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horizontal with lila

101. do high school rules still apply: horizontal with chosen family (3 of 4)

in episodes on 26/11/19

This is Jillian, giving a presentation at CMX.


To listen to this episode, click the saucy redhead on the peach background, and become a patron of the horizontal arts…

Jillian:  So my friendships growing up: I was really lucky. Like e— especially in contrast to my sister, who, she was like quote unquote “popular,” but that meant that, girls were mean to her, and she like literally had, like ongoing battles with girls in our high school. That like, I would see. And, I’m so happy I didn’t absorb that that’s how women treat each other.

 

***

 

Jillian:  One of my biggest fights with Sarah was because I really wanted to ask this boy to a school dance, and she wanted to ask him. And she ended up being like, “Okay fine, you ask him.” But she was hoping that I would, of course, just not ask him, ‘cause it was clearly hurting her. But I really wanted to go to a school dance with a boy, because no boys had ever asked me to a school dance, and it was a Sadie Hawkins, which meant I got to ask the boy! (laughs)

Lila:  Yeah!

Jillian:  And I was like, “I have to take this opportunity! I need to go to a dance with a boy!” And that— like I remember like, she cried! Because I did that. And—

Lila:  Did he say yes?

Jillian:  Well this is the hilarious part — or not, was not hilarious to me at the time — was that he said yes, and then a day later came back to me and said that he wanted to go with somebody better.

Lila:  Who was not Sarah either.

Jillian:  Who was not Sarah either. I think it was Mackenzie Brennan. But like, that was what I got, for like, choosing, like, my own selfish wants over my friend’s, like…

Lila:  Feelings?

Jillian:  Feelings!

Lila:  And was that the lesson you took away from that?

Jillian:  I think that was. I didn’t really, learn that lesson at the time, I think. (laughs)

Lila:  Do you still now have these— wait, was it you who asked, “Do high school rules still apply?”

Jillian:  I don’t think so.

Lila:  No, that wasn’t you. Somebody, somebody asked me this, or, or posed this, ah, it was Lira. Lira posed this as a question: Do high school rules still apply? The rules being, that you can’t: go out with, have sex with, be in a relationship with, somebody that your friend has been, or wants to be, or is, in a relationship with?

 

***

 

Dennis:  I was recently giving a talk on the— this moment when I began to compare the mythology of myself to how I actually spent my time. And in this mythology for mysel— of myself, this mythology of myself, and for myself — I’m well-read, and well-traveled, and I have, you know, all these ideas for businesses I wanna start and build, and, I looked back after this decade and realized that was the 23 year-old me, that filled up notebooks. And had been well-traveled for… a teenager. But haven’t left North America, and certainly haven’t traveled almost anywhere in a decade. And I have piles of books that are unread, and I have, three close friends, who I talk to a quarter. And I have a family—

Jillian:  (laughs) Once a quarter!

Lila:  Wow.

Dennis:  I have a family who’s there for me if I need them, but I never ask them, and how I actually spend my time, is going to work, and spending time with, with my ex, and that’s about it. Like, I have spent 10 years, demonstrating to myself, that I’m a very different person than who I think I am.

 

***

 

Dennis:  I first encountered that — putting words and an expression to that feeling of isolation that I had in a loving relationship — when I heard Esther Perel talking about that, I think that she even mentions in her TED Talk, after that period of time when I was 23 and designing this for myself, I entered a relationship that would last almost 11 years. And in that time, I learned what I believed adulting was. Which was: you find your partner, and you move off to the suburbs, and you go to the gym sometimes and you go to work, and then 10 years passed, and I realized that I had seen some of my friends, maybe two or three of them, twice / three times a year. And, I knew a few people’s names at the CrossFit gym, and, my yoga instructor knew my name, so I was a part of that community, right? And. I didn’t feel a part of anything else. And I felt, completely socially isolated. Like I felt— and especially because all of my feelings of closeness and belonging and satisfaction were linked to a relationship— and a very— and a great one! Like, my ex is so loving, and such a wonderful woman and we had so many wonderful years together… and also it wasn’t enough. And also, at times that we were arguing, I had no one. And felt, like I didn’t belong anywhere, then. It was completely different than my experience growing up, with this open house filled with— my neighborhood. And with many adults present in my life, you know, throughout my mom’s friends and… then all throughout high school, I only had circles. So, it would be rare to be hanging out with one person; it was more likely that we were fitting more people than there were seatbelts in every car that we were ever in, to go on adventures, every day after school, and every weekend was just filled with… like my close friend-circles— even like, you know, there would often be someone who had to draw straws for the trunk, because we always had more people in every car, than, than car.



