Back in ol’ Central PA for a few days. Tonight, an old friend and her family had a tiny party at a campsite about 20 miles from my hometown, and I sat around and bullshitted with friends and acquaintances and it just felt so easy and my skin smells like smoke now, which might be the best part. I drove home on roads that wind through rolling farmland, the low mountains close, like sleeping gentle giants, lit up by stars and light pollution, and I wanted to make some grand gesture, like pulling over and lying down in a field or screaming at the top of my lungs, to tell the place that it’s so goddamn beautiful, but I just kept driving.
I confused the Esquire site when I looked up this article just now (It’s a riveting, beautiful article with much more of a focus on tornado things versus Olivia Munn things, just so you’re clear on what you’re getting into by clicking the link).
Edit: Days later, I’ve realized that the only caption this needed was “AMIRITE?”
I am taking an herbalism class tomorrow called “Wise Womb,” which is about fertility charting/managing your period with herbs/herbal contraceptives, and I think a) it will be badass, and b) I may be jumping the Asheville shark between the title and the content, and while I would have laughed at myself a year or so ago, I’m very ok with this now.
Shaved my legs for the first time in probably a year, ate some sage, making rosemary tea. The eve of your 25th birthday is as good a time as any to take a little stab at renewal, I guess.
The Rumblr’s in-house astrologer, Madame Clairevoyant, presents her latest dispatch from the stars:
Taurus: This week the world is going to ask you to feel feelings that seem silly and trite and weird. You can fight this, if you want; you can lock your door, you can stick your fingers in your ears and not listen. It’d be better, though—this week and next week and next year—if you don’t try to outsmart your sappy feelings. Don’t try to be smarter and better than the cliches, for now, just feel what you feel. Listen to Johnny Cash, watch Moonstruck.
Today’s image was made specially for Madame Clairevoyant by Jen May.
Madame Clairevoyant is on a damn roll, at least for this particular Taurus.
This is a “steamy” movie, Netflix? That was your take-away? Are you 16 and only watching to see Michelle Williams’ boobs? What?
(Also, holy shit, this one is as sad as all the critics said. Best and worst movie for a rainy week and the accompanying funk.)
The Rumblr’s in-house astrologer, Madame Clairevoyant, presents her latest dispatch from the stars:
Taurus: This week is a really good week for treating yourself like the best, most beautiful thing in the whole entire world, especially if it’s cold, especially if it’s cloudy, especially if you start to feel sad. If you get frazzled this week, if you feel like a monster, then get your hair cut, get your nails done, wear clothes that make you feel like a peacock, like an alien, like a queen. Treat your whole life like it’s gold, like it’s a redwood tree, like it’s a soft tiny baby. Take a day off work. Buy yourself a book. Buy yourself a whole gallon of ice cream.
