the white lighter

Admittedly, this blog and its maintainer have eclectic tastes. "Eclectic," as you might suspect, is a nice way of saying that there is very little intertwining theme to any of this. If you end up liking some (or most) of the things I like, you might find that wondrous.

I seek to post only items which are credited to the originator, be it fine art, photography, tattoos, or writing. If you see something uncredited, do feel free to point it out to me. Also: ask anything. Call me out if I fuck up. Give props if you feel like it. Ask questions. I like internet interaction.
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Posts tagged "personal"

We got our CSA today and there are a lot of radishes. I’ve decided the best tactic for handling this is (obviously) to make ceviche, so I will start that soon. It will also take care of some of the tomatoes we were given by Kevin’s boss, and also it is delicious. Lots of birds and stones there.

Yesterday, my first day off, I collaged in the morning, then hung out with Pam and drank coffee and ate figs at her new house. I have decided that when we get the sidewalk redone and can finally plant trees, I want a fig tree first and foremost. I will do anything to have figs growing outside my house. Anything. Pam and i drove down to South Street to hit Jinxed and Infinite; there was nothing for us at Jinxed, but we both bought (the same) earrings at Infinite. Mine are huge brass hoops, hers are smaller brass hoops. Both textured and “old” looking. $50 later, I got me some earbings. I volunteered to do renewals at the dog park so Kaya and I hung out there for two full hours yesterday. She met 15+ dogs during that time and seriously enjoyed every moment. I was worried about keeping her there that long and not being “allowed” to leave, but she was so good the whole time and I had worried for naught. Nighttimes included yet more collaging — I am addicted — and writing some in a secret notebook that I will mail off someday this week. I have been keeping up with 365 so far, which I guess isn’t too big of an accomplishment since it has only been one week, but there’ve been attempts in the past that ended earlier than this. Kudos to me, ok?

I got my nails done early this week and they are a lovely cobalt blue color. Pointy as shit, too, which pleases me to no end. The gal called them “stiletto nails.” The only stilettos I wear.

If you wanna talk about something significant or important, you came to the wrong place.

My stupid dog is so stupid and so dear. She infuriates me, and yet, I love her so fucking much that it hurts. It’s a different love than that I have for Booker — and no, that has not dissipated. It’s like having two kids, or so they say, and I never believed my mom when she said she loved us both the same amount, but I guess I believe it now. They are lovely, beautiful, irritating souls. Souls I share my life with. And I will share my life with them willingly until the day they die. That is a weird and beautiful thing.

We are all going to the Outer Banks in mere days. Days. I have never so needed a vacation in my life. We’ll be down there in a house with my mom, David (my mom’s partner), my brother, Becca (my brother’s partner), Keiko (my mom’s dog), and, of course, bad Kaya. Kevin is nervous because he knows that at some point there will be a blow up between my mother and I concerning the dog. Kaya is good, but she is far from perfect, and if I feel judged or undermined by my mother it’s a surefire blow up. That said, I am almost 30 fucking years old and I know this about myself so I hope to handle it as much like an adult as I am able. We have options: we can leave the house, we can put her in her crate with a toy/Kong, we can do something that I know Kaya can do successfully and just remove the stress. I can grab a pile of kibble and do some training. We can go outside with a tug toy. We just spent the last 20 minutes doing some serious tugging and now she’s so beat that she found her pillow in the kitchen (where I’d had it while cooking/baking) and has laid down on it without being told where to go. She can make good decisions, I just need to facilitate them and I will do that because I am her mother. I know how to do that.

She’s staring at the wall now. What a fucking weirdo. (She belongs with us. Who makes who weird, I wonder? Was she always weird, or did we imbue her with our weirdness?)

But THE BEACH. She is going to flip her shit on the beach. She is going to try to eat everything, but that’s no different than the city streets where I swear to god people walk down the street with fried chicken and barbeque and drop the bones ev.ry.where. Why? Who knows? But eating rotted out crab and sea gull bones can’t be all that much worse. Can it? I guess we’ll find out. Pray for us.