This is Jillian, in a pose after my own heart!

Hello my patron.

This episode resumes my four-episode arc with Jillian, anti-loneliness crusader, creator of The Joy List, author of Unlonely Planet & Dennis, Lifestyle Designer, Event Curator, and co-lead of Personal Development Nerds, her housemate, her chosen family, her brother.

In part one, episode 98. withhelds & unsaids, Jillian and I cleared the air after our cancelled sleepover event, I shared how I feel about Dennis, and we talked about the difference between being drawn to someone and being attracted to them, The Touch Gauntlet, safeporting, and distinguishing between sensual and sexual energy. Then, I made an erotic confession. One that’s still giving me a vulnerability hangover.

In part two, episode 99. indiana jones is my father, we discussed Dennis’s creative family tree, his communal roots, his mother’s indomitable matriarchal strength, his biological father who preferred not to be a father, the crush in kindergarten that lead to a bit of violence with a block, and his grade school infatuation with each of the girls in his class, in turn. We discussed passing the torch, becoming the patrons and matrons and caretakers of our families. Jillian presenced that she was feeling distant, and we grappled with my intentions for making our clearing part of the recording. We discussed having a good public image, the Wounded Healer syndrome, and the brief personal essay Jillian shares at the outset of every Joy List email, which often reveals something she is actively struggling with. And then Jillian shared the story of how she induced her parents to attend a weeklong family therapy retreat. I am in awe of that.

This is Dennis, and?

In this, part three, we delve into:

  • Jillian’s household growing up
  • that incident with the vibrator when she was 16
  • a sexual debut versus “losing your virginity”
  • Dennis’s high school work as a peer-to-peer Sex Educator
  • his biological brothers
  • the topography of our friendship lives
  • a fateful Sadie Hawkins dance
  • whether high school rules still apply
  • whatever happened to my lover Michael
  • & how Dennis used to rely entirely on his long-term relationship to get his intimacy needs met

With this installment of horizontal, I surpass 100 episodes (!).

Each month, my patrons inspire me to continue, and every time you reach out to let me know what an episode meant to you, I take it as a reminder that I am doing the right thing. Most of you know that I regularly vacillate between fiery motivation and the lack of desire to do anything at all, which is probably the shadow of my mother’s bipolar disorder on my psyche. The fluctuation has been particularly onerous this winter — or maybe it is every winter, and somehow I forget — but knowing that you are out there, knowing that you care for what I make this deeply… it stirs me.

Next week we’ll round out this 4-episode arc with Dennis & Jillian in episode 102, in which we talk friend breakups, whether anybody owes us anything, guilting, obligation, “it’s as though no time has passed” relationships, emotional aperture, Dennis-questions, may the better man win,  & cultivating erotic tension.

horizontal before the recording of this episode. Williamsburg, Brooklyn. October 2019


Until next week, I wish you the fortitude to make it through the Thanksgiving holiday and: someone to love, something purposeful to do, and something to look forward to. I’m looking forward to buying myself a onesie. Yep. That’s really what I’m looking forward to this holiday week. I’ll take joy where I can. And I hope you’ll do the same.

Come lie down with us again in Williamsburg, Brooklyn.

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102. you can’t have dibs on a person: horizontal with chosen family (4 of 4) »

Lila Donnolo

Lila Donnolo is an Intimacy Specialist. Tell Me More…

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horizontalwithlila

Actress. Writer. Podcaster. Lover. Intimacy Specialist … 70+ exclusive podcast episodes for you on Patreon!

Lila
“You make a selfie look like a Titian,” said a “You make a selfie look like a Titian,” said a playwright I admire, after a staged reading I performed in. 

(Thanks Richard Alfredo!)

I’m not the blushing kind, but, I think I blushed?

Before I started this series, way back in the glory days of 2013 (it was the innocent of times, I tell you), I was, well, kind of maybe sort of possibly a tid bit embarrassed by how many self-portraits I took? Nevermind the fact that artists have been their own medium since time immemorial. It’s different when you’re using a cell phone. Right? 

