i have bird lice, and it’s ok.

fuck shame. fuck embarrassment. fuck not being able to ask for help when you need it because your problem is weird or gross or unsanitary.

i am DONE with it.

when i was a kid, i was ruled by shame. in the 5th grade, i told everyone i didn’t know how to swim so that no one would see the explosion of stretchmarks on my hips and thighs. i didn’t even know what they were, i just knew that they were ugly and abnormal and that i should hide them and quietly hate my body for betraying me. which did, for YEARS. even as an adult, i have never owned a bathing suit that wasn’t skirted.

and there was another time in 3rd grade when i poured AN ENTIRE BOTTLE OF PINE SOL on my head because i was worried i might have head lice (i didn’t) and was too ashamed to ask my mom to look. i guess i’m pretty lucky that i didn’t blind myself.

i know that i’ve been writing about stuff that is gross and weird lately. i know that there are probably more fun things to read about. but i just get so tired of everyone being to scared, or polite, or embarrassed to really talk about some of the crazy shit that just happens as a byproduct of being alive. life is gross and scary sometimes, but it’s even worse if you think you’re alone.

so without further ado, let me tell you about my weekend.

valentine’s b-side- loving love is dangerous.

so my real official valentine’s day post belongs to ophelia’s webb today, so you’ll have to go over there if you want to read that mess. but if you’re too lazy to click, the cliff’s notes version is that i love valentine’s day.

when was a little girl, i would spend weeks and weeks making home made valentines for everyone i cared about (long before romantic love could hover over me like a specter of death) and generally just thinkin about all the people i wanted to tell how awesome they are. as a teenager, i wasn’t always great at expressing my love for anyone or anything (picture it- 1992: black lipstick, kafka, ever present scowl), but for some reason, i let valentine’s day be the exception to that rule. and in fact, if i felt compelled to declare my affections to someone in particular, i would often wait until valentine’s day- and spend weeks or months thinking of just the right thing to say that would make them fall in love with me instantly.

this has had varying levels of effectiveness. and has, on rare occasion, gotten me into trouble.