Dear beloved readers,

Can you smell it? The sweet breeze of Spring Break? Yeah, me too. Freaking awesome. Very needed, though I wouldn’t call this grayness taking over this beautiful state as Springy at all. 

It’s been quite the week, between Big and I getting obsessed with the Netflix show Dark, which let me tell you, total mind fuck show, I gotta admit not a lot has happened. We are far too stressed about missing children in different time periods to even care about any tangible, real life thing that may be happening. But really, not a lot has happened. I did the glazed donut nails, though that doesn’t make for a good blog post, now does it? 

Yesterday, which was supposed to be a day off for both of us, went down to shambles when Big had to go to work last minute. I very much could’ve used the time to do something productive, maybe speed up my writing for the masters, work on some side projects, send my writing for publication – and maybe get another one of those “very fun read, but we don’t think it’s a match” rejection letters that build oh so much character. But no, none of that, I decided to do something I haven’t done in ages: A spa day. 

Like many of us, I was one of those people that got obsessed with skincare during quarantine, learned a shitload about it, never stop doing my very specific regimen since then. But real life, since we came back to our very missed old normal, sometimes gets in the way, and as it turns out, I haven’t had the time to just sit back and do a full-blown body/face/hair day in ages. 

I exfoliated every crevice of my body, did a face mask and a hair mask at the same time, slathered my skin with lotion, I shaved my legs with no intention of displaying them, for crying out loud. And I felt beautiful, the kind of beautiful you truly only feel about yourself because you recognize it is beautiful that you are taking care of yourself, which let’s face it, is a full time job. 

Adulting is interesting because it’s the time in your life you find out that taking care of yourself goes beyond pleasurable things, you gotta cook, like everyday, you gotta clean, like every other day, you have to take care of your health with vitamins, exercise, whatever else. It is exhausting, but worth it, for sure. Just invest on a really good knife set, learn a few handful of recipes you confidently can make, design a cleaning method that works for you, and as for the vitamins, take them religiously – but if we are being realistic, as often as you remember. 

I do miss the time when I was taken care of by someone else, when my mother would be the one in charge of keeping me alive and well. But I also think, and this is a working theory I have going on, that I feel this way about things like that, because of nostalgia. Like I don’t wish for it today, I just miss it from when back when, and nostalgia is the kind of feeling that masks everything else, kinda like when you add cilantro to a recipe, and it clouds your judgement – meaning, nostalgia makes your judgement of character unreliable. 

For example: Once a month (seriously, once a month), I bring up to whoever wants to hear it how much I miss Blockbuster. Which is very true, I have very found memories of going there as a kid with my father and being very, very happy, but is it to say that I wish streaming services wouldn’t exist? Fuck no, my entire blogger career is based on the fact that Love is Blind keeps getting renewed. I simply miss that time, but this compulsion of bringing up this conversation, and long for something that is gone, that’s fully masked by something not credible.

Dark, the TV show, talks a lot about time, and the way our present past and future selves are intertwined, where everything is well, everything at all the times, and how basically every millisecond of our existence is one version of ourselves living it, in that moment, and that version, in the next millisecond, no longer exists. Or something like that, I am far too stupid to dissect a show like that, I am a reality TV show watcher and analyst for christ’s sake. But of course, this is just a theory, it’s not true or at least not proven to be true, but I kinda find it comforting in a twisted way, because if it’s all happening at the same time, there’s a version of me at Blockbuster with my dad right now, ringing up Alice in Wonderland, while I beg him to get me a ballon, with some candy on the way out too. 

I don’t know, this is all over the place. All I know is that I’ve been trying to be more present (which is starting to look like is going to be a lifetime project), and more relaxed, which is why I need to grasp to these instances of assigned piece like my life depends on it, well if not my life, my mental health for sure. Well, beloved readers, this was my multiverse madness, I hope you like it *does Barbra Streisand/Fanny Brice’s jump and clap motion*, stay safe and out of trouble but, if you don’t – oh my god, tell me all about it. 

– Your Girl On The Go