{WHO SAYS.}

I think of the great quote (had to look it up — it’s Chase Jarvis): 

“The best camera is the one you have with you.” 

I’ve never been a Hasselblad-chaser or anything. But I figured I should at least be using my mom’s old Minolta. For street cred. It’s from the 70s! It had an embroidered strap! The lens cap didn’t fit because the metal around the lens was dented! It still is! I still have it! It’s a bonafide film camera. You can feel that. Thing’s chonky. Vintage. Which means. That shit is heavy. I don’t want to carry it in my purse. It won’t even fit in half my purses! So. The best camera I had was my cell phone. It was always with me. 

(And when @thetravelingcreative Fiona taught me to wipe off the “grease filter” each time, it got even better. Fiona has taught me so many things, organizational wizardress that she is. Thanks Fiona!)

Read the rest of the essay (& see those bathroom portraits from 2016) on Substack! The link is in my bio, friend.
Summer & bae 1. Passport Photo Time! 2. She’s Summer & bae

1. Passport Photo Time!

2. She’s an interior decorator now, y’all! (Also, bae’s paintings are world-class! You could buy one!)

3. You can watch the sunset from this deck when you rent my apartment!

4. Last Day of Grief counseling at Suncoast Hospice, or as @mummybites called it, “graduation.”

5. Toastmasters supporting Toastmasters at @schoolcreativityinnovation ‘s immersive piece “Funeral for Someone You Didn’t Know”

6. Loralei Goes To The Beach!

7. A coupla lemons in downtown Safety Harbor

8. Whenever I see pictorial veggies I think of Tanja

9. Can you stand how gorgeous this retro candy apple fridge is?!!

10. This is Myrna.

11. Zach’s paintings in the kitchen!

12. WEIRD AL 

13. I repeat: WEIRD ALLLL!!!!!
The upper limits problem is a concept I learned fr The upper limits problem is a concept I learned from the book Conscious Loving. I tell people about this book. I recommend it to everyone. I buy it for friends. And of the entire book, the parts I continue to re-read are the passages about the upper limits.

The premise of the upper limits problem is this: at some point during our childhood, usually without realizing it, we made a decision about how good we are allowed to feel. We associated feeling good with, pretty much immediately, feeling bad. We were jumping for joy and babbling exuberantly and got told to keep it down; we brought home good grades and were told not to brag, etc. So at this point, most of us (not all of us, but honestly, probably the vast majority of us) created our own personal glass ceiling.

In the book, Kathlyn and Gay Hendricks put it this way: “Starting in childhood, most of us seem to put a lid on our positive energy in order to stay at the humdrum level of existence necessary to function in the workaday world.”

My upper limit is much lower than I’d like it to be. (Still!)

{Cont’d.}

Read the rest of the essay on Substack (link in my bio)!

@officialgayhendricks
Love Letter to Sarasota 1. Feets at the Ringing H Love Letter to Sarasota

1. Feets at the Ringing House mosaic

2. Band photo (band coming soon!)

3. Bathroom Portrait at the Ringling Museum of Art

4. Happy Hour with bae

5. Selfie with the most astonishing circus mural I’ve ever seen

6. Coffee shops are best offices — working on my Substack tiny wins essay @projectcoffee 

7. Always a kiss on the cheek when we selfie

8. Circus Museum!!

9. Backrooms, a movie without a why

10. Closer feets
When I was a kid, I used to win things all the tim When I was a kid, I used to win things all the time. Writing contests, penmanship awards, badges of excellence. (Games of skill, you’ll note, not games of chance.) 

I have no idea if I was able to celebrate any of these wins, because, as you may already know, I have hardly any memories before the age of 12.

I do know that after high school I stopped winning things. Maybe I won a single thing in college (an achievement scholarship for my final year). I went to NYU in New York City, my friend. The place where it happens. Small fishy in biggest pond. And I don’t know if this came into being when I stopped winning stuff, but about 10 years ago I realized that I genuinely did not know how to celebrate. I did not possess the skill of celebration. Or to be precise, I couldn’t feel celebration. In my body. Or anywhere else, really. Not on the inside. Not on the outside. And certainly not in a way that made my cells dance.

