Well. Guess what? The party crasher showed up on Saturday, day 70. If you don't know what I’m talking about, you're fortunate. If you're fortunate and curious, please refer to my last post. This is what manifesting is like - you have to be careful so as to not manifest some shit you don't want. Andrea and I spent Thanksgiving on the “northern neck” of Virginia, which is where is the part of Virginia where our cottage is located. We did our grocery shopping in Richmond and the

Another post, heaping with vulnerability and real talk coming up. Turn back now if you’re afraid…. Because the first thing we are going to discuss is my period. It’s been 69 days since that asshole showed up - shattering my previous record of 51 days. I’m 51 and 51 is the average age of menopause in the US. I long to be average when it comes to menopause. I’m sick of this shit. Seriously. FORTY years of this is enough. Every time I go to the bathroom, I fear this asshole will

I haven’t been writing much - not here, online. I’ve been taking information in - processing it, learning, integrating. I bought this journal… My fiftieth year was a ride. It was much like the time back in 2016 when Andrea and I went to the Blue Hill Fair in Maine. I had bought tickets for the rides and got on the Tilt-a-Whirl, where I got my gondola spinning faster and faster. There was nothing to do but surrender to the ride and its dizzying pace. At last, the ride slowed,

Last Tuesday, I began my pilgrimage to Kripalu in western Massachusetts. I drove to DC and spent the night there to catch my non-stop...