sober women

Keeping My Promise, Part Two:

About 350 days ago, a young woman came to me early one morning and told me she had been daydreaming about having an entire year sober. She said she “knew she wasn’t supposed to think about that” and that “it was stupid,” but that in her daydream she and I got cupcakes from Sprinkles and passed them out to strangers on the corner outside my office on her One Year Birthday. I told her it wasn’t stupid, that she should keep dreaming about the future, that doing the work is just as important, and that if she did that, I would buy the cupcakes and happily share them with strangers on the street corner.

A dozen cupcakes. One for each month of her sobriety. A dozen strangers helped us celebrate who had no idea just what a miracle they shared with us today.
Inside The Persistent Boys Club Of Animation
Women who have worked in animation for anywhere from a few years to six decades talked to BuzzFeed News about how things have gotten better — and how they haven’t.
By Ariane Lange

Despite this being a Buzzfeed article, this is a really good and sobering look at how women are marginalized in the field animation and you all should read it.

It pisses me off especially because of how many amazingly talented female artists and storywriter-artists in particular I know…

Day 81, Witches and cannabis

I made it to Portland. Long flight from Fort Lauderdale. My grandson is still in the hospital and it looks like he will be for a couple more days. I’m glad I made the decision to come. Blair is so relieved! And as always, it is so good to be with her.

She rubbed my feet with coconut oil that she infused with cannabis. Seriously! They were cramping like crazy- I had worn new shoes and they hurt like hell. My feet didn’t even get high. Well, a little. That is, they sure felt better afterwards.

Did I mention that Blair is a witch? A good witch. She actually goes to witch school or, as she explained to a child who asked, “Like Hogwarts for adults.”

For Blair, faeries, spirits, all creatures small and invisible are real. When I’m with her, I view the world the same way. Before I went to sleep, she blessed me by putting a droplet of holy water on my forehead. It’s somehow associated with a female saint whose name escapes me. Apparently, if a droplet of water from the well that is associated with her (no, I don’t think it was Bernadette, although that would make sense), added to a big container of water (someone did this, it seems) makes that water completely blessed. I sure feel blessed.

But another fun item before we turned off the lights. Tapping. I had just read about it about a week ago and it turns out, Blair went to a workshop last weekend. We’re on the same page!

Tapping:  You “tap” your face, chest, sides of hands, not sure where else, while reciting something like this, “Even though I feel the urge to drink, I still love and appreciate myself.” And you can take it to the extreme, “Even though I may get drunk, I still love and appreciate myself.” Or, “Even though I hate my job and feel trapped, I still love and appreciate myself.” Or whatever it is for you.

There is something sane in that practice. I don’t believe it’s giving permission for bad behavior or encouraging bad thoughts. The tapping is very grounding. I’m here. This is my body. This is my body that is suffering. And I love myself.

How much of my life have I spent hating myself? A lot of it.

Blair is still asleep in her son’s room. She’ll get up soon, we will eat the most amazing breakfast because that’s how we roll. We’ll make a plan for the day- going to the hospital, what we’ll eat later, who will spend the night with Isaac.  I will clean her house, buy food and flowers, buy a present for Isaac. These are all ordinary and wonderful things. Isaac is safe. He will be home soon. We are a family.

Josie M., 02/20/2016