[You can read the whole essay — about how I learned to feel joy again — on the horizontal with lila Substack. Link in my bio!]
And even more Chiro office portraits: 1. About to And even more Chiro office portraits:

1. About to visit @jamesmuseum in my @tecovas & my @gigipip 

2. Happy that I finally found the perfect outfit (pants @farmrio collaboration with Adidas) to wear the forest green bomber that @czechmex gave me at my clothing swap years ago! These @l.o.m_design earrings are among my top 5 hero pieces!

3. Feelin’ like a fiesta— skirt is @farmrio / shoes are @unitednude / hairbow & necklace come from happy place treasure trove @riskgalleryboutique in Bushwick, Brooklyn!

4. And she thought she wasn’t a baseball cap person!

5. THIS SCARF from @pookieandsebastian — all I need now is a 1960s stewardess uniform and a Pan-Am bag, baybyyy!

6. Grumpy in sweatsuit #1

7. Grumpy in sweatsuit #2

8. Currently obsessed with majolica & majolica-adjacent designs. Don’t even know how to pronounce it!
Did you ever make a list of the experiences in you Did you ever make a list of the experiences in your life that could (even subliminally) be affecting your behavior to this very day? We did. I found it incredibly powerful.

You can read mine: I called it “trauma with that lowercase t.” 

(The link to my horizontal with lila Substack, where I keep my writing, amongst other bits of expression, is in my bio.)

And if you would like to be witnessed in this, I’d love to read yours too. Send it my way.
Love Letter to Palm Springs Featuring: Enormous Love Letter to Palm Springs

Featuring:

Enormous hat (from Marianne’s of Palm Springs)
The Love of My Life
A Selkie Dress
Street Art
&
A moste excellent scarf (gifted by said love of life)
There is a cure for this crisis of loneliness, and There is a cure for this crisis of loneliness, and it is intimacy, but *only if* we can expand our definition of what intimacy is and can be. […..]

{I’ll show you how to do this! I gave this keynote speech at my dear friend Adam @mindmaprenovations event, Lifelong Learners. You can read the whole transcript and/or watch the full speech on my Substack!}
See that resting frown face on my mom as she slept See that resting frown face on my mom as she slept?

I’ve started to make that same face. I wake from a dream or a doze to find that I’m frowning. I touch my lips to make it stop. After a few moments, I discover that they are making the frown shape again. I can’t make it stop because I’m sleeping when I do it. I’ve started doing it when I’m not sleeping too. When I’m awake, I think it’s a cross between a grimace and a frown. A frimace? (I mean, it can’t be a grown. Or can it?)

I don’t really have that much to frown about anymore, except, I suppose, for the onslaught of fresh horrors perpetrated by the country I live in on the daily, the greed of the few and desperation of the many, the natural disasters that are frequenter and hotter and wetter and gnarlier as the earth continues its job of beginning to shake us off its back… yeah I guess there’s not much to frown about, really. 

I took Mom to FloridaRAMA because she had been complaining for months that she didn’t do anything anymore. She mentioned concerts, plays, ballets. But by the time the sun went down, she would be sundowning and wouldn’t want to go anywhere anyway. So that afternoon I decided to pick her up and take her on an outing — which was always a pain in the ass, and especially a pain in the ass to do solo. It involved going to her room and making sure she was dressed, convincing her to get dressed if she wasn’t, which was a laborious process, insisting that we needed to take the wheelchair which of course we did because she was falling all the time and brachiating (holding onto walls and less sturdy things like chairs, tables — at least, some nurse told me that this is what it’s called but the internet seems to only relate it to apes swinging from their arms to get from place to place) […]

Continued on horizontalwithlila dot substack dot com (the link is in my bio)
In the bathroom of the Italian restaurant after Da In the bathroom of the Italian restaurant after Dad’s cold rainy rural upstate funeral looking like a sad British clown / Nowhere, NY / April 12th, 2025

Right after my father died, there were Anthonys and Tonys everywhere. 

Suddenly everyone was called Tony and everybody else was talking about their Dad or playing songs about death. 

* Passing a girl on the street talking to her friend, and the only words you catch are “My dad had…” 
* Walking into your favorite gluten-free café, and they’re playing the Flaming Lips song “Do You Realize?”