I just want to run around, lay around, drink a lot, walk a lot, sunbathe (we got an umbrella for Kevin and the dog), swim a lot (don’t know if the dog will do that yet), and hang with my family. I like those people and I feel very blessed that they are actually likeable. I am going to turn off my phone — OFF — and zone out. Maybe write. Maybe read. I am bringing a few books from the gigantic “unread” pile. I will bring a blank sketchbook and some pens/markers/pencils. I will bring some clothes. Some sunblock. A hat. Sunglasses. My girl and allllll her toys.

(She chipped her tooth on an antler and it has to be extracted — p.s. my vet says those things are way too hard for dog teeth and gets pissed at stores for selling them. Don’t buy them for your babes. Chipped teeth. $500-$700 extractions. Luckily, I got the pet insurance. Y’all should do that. I got Pet Plan. I will let you know if it’s good if they pay for this extraction. Recommendations forthcoming. It was $440 to insure Booker and Kaya for a year. Lesson: buy insurance and don’t buy antlers.)

That’s really all there is to say. I have a strawberry rhubarb pie in the oven — rhubarb from our first CSA delivery and strawberries from the co-op of which I am now a member. This is pretty much the dream life I always dreamed of living so I should just shut the fuck up and enjoy this shit.

Hanging out with my best girl. Also, got a hairs cut.

though how to really own your shit would be to talk about this on your tumblr and talk about how you fucked up in the past and will try to fuck up less in the future.

Ways I have really fucked up (that I know about):

1. I misgendered an acquaintance when speaking to their then-partner. I was mortified, corrected myself, and tried to move on with the conversation. I was also wasted — these are not excuses, they are reminders to myself to be more careful under these conditions because it is my job to remain vigilant even if I am not sober.

2. I have misgendered customers who come into the coffee shop. Saying, “Hello, ladies!” when “Hello, folks!” would be sufficient and just as friendly. The lesson here is for me not to assume someone’s gender upon seeing them — case in point, my friend C, who has been amazing and forgiving of my idiotic assumption upon meeting him — I need to use less gendered language, too, and this is something I have improved upon in the past couple of years.

3. About three years ago when cleaning up a coffee shop I worked at, I said out loud to a co-worker that the owner should “hire some Mexicans to do this job right.” I was joking about our boss being unreasonable, but obviously that isn’t funny. It was one of the more fucked up things I have ever, ever uttered out loud. My co-worker at the time garnered an incredible amount of respect from me when she called my ass out and told me my statement was unacceptable to her. I apologized immediately — and then apologized and thanked her again about a year later. I am most ashamed of this one, I feel sick even typing it out. The fact that this shit came out of my mouth makes me want to hide under a rock and never come out again.

4. I am sure there have been one million transgressions I wasn’t aware of, and for those I am sorry too.

I hope to find more people like my co-worker mentioned in #3, and surround myself with them. I am grateful for the friends I have who do and will continue to call me out when I say or do something that is wrong. I am thankful to have found an online community which encourages me to keep learning, and illustrates to me when I have done something wrong (or even just tacitly supported wrongdoing). It’s an ongoing process. This is part of it.

  1. Possible public embarrassment which I have to be vague about, unfortunately.
  2. Planning events too close to the proposed date of event, which is a giant pet peeve of mine generally speaking.
  3. Being in a situation where I am more than likely asking stupid questions to experts in my field.
  4. Definitely asking stupid questions of my friends (who are experts in my field).
  5. Not knowing what I am talking about because I have been separated from my (extensive, exhaustive) research and my memory does not latch on to things like model numbers or electronic specs.
  6. Watching “The X-Files” might have caused all of these feelings.

I painted my first oil painting. First painting ever, actually, and I was so terrified that I almost cried in the middle of class. Luckily, I got the fuck over myself enough to paint something and it’s not even terrible. It was a strange, awesome day so far, my best boy is back in town, and now dinner with my momma and our fellas. 

Just: yes.

Very different hair.

The view from our window. Bless South Philly.

Fungus from a million years ago. It’s funny, because this image brings me back to precisely where I was when I took this image. It was a weird place.

Fungus from a million years ago. It’s funny, because this image brings me back to precisely where I was when I took this image. It was a weird place.

The restaurant-cafe which has completely absorbed my life for the last few months has passed health inspection and we open tomorrow. If you live in Philly, please come visit us for delicious coffee drinks!

Go ahead and stalk me.