figure in particular, the ant, caught my eye.

It wasn’t the extraordinary detail of the illustration. It was actually a pretty basic drawing. Three black spots with legs. My Tiny Human could make an ant using her small fingerprints.

It was the line used underneath to describe it.

Lasius niger. Black Garden Ant.

Wingless thus silent.

Wingless. Thus silent.

For some reason that line stayed in my mind and started to spin webs of ideas of how the world really works around us.

Is it true that the only ones who actually get voices in this life are the elevated and superior in mobility ones?

Sometimes it feels like it.

Sometimes it is easy to feel like an ant. I drive a used Kia Sportage. I buy my clothes second hand. I have nothing great to speak of about my life that deeply impacts the world as a whole. An ant that walks a certain line each day, does work, works with the common interest of the other ants, and walk the same line the next day. Quietly.


Who am I, after all, to think that my voice is greater than anyone else’s? Why should I be heard? There are people out there

people with wings

who are already making so much noise.


These people float high above us and it would be amazing to say that they all say wonderful things with the gift they have been given; that they make a beautiful song, necessary noise that changes the world for the better.

But it seems lately that those who are being given the power to be heard above everyone else are the very ones that need to be silent.

Do not tell me that I am an ant.

Do not tell an ant that they must be silent.

Do not fill the world with the knowledge that to lack wings is to lack a voice.

Tell me that to have a voice is to grow wings. 

Tell me that if I want my own voice heard I have to elevate myself.

Tell me that if I want to see something change in my lifetime, I have to float to the top and make my own noise.

Wingless thus silent is not the way any world should work.

Wingless thus brave.

Wingless thus working on it.

Wingless thus persisting.

There is more than one way to fly, dear readers.


Nightmares about Mean Girls
August 22, 2017, 12:27 pm
Filed under: Uncategorized

Ever have one of those dreams where you have it, wake up for a minute, and the when you fall back asleep it’s still there in your head happening?


I just had that happen.

And it was about mean girls.


The over under of the dream was that I was older middle school/younger high school–which is when I was bullied–, and that I was at some sort of sleep over camp. The original girls in my life weren’t there but my adult friends were. The friends I have come to know and love.

One of them in particular pushed me so far emotionally that my mother had to be called twice to come for me, which of course then caused even more girls to make fun of me.

When I was in middle school I dressed funny. I wore baggy pants, and bright colors with stickers all over my face. I once wore a beanie baby on top of my head all day and the next day two popular girls had started a rumor that I was a lesbian.

Girls are fucking mean.

They manipulate you. They gaslight you. They make you feel like you are wanted and then they ignore you. They make you feel like they care about you but then go radio silent for days on end.

No body really talks about how mean girls are. We send our daughters into school and tell them to be kind to everyone around them.

I was.

I was kind to everyone around me and I was bullied so hard in middle school that I would hide in the nurses office and pretend there was something extremely wrong with me. One time I was so convincing they took me to the ER to have my appendix taken out and when they did the ultrasound saw that it was not infected.

I know every single one of the girls that made my life a living hell at one point. Almost all of them have turned into lovely people whom I have no issue speaking with, but some I still keep an arm length away.

Sometimes mean girls turn into mean women, and I am very wary of this.

I am sending my daughter to the 1st grade in 6 days. Last year, in Kindergarten, she won “Most Thoughtful” and it is true. She has always been the kid in the classroom who wants to make sure everyone is happy and that she is pleasing to them.

I don’t know if 1st grade is too early for mean girls. I remember mine really started in 5th grade–that dissection of cliques–but maybe it’s time to at least give her a general chat that the only person she has to please in that room and take care of is herself.



So, yes, Tiny Human: The world can be a magical place and I never want you to lose that sense of innocence and wonder but as you progress down these hallways in this building I cannot be in with you, I need you to know that it is ok to protect your heart above all else.

The damage done to mine during those years have, unfortunately, become irreversible. But I’ll be damned if I let my little pixie of a child be eaten up by mean fucking girls.

Ariadne 1&2
August 15, 2017, 11:30 pm
Filed under: Uncategorized


I do not know how long I have been sitting here

Olive trees loom around me, providing shade for certain parts of the day

but other parts, I burn.

Strange Cypress trees rise from the ground like silent sentries.

Keeping him in

Keeping me out

I sit here.

Waves of wind rustle the leaves and carry with it a far off sound.

Inhuman sounds

Human sounds

I cannot tell anymore.

My knees are raw from sitting on them

the skin, cracked and bleeding

sand working its way under my skin every time I shift my weight.

My  hands are empty.

They once held a wooden spindle

that never seemed to run out of thread.

My hands grew tired

and my heart grew heavy

as the days went by and I remained here

in wide open spaces

sitting on my knees

and waiting for him.

