on fireplace etiquette, universe induced panic, and your next quick read
also a collection of desserts that make me swoon
OMG YOU’RE HERE
While I am excited and delighted by the 100+ new subscribers that have joined in the last week or so, I am also now stuck in a loop of trying to be Martha Stewart level perfect but it’s not happening. It’s like I’m in the kitchen messing with the meringue while the table isn’t even set and the doorbell is ringing, and oh my god they’re here. The guests are here.
Come in!
I dried an entire king size duvet cover in front of a fireplace in less than an hour.
Please understand what this means for your aging face. If you don’t you may not be my target audience but I’ll spell it out for you anyway. Happy, cozy warm house equals tight, dry, raisin face. If you need even more explanation: less sitting your ass directly on the hearth and more chunky sweater and wool sock combos. Less pumping the heat to 73 degrees and more humidifiers in every room. And for the love of all things youthful, if you need to plop yourself directly in front of the fireplace because you want to close your eyes, feel the heat on your cheekbones and pretend that it’s not almost winter, do slather your face in a thick cream first. I love this balm for doing just that.
I don’t always cry in public but when I do it’s in front of 20 year olds.
Last week on my drive to class I was inundated by angel numbers. A 777 on the plate in front of me, a 555 on the address to the right. Another combo of 7’s and a BB to the left. The triplets and couplets of numbers and letters felt like a comforting reminder from The Universe that I was on the right path. It was a good thing too because I was nervous to go. I’m afraid that I will not prepare well enough and become too hungry to function in an evening class. This has never happened to me anywhere, ever before and yet the possibility is there.
As I got closer and closer to campus I noticed more and more repetition. I started to feel like I had been reading the signals wrong and the numbers were not a sign that I was going where I needed to go (to be safe and protected and in good favor of the powers that be). Instead, The Universe was showing me that I needed to be on the alert because something was about to happen. That something was certainly death and if not by hunger, then by clumsy pedestrian, faulty brakes, or a very surprising stroke. Turning around felt like the obvious choice but through my extensive ocd therapy I knew that my train of thought was rooted in magical thinking. The logical thing to do was continue en route to class without looking for or expecting danger.
By the time I got to campus and had parked my car in the structure I still had the feeling that maybe I was special and The Universe was talking to me in a numerical language only I could understand. But since I hadn’t run anyone over in my car, my brakes didn’t go out, and as far as I knew I hadn’t died, that meant I was wrong about the danger and the numbers meant I was On The Right Path. Obviously. So I paid the meter and got in the elevator. I usually expect to get stuck in there but the numbers were good so I didn’t think twice about it.
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What the numbers couldn’t predict was that my anxiety about whether or not the numbers meant everything or nothing at all would linger in my body even after I’d stopped thinking about it. What the numbers didn’t tell me was that the hyper vigilance I reserved for driving had transferred to the experience of my vision, and that every bob of my head would lead to a bounce in my sight and I would attribute that to vertigo. What the numbers didn’t warn me about was the way this vertigo would give me the sensation that the walls were moving around me and that it would feel much like my postpartum period, when I was so unsure of myself and my mind that one day while taking my baby for a walk in her stroller I looked up at the sky to see the towering trees and was unable to tell if the trees were swaying or not, sending me into a months long questioning of my reality.
I tried three times to go to class, walking in and out of Burke Hall. I took deep breaths in the perimeter of the hallway and when that didn’t work, stepped outside for fresh air. I debated taking the stairs or the elevator, not sure which one would cause the most anxiety. Was it better to panic alone in the stairwell and get out of breath, or take the elevator and risk feeling off balance? There was no right answer. On my last try I thought about what it would be like to feel these feelings in my body, what it would be like to let them wash over me even though they were uncomfortable. Had it been a better day I would have said fuck it and taken them with me, and they would have left as quickly as they’d come. ButI felt my heartbeat start to thump in my chest. I noticed the walls and how the lines in the tile made me dizzy. I wondered if the trees had really been moving.
My decent into panic was enough to send me as fast as I could towards the exit. I got to the elevator and jammed my finger into the call button. As I tapped my foot in front of the doors, a group of students fell into place beside me. They had trunks, and lights, and boxes, and cameras. If I weren’t so hurried to leave I would have been compelled to ask them what project they were working on. But I was hurried so I pressed the call button a couple more times. The doors opened and I was the first one inside. Two girls followed after me and then held the door open while the rest of the group decided who was going to join them. I brought my hands to my neck and felt the heat coming up from my sweater.
To my embarrassment I started crying and asked them not impolitely to please hurry up because I was literally having a panic attack, like right now, so can we please go down. They looked at me, eyes wide at seeing a grown woman in tears, so I said, hope it’s not contagious and wiped my face. I laughed. They laughed. It was awkward. I cried all the way home and tried not to look for anymore signs from The Universe, at least not numerical ones.
Anyway, here is an article about how the creator of angel numbers says they are bullshit.
i finished this book in three days and i think you will too
If you like books that go fast and make you want to stay up until midnight to see what happens, I have the book for you. The Vaster Wilds by bestselling author Lauren Groff, was passed along to me by a mom at school. It’s about a young woman who flees an early settlement in the americas and has to survive on her own in the woods with nothing but her wits, a tin cup, and a lice infested coverlet made of some kind of animal. At first glance, and then second glance, and third glance I wasn’t interested but I like this mom and wanted to have something to talk to her about so I started to read. And then I couldn’t stop. It’s gross. It’s sad. It’s inspiring. There’s no dialogue. It’s the story you didn’t know you wanted because of the beautiful prose, the shocking details, and a reminder of just what people can do when they are pushed to their limits.
before you go…
a collection of jello desserts






These are the jello salads my heart wanted to make but instead settled for “sheet pan” style 😩🫶🏻
Happy holidays Windsor! The universal panic attack is so damn relatable I could cry 😭 Hope you are well