Do you realize / that everyone you know / someday / will die?

* Realizing that the second title for Billy Joel’s song “Movin’ Out” is “Anthony’s Song.” I never truly registered this until I was trying to write one morning in a blessed cacao shop (yes, for real) and I paused to listen to the opener:

Anthony works in the grocery store
Savin’ his pennies for someday

* Ordering fries from the surfer guy at the beach shack on my pilgrimage to the ocean, when his co-worker shouts, “Hey Anthony!”

If you put this stuff in your feature film script, your screenwriting teacher would tell you it’s too pat, too predictable, “don’t put a hat on a hat.” (The Writer!)

It’s like that old quarters experiment on attention… you start looking for quarters on the ground, and suddenly, you see them everywhere.

The drugstores full of Father’s Day crap. Marketing emails about “Dads and grads.” Only one company sent an email that said, Hey, we know that Father’s Day time is tough for some people, so click this to opt out of all Father’s Day related emails.

Click. CLICK!

I wish I could click that link for the universe. No father stuff, please. No Dad shit. But there were quarters everywhere, of course, because the back of my mind was attuned to all things Dad.

{You can read the rest of the essay on Substack. Link in my bio, bb.}
Love Letter to New York, whom I miss so much 1. S Love Letter to New York, whom I miss so much

1. Straight out of a fitting for “The Deuce”?

2. Free Friday at @whitneymuseum 

3. Basquiat makes me feel like home

4. Madison Square Park photo op (irresistible)

5. Candid

6. Got to see the lovely @josescaro & @benbecherny ply their craft at @bricktheater 

7. Charming marquee!

8. Closing night vibes (not pictured: the succulent plant I brought in lieu of flowersof)

9. Chuck Close in the subway!

10. More subway Chuck Close!

11. Man Ray retrospective at the Met

12. Love a good silhouette

13. A rare VERTICAL bathroom portrait in one of the finest bathrooms of them all, at the lovely New Mexican food joint with the rainbow cookies Of My Dreams, @ursula_brooklyn 

14. My man is a photographer too. 🤩

15. Cannot. Resist. Photo Booth.
I wrote a list in 2020 titled “How to love me wh I wrote a list in 2020 titled “How to love me when I’m ... depressed”... and in this essay, I encourage you to write your own version (How to love me when I’m... anxious, How to love me when I’m... burned out, How to love me when I’m... in despair)...

And if you write one, how I would love to read it. (Or even learn about one of the items on your list, here in the comments).

Here’s an excerpt:

 “One of the characteristics of my depression (and most of my other tizzies, such as but not limited to anxiety, severe procrastination, adulting paralysis, etc.) is that while I’m in it I have no idea what — if anything — will help me get out of it.

It’s more like I DON’T WANT TO BE HERE BUT I DON’T KNOW HOW TO GET OUT SO I’LL JUST HIDE UNDER THE COVERS UNTIL I WANT TO DO SOMETHING AGAIN CALL ME IN 6 MONTHS.

Ergo, therefore, if I’m in a state, and you ask me what I need, or what you can do, I may or may not have the wherewithal to tell you. Emphasis on the not. I may not even have the wherewithal to know.

And if I don’t know, how can I tell you?

I can’tdon’t, then.

If I’m not in a state I probably have plenty of things I could say but that’s when I don’t need the help so badly. (A lá it’s not the worst while you can still say the worst.)

As I mentioned in the subtitle: You don’t come with an operator’s manual. Your model came out of the fleshbox with zero instructions. And since no one possesses your operator’s manual, no matter how much they love you, you are going to be the supreme author, the expert on you, since you’ve been studying you your whole life. Please for the love of Pete & Ashleigh, do your people the great good turn of writing them some instructions. Triage options, if you will. Trust me when I say that they (nearly all of them) need it.

If you write it for them, they will have it when you need it.

This little list could, quite without exaggeration, save your life.”

The link to the whole essay is in my bio. (Join me on Substack darling!)

#substack #substackwriter #depressionandanxiety #communityiseverything
Love Letter to St. Pete @stpetefl Where we met, Love Letter to St. Pete @stpetefl 

Where we met, where we re-met ❤️‍🔥

1. An afternoon at @grandcentralbrewhouse with my handsome gentleman in @warbyparker 

2. Bb’s first @nineinchnails concert (okay, technically in Tampa) in @selkie & @viveylife . It was stellar. Trent sounds just like he used to and the projections were gorgeous!

