I am going to answer this in typical Theo fashion: in a round about way.
I grew up lonely in a crowd of people who overlooked me so thoroughly, so completely. They never seemed to see me. Instead, they saw how I could be useful to them. It wasn’t until I was older that I realized I came from a household that never truly had a chance in hell to be whole or balanced or not broken.
I am the child of several very complicated people. Flawed, broken, human people who made mistakes and had their small victories. Whether I want to or not, I live on in the wake of their deaths, some of them. For the living, I strive on in hopes of seeing them again soon.
I blog because I am a fantastically flawed human being who strives to leave the world a little better in their wake. I blog so maybe, someday, I won’t be forgotten as soon as I return to dust. I blog to be seen, hear, and see and hear others in turn.
I blog for myself, for you and any other person I can call friend.
I’m reading The Girl Who Chased the Moon by Sarah Addison Allen.
She’s one of my favorite authors of what I would consider soft urban fantasy and/or feminine fiction. It’s not hard core or gritty; no leather clad ménage à trois sex scenes or obsessive vampires. But soft magics found in the ordinary world. Characters who are wisened crones that give away little every day objects or women with broken hearts that bake cakes to call loved ones home.
Much like another favorite author of mine, fellow Jew Alice Hoffman, Sarah Addison Allen likes making magic part of the every day.
Invent a holiday! Explain how and why everyone should celebrate.
Invent a holiday? Okay.
It’s called “Readmormass”.
It starts with you spending a cold, quiet day, like the first Monday of December, reading something from your TBR (To Be Read) pile.
You have to sleep in at least half an hour on Readmormass. Just enough to get some extra rest and wake feeling refreshed.
You hydrate, go about your regular morning rituals, take your meds, break your fast, and pull out your special Readmormass comfy clothes. A nice soft pair of sweatpants or leggings and your favorite soft shirt. I favor leggings and a hoodie I permanently liberated from my partner’s closet.
Readmormass is also a gift holiday! Find a used copy, if you can, of your favorite book and gift it to a friend. They can gift you their favorite book in exchange. You can spend time with your favorite reading friend or spend Readmormass alone.
But, wait, there’s more!
And then… you read! Read a paperback or hardcover or listen to an audiobook or scroll through an ebook. Consume your media how you wish to for Readmormass. Munchies and snacks are optional, but always welcome!
When it’s lunchtime, take a leg stretch walk around the house. Eat something small and light, or continue snacking! Then head back to reading after about a half hour. Don’t strain your eyes!
If you’re not ready to read more, throw in a load of laundry and take a nap!
Once evening falls, and you have to turn on the lights, call your reading bestie. You know who I mean. If they’re not over already, due to being all the way in another state, video call them.
You then spend an hour or more together ranting about how much you love/loathe/can’t put down the book to said friend over a simple dinner of meats, cheeses, fruits, and veggies with some crusty bread. Video chatting counts! The point is to rave about the book of choice, be it positive ranting about amazing writing or pointing out plot-holes the size of Saskatchewan with your book bestie.
After dinner? Some hot, milky tea and more reading.
Fondue, for a dessert course, if you’re one of the bougie types. Regular oven-broiled s’mores or some sugar cookies if you’re a delightful plebeian like me.
Maybe you made a decent dent in that book. Maybe you didn’t. Maybe you stay up to finish reading it because you’re like me and devour books when the mood strikes. In any case, you read! And ate! And talked with a dear one!
What aspects of your cultural heritage are you most proud of or interested in?
Most of my heritage is generally Jewish. Or a blackjack dealer. At least on my mom’s side of the equation.
The paternal unit has the communication skills the gods gave a block of Parmesan cheese. So I have no clue about his heritage. Other than he lives in Pennsylvania.
Share a story about the furthest you’ve ever traveled from home.
That’s a tough one. I’ve gone to New Orleans back in 2009? But normally when I’m traveling somewhere far, it’s pretty much to relocate. From Chicago to Florida, Florida to Texas and then back to Florida, and another round of the Florida to Chicago hop ended me in Indiana this time around.
So I guess the farthest I’ve ever travelled from home was the 09 spring break trip. And that was… let me look it up… 773 miles, give or take.
This blog started as me ranting, being pissed off and angry and a whole bunch of other emotions, at being diagnosed bipolar. But I realized, slowly, that it wasn’t an emotional death sentence.
Well, since I spent three years in high school learning architecture and drafting and a decade obsessed with green architecture and tiny/hyper-efficient housing, it would be green. Green, eco-friendly, walkable, and littered with edible fruit trees and community gardens.
The hesitation of the wind before a rainfall, or the silence of an undisturbed snowy morning. Most of my peace comes from nature. Or running water, in its many forms.
Postmark Wonderland 