Last weekend I was reminded of my former obsession with Austin, Texas and all things Americana. Since that night, I have been taking a deep dive into the sounds of my life in the early to mid-2000s. It’s bringing me back, in good ways and bad. My memories of that time in my life are supercharged with pain and confusion, and joy and recovery. Does that sound like a lot? It should, because it was. In many ways I feel like my life is a soundtrack on repeat.

Well, the time has come for me to begin yet another new chapter. My mother once asked, “How many times can you reinvent yourself?” I’m not sure I have an answer for that but because I love cats, I’m going to say I have at least nine attempts. I wish I was the kind of person whose mid-life crisis would compel her to date someone twenty years younger than she, or pick up skydiving. But alas, that is not how I roll. Tomorrow I begin a journey to obtain a Master’s of Science in Health Leadership, and I’ll be doing this while holding down a full-time job.

Although I have been heads down for a while, it hasn’t kept me from collecting dating stories. Two things have remained constant since 2020: Covid-19 is not going away and neither are horrific online dating experiences. Maybe 2022 will bring much needed change. If not, I’ll continue to try and try again.

I was not in a great head space when I last wrote. It turns out that my mind knew something was wrong before my body began to show the evidence. This experience does illustrate to me how profoundly connected the mind is to the body. Somehow, my mind was showing symptoms days before my body decided to clue me in. Fortunately, a friend brought me to see Hamilton during this time. I was reminded me that it’s possible to find joy and resilience in the midst of misery. Even my own show must go on.

Before I get into the topic du jour, I promised to share the story of the insurance fraud crime ring. If reading about tow truck scams isn’t your thing, please skip it. What I really wanted to talk about today is a work project for a women’s health company, focused on supporting the “fertile woman.” I don’t even know where to start with the ways in which this just feels wrong.

In my last post, I said it’s quite telling that my last partner is the best product on the shelf. But, the market is totally fucked for any woman who wants more than the best of the worst. That’s somehow simultaneously funny and so damn sad.

I have written a lot lately about finding the silver lining in things. Today, I’m writing to tell you I have lost my battle with anger management. I’m pissed off and not afraid to say it. Should I continue trying to hold myself up to some high standard that I’m starting to believe doesn’t exist? Or should I accept that ambiguity is better than anarchy?

Last week I endured a course of metronidazole that made me feel like death. I had a flare of endometriosis and ended up with bacterial overgrowth. One positive outcome of this experience is that I’m no longer afraid to talk about it, and I learned that I’m far from the only person who has experienced what I not-so-fondly refer to as “angry vagina syndrome.” I’m recovering and continuing to take steps to invest in myself. Last weekend I saw a house for sale that made my heart skip a beat. The small and romantic urban home for one might be in the cards for my now happy vag and me.

Gluten avoidance has been touted as the panacea for everything from bloating and brain fog to depression, arthritis, and weight loss. If you don’t have Celiac Disease or even Non-Celiac Gluten Sensitivity, but you’re still living a gluten free life or plan to, I’d like to share my journey to accept that I must be gluten free. I have done the journey for you – no need for you to repeat it on your own.