I sobbed and wailed,

pressed the spindle up against my little body

felt the sharp edges of it pierce my clothing

and then my skin

and then it disappeared entirely.

My hands are empty,

the thread being pulled from me now.

My own body.

From the softness of my belly.

I am no longer an anchor.

I am tethered to him.

Like an umbilical cord.

Like a stream between two bodies of water.

He churns and I feel everything.

Every step

away from me

towards a fight that might drag me along.

At least he gets steps

At least he gets fights

I do not like these wide open spaces anymore

There is too much air. There are too many trees.

I would feel safer in the tight walls of a labyrinth.

I do not know how long I have been sitting here.





I do not know how long I have been sitting here.

There is a sudden tug on the thread coming from my belly,

Like a marionette

I stand up

Grab the thread with both of my hands and try to wind it back into me

I have one job

My whole life I have had one job

To reel in the thread when it was time

It is time

I am thrown side to side

I am forced to dig in my heels

To keep from being dragged into the fight

He has found the monster

He is battling the monster

I have one job

To lead him back out

To me

I do not know how long I have been sitting here

The violence does not seem to last very long

Suddenly the thread is very still

The air feels very thin


As if we are all afraid to breathe

I feel a slight tug on my thread

He has done it

He has won his battle and now may come back to me

I tug on the thread to let him know that I am still here

I do not know how long I have been sitting here

But I am still here

I feel the thread start to grow slack

It is no longer unraveling from somewhere deep inside of me

It is coming towards me

Through the mazes upon mazes

Through the great labyrinth

I wait for hours, centuries

I lost track of time a long time ago

I see him, then

I see him emerge with the sand swirling around him and block caked on his knuckles

His face

He does not see me

I wave a hand

I run towards him

He walks right by me

Pushes me down back into the sand

“What is wrong, Theseus?” I wail at him

He turns his head, my thread still in his hand

And suddenly I know the answer to my own question

Theseus is dead

This is the monster

And he is dragging me around by the thread

L.L Bean Fall/Winter line 2017 (that probably no one cares about except me)
August 14, 2017, 5:08 pm
Filed under: Uncategorized

I don’t know guys. I just spend like $25 at a thrift store buying my fall clothes, but let’s be honest…some of this stuff is going to end up being a “treat yo self” moment as my birthday grows near.



ll bean 1

Signature Cotton Fisherman Tunic Sweater, Colorblock

$100 and freaking $9

But I don’t know guys. I love America, but I think I might love this sweater more.



Signature Cotton Fisherman Sweater, Colorblock

A mere $99 for this one which is a much better investment than this one because while most people will look at this and think fall sports like rugby and football, I’ll be wearing it by the fire supporting Quidditch. Ravenclaw? Maybe? Yes. I would.






Lightweight Wool-Blend Scarf, Plaid


I have about 38 plaid scarves and blanket scarves. But I do not have an OLIVE GREEN ONE. I bet you don’t either. Why don’t we go halfies on this one and share it? Great.




llbean hat

Women’s Ultrawarm Bomber Hat


I’ll be honest. I want this hat so I can wear it and pretend to be Ygritte from Game of Thrones. Can’t unsee it now, can you?





Road Trip Graphic Hoodie Pullover


If you know enough to see that this is a wicked good hoodie then you probably need this hoodie, bub.




bean jacket

Traverse Water-Resistant Hooded Shirt Jacket Misses Regular

ON SALE FOR $84.99

This is absolutely the cutest utility and rain proof jacket I have ever seen, not even just on L.L Bean. This is an amazing deal on a jacket that is usually closer to $100. Put down the one from H&M and invest in your clothing.




blue coat

Ultrawarm Coat, Long


This isn’t a new item on their list for this season but I have to share it because I have been lusting after this coat for years. YEARS. It also comes in, like, normal colors like black and white but OH MAN I WANT IT IN BLUE SO BAD. I can’t justify almost $300 for a coat like this while living in the south, BUT IF YOU CAN please go buy it in homage to my current humidity situation.





Women’s Bar Harbor Boots, Tall


These are usually sold out in, like, 80% of the sizes but one day they will be mine. THEY WILL BE MINE. I love how utilitarian they look compared to the standard Bean Boot but still absolutely adorable. Good for just a slushy, snowy, gross day. Or, I mean, a Wednesday.



Ok, 3 people who read this all the way through: That’s my yearly round up of the L.L Bean fall/winter line for this year. Yes, I know these things seemed over priced, but let me tell you–I wore a Bean rain jacket all over the UK this spring and it did not fail me once. It even kept my bum dry. So. There’s that.

What I’m saying is that sometimes you can buy your clothes from a thrift store, but somethings are worth the investment.

Treat yo self.