3. Matching denim jumpsuits ( but his is a @onepiece )

4. The finest pizza in all the land (even with my dietary restrictions!) from @noblecrust (OMNOMNOMNOM)

5. He even makes doctor’s appointments fun.

6. I love matching him sooooo muchmuch. 

7. Just us and a zebra, nbd.

8. Theme Park joy

9. At the art show @wadastpete that my gentleman curated for his students. 🪐☄️🛸👽🚀✨
When I was a kid, I used to read myself to sleep. When I was a kid, I used to read myself to sleep. 

Actually, I don’t know when I stopped.

I read myself to sleep in my childhood bedroom, with a flashlight under the covers of a trundle bed (drawers filled to the brim with dress-up clothes) when my mom said it was too late to be awake. I checked out 25 books from the Freeport library at a time, filling the trunk of my parent’s car, and devoured them in weeks, partly from my perch in the flowering dogwood tree in our backyard (were the blooms ivory? or cherry blossom pink?), partly while curled up on an orange-and-yellow-ticked seat cushion I dragged down to the crawlspace in the basement — my “secret hiding spot,” which was neither secret nor hidden and so can only be termed a spot, armed with Oreos and flashlight, and the remainder under the covers before bed.

I suspect I knew more words then than I know now. There are still words like “vehement” that I’m only about 70% sure I know how to pronounce. I learned them in context. I can spell them. I can use them in a sentence! But am I saying them correctly? 

Unsure.

I read myself to sleep in high school, even though I had to get up unconscionably early to get bussed in to my magnet program — Pinellas County Center for the Arts — 35 minutes away from our sad little apartment. Like a magnet, @pcca_gibbs PCCA grabbed young artists from the whole county.

I had a major in high school, which is more usual now, from what I hear, but wasn’t so usual then, and what I majored in was called Performance Theatre (as opposed to Musical Theatre, the love of my life I never thought I was good enough for). 

I really wanted to go to the Fame school in New York — LaGuardia — but when I was 12 my Mom divorced my Dad and forced me to move to Flah-rida. So I went to PCCA instead. (To be honest, she probably wouldn’t have let me commute into the city to go to Fame even if we had stayed on Long Island.) 

Read the whole essay (link to Substack in my bio)!

#booknerdlife #readingforpleasure #readingrainbow
My man and I got our nerd on at @nerdnitestpete ! My man and I got our nerd on at @nerdnitestpete ! 

We had the opportunity to support my lovely, engaging, and compassionate Happiness Ambassador friend Adam Peters aka @mindmaprenovations as he changed some lives by teaching us how to begin developing a preference for positivity. I’ve seen him give this presentation a few times before, and this was the best one yet — and to the biggest crowd, over 300 human nerds!

I love us.

I consider it my sacred duty to paparazzi my friends when they do marvelous things, as I hope to have done unto me!

P.S. Applied to give a Nerd Nite presentation myself … fingers crossed bb’s! 

1. My gentleman is so handsome. (Also, I got this stellar skirt in excellent condition from my favorite thrift store with a cause @casapinellas !)

2. Toasties supporting Toasties! @dtsptoastmasters members: me, Steve Diasio, Dawn Cecil (two-time Nerd Nite Speaker alumni!), & Rick! (Not pictured here — but later in the carousel) Christian Carrasco.

3. Fit check baybeeee.

4. Caryn, Nerd Nite boss extraordinaire, introducing the evening.

5. Caryn introducing my friend Adam (did I yell “THAT’S MY FRIEND!” at the end? WHY YES I DID.)

6-10. Adam rocking the casbah.

11. Fellow Toastmaster Christian.

12. I love mein mann!

#nerdnite #nerdnitestpete
A woman approached me. We collaborated once, a yea A woman approached me. We collaborated once, a year prior, I think. Time is weird. She reached out both her hands.

“What a beautiful mourner you are,” she said.

I took her hands.

I think I said thank you.

She was referring, I suppose, to the gloves, the dress, the shoes, the lipstick, the earrings. 

