I challenge you to...

Write. Every day.

Even if the only thing you get on that paper is the word "Fuck."

I wonder if he knows that he speaks in vignettes.

Like... every day that I talk to him... I could just write out a few of the sentences he shared with me... and not a single post would be crap.

I tried to be anorexic once

... i lasted about 3 hours.

Sigh. That was one of my favorite jokes in high school. And college. Who am I kidding... I still probably use it once a week. But the eating disorder I would like to make light of this evening is not actually anorexia. It's bulimia.

Bulimia nervosa
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Bulimia nervosa is an eating disorder characterized by recurrent binge eating, followed by compensatory behaviors. The most common form—practiced by more than 75% of people with bulimia nervosa—is self-induced vomiting, sometimes called purging; fasting, the use of laxatives, enemas, diuretics, and over exercising are also common. The word bulimia derives from the Latin (būlīmia) from the Greek βουλῑμια (boulīmia; ravenous hunger), a compound of βους (bous), ox + λῑμος (līmos), hunger.

And after 27 years of binging...

I'm due for one big. ass. purge.

---

Luckily, I am not talking about vomiting. Or pooping.

I am talking about paper and prose. You know... books.

This is my vice. My inner pack rat.

Anything that has to do with the written word, I KEEP it. Especially if I happened to be the one to write it down, or someone wrote it down specifically for me.

... it is not surprising to discover that I feel a little weighed down by all of this.

So over the past couple days, I have been going through my desk, book shelves, cubbyholes, storage containers and cardboard boxes... and I truly believe that collectively, paper makes up of over 75% of my material possessions.

That canNOT be healthy.

So. In celebration of my upcoming move to Boston, I am trying, quite literally, to lighten my load. If you are interested in receiving a random assortment of awesome reading/writing crap I don't want anymore, please leave me a comment below. Or, if you are far away, feel free to email me your address.

"Baby Steps."

I have been following that dumb ass motto for a cursed 5 years now...

and it's time to stop.

We tell ourselves that if we initiate tiny, little changes, we can have a profound impact on the world. We can be that poetic, cliched pebble: dropped into the water, our ripples radiating outward, and eventually our seemingly small splash will reach the moon...

and get it all wet.

In theory, this is true.

But in my case, it's just another carefully crafted avoidance technique.

A macro that I use to hide my micro behind.

A way to keep myself from having to do

too. much. work.

I told myself that eventually, with time, I could be the powerhouse female that lives in the back of my mind, despite my locking her inside a cage of insecurity and self-loathing. I told myself that I could pick away, slowly, at all my bad habits, ease out of my addictions, and basically avoid pain.

But it was bullshit. And I knew it the whole time.

Even when I gave this advice to the people closest to me, I knew it was bullshit.

We needed to jump.

How high?

Really fucking high.