BRIDGERTON 2.04 | Victory

These days, I’m full of nostalgia, but what else is new? Living in memories that I call up, or that come unbidden. Dancing to L7 in A.F.’s room, flirting with N., A.F. and A.L. stoned, sitting in the corner with the beanbag chairs and lava lamps, watching us dance, the dark wood paneling and the dust notes dancing in the afternoon light. All of us, later, doodling and scrawling lines of poetry on each other’s jeans. Driving around with Filia, singing along to Guns n’ Roses and Red Hot Chili Peppers. Take me down to the Paradise City, where the grass is green and the girls are pretty; Me and my me and my me and my friends. Brood X during their last emergence, seventeen years ago—Cincinnati in June, the cicada’s mating cries, B. throwing their molted husks at me, the heartache and humidity. And oh god, how was 2004 seventeen years ago? Open mic nights at Husby’s; that time R. was up and started playing the riff for “Sweet Emotion” and then realized he didn’t know the lyrics, and I said I did, so he called me up to sing for him and some stranger at the bar said “you need a scarf!” and tossed me one, and I tied it around the mic and did my best Steven Tyler impression. Talk about things and nobody cares. The park in Milwaukee, the abandoned textile factory—the wandering Scottish boy with his fiddle, the black swans, crowns of wildflowers, thunderstorms.

These days. There was a shooting in Kenosha over the weekend, and you know you live in a fucked up place when the fact that it appears to have been a targeted shooting rather than a random mass shooting actually comes as a relief.

These days. I’ve been feeling bad about myself, which often manifests as feeling bad about my body, my looks. When I’m happier or at least engaged enough in other things, I’m usually fairly body-neutral, but right now, every time I look at myself in the mirror I think: Ugh. So I’m trying ways to make my body and my self feel better. Playing dress-up, even if I’m staying at home (which is obviously what I do most days). Trying to eat lots of fresh fruits and vegetables, and less bread, but also not beating myself up when I snack on a croissant smeared with Nutella. I have a new morning ritual. Before I sit down at my desk, I do some yoga and stretching, and then dance around to a song that makes me feel joyful. Lately, there’s been a lot of Nina Simone in the rotation—mostly “Feeling Good” and “Ain’t Got No/I Got Life.”

These days, I don’t sleep well. My house is a wreck. But I’ve got the press up and running again. These days. I’m restless. What else is new? I miss wandering. I’m thinking of taking up geocaching. I drink too much coffee in the morning, have a wee dram of scotch in the evening. I spend a lot of time sitting by the window, looking out at the slowly budding trees, listening to the birds and trains, writing poems about birds and trains. What else is new.