But what does it mean, to be a beautiful mourner? 
What does it mean to mourn beautifully? 
To have good grief?

“My dad dropped dead,” I said, to get myself used to the shock of it. 

“My mother is dying,” I said, to reconcile myself to the fact of it. 

I don’t wear mascara anymore, because I cry every day.

People hugged me in airports, at rental car counters, in line for a sandwich. They hugged me in the TSA line. At the chiropractor. The grocery store. My father dropped dead, I told them. My mother is dying. I told them and they hugged me. I was glad I did. I was glad they did.

Sometimes, when people were truly asking, if I had the time, and I had the spoons, I repeated my litany of 2025. So they’d understand: it has been this kind of year. It seems that everyone has this kind of year at some point, or, devastatingly, at several points in a life — a maelstrom, a dervish, a crucible, a nexus, a whammy, a time — an Alexander’s-no-good-very-bad-terrible kind of year. 

There were so many months in February. So many years in April. So many decades in the first half of 2025. I didn’t want to become an adult, but 2024 made me, and 2025 sealed the deal. 

It’s amazing I managed to get this far without growing up.

READ the whole essay on Substack
SUBSCRIBE through the link in my bio and make my day, darling 

💋 

#substackwriters #goodgrief
Love in La La Land 1. “So this is where they ke Love in La La Land

1. “So this is where they keep the LIGHT!” -SATC … At our first @lacma member preview, enjoying the majestically empty Geffen galleries before the permanent collections moves in.

2. Urban Light, and me (installation by Chris Burden)

3. A historic view at LACMA, never again to be seen!

4 - 13. Art, mostly part of the Digital Witness exhibit

14. Love at the @gettymuseum 

15. Queer exhibits! 

16. Sunset at the Getty with my love

#museumnerd #lacma #lacmamember #digitalwellness #thegetty #loveinlalaland
For you, when you need it, and for the people in y For you, when you need it, and for the people in your life, when they need it.

Here’s an excerpt from the essay:

[To read the whole thing, follow the link in my bio to my Substack (and subscribe there, darling)!]

My chiropractor called me out a few weeks back. 
He said, with his characteristic smile (he has nice little teeth), “I read your essay.”

“You did? Thank you for reading,” I began, genuinely surprised and moved.

“But I still don’t know what to say!” he admonished. “You only told us what not to say!” 

Then he gave me an enormous cashmere-scented candle in a plastic bag. 

This was not apropos of nothing. I mentioned that scent in the essay. 

That giant cashmere candle, so big it has not one but FOUR wicks, means something. And then he had to go and ruin it. (jk, jk, Dr. Brian!)

“Hang in there,” he said, at the end of our session.

I cringed a liddle. (That’s not a little, not a lot, it’s right in the middle, a liddle.)

But you see, he was completely right! I told him I’d give him a list! I hadn’t given him a list! So I began compiling. Every time someone said a thing that made me wince, it went on the list, which lead to Part 1: What NOT to say when someone dies.

Each time someone said a thing that felt like love, made me farklempt, I took a screenshot, and it went on the list. 

This is the farklempt list.

As I wrote in “what NOT to say,” the useful things people say are fairly varied (and tailored to the griever), while the un-useful things tend to be generic variations on a tired theme.
“what TO say” will be a living document, updated whenever I have something useful, or supremely un-useful, to add. Here we go.
Love in Louisville. 1. Photo credit to my love, Love in Louisville.

1.  Photo credit to my love, Zachary

2.  Selfie with Street Art by the windy, windy river

3.  Horsies! Street Art! (Do you know how much I love murals?!)

4.  Looking like an award-winning art teacher at the art teacher conference (ahem, he is the award-winning art teacher!), wearing a @riskgalleryboutique necklace & big fcking bow!)

5.  A Wizard interlude! What a delight to witness my friend @personisawake absolutely Rock @cm_louisville & inspire a roomful of humans

6.  When your love matches the art. 🖼️ *chef’s kiss*

7 & 8. Major interior design maxi inspo for my ADU reno from @21clouisville by @fallen_fruit 🌺🌷🌸🌻🌼💐🪷

9.  The crayon shirt, bow, and soft rainbow chiclet necklace style brought to you by my inner 6-year old!

#ilovelouisville #wizardry #creativemornings #21clouisville #21c
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