BRYCE HARPER arguing with umpire ángel hernández after getting ejected for challenging a strikeout, then tosses his helmet to a fan | PIT @ PHI 9.28.2023
Sorry I've been MIA. Life has had some pretty good highs and some really horrible lows recently. Christmas was great, but a few days later my mom went back into the hospital. After spending a day in the ER she was transferred back down to Philadelphia. She has a bad exacerbation of her CHF and it's not looking great. It's already gotten to the point where being the primary caregiver for both mom and dad has gotten to be too much, but now there's no way I'd be able to take care of her post-discharge, whenever that may be. Thankfully I have an amazing brother and SIL who are here for me and we are all going to do this together. My SIL drove me and dad down to Philly today to visit with mom. It took about an hour to get there. It was so nice to be able to see mom, not on facetime, but in person, and be able to hold her hand, talk to her, give her a hug and a kiss. But it was so fucking hard to see her like that. I don't know how long she will be in the hospital, but it's going to be a long stay. In the meantime, once the social workers reach out this week, we will all have to work together to figure out what type of facility is best suited for mom's needs, is close to home, and can safely provide all the care she needs. It kills me knowing that mom won't come back home. Just sitting here writing this, sitting in the living room where I usually am watching TV with mom at this hour, being here alone is hard. I'm crying just thinking about it. I hate this. I hate all of this. Coincidentally enough, the weekly email from church last week included a flyer about an anticipatory grief support group that another place nearby will be hosting. I signed up for it, its virtual, for 8 weeks, and starts February 1. I'm glad, because I don't know how to do this. I'm so scared.
“Here is history,” the river whispers. “Do you want to be a part of it?”
This is my third time in Philly and the sight of Boathouse Row still sends a thrill down my spine.
In college Dad Vails was our “championship.” Everything we did, we did with Philly in mind. In January, 1250 meters into a 2k erg test, coach would start describing the grandstand upstream of 3 angels. I grew up as a rower on stories of Vesper and Olympic training camps.
3 years ago I didn’t know how I was going to get myself back on the water. Philly was so impossible, it doesn’t even count as a pipe dream. Yet here I am, watching singles launch from Boathouse Row while I wait for the rest of the team to arrive. The river is calling and finally I get to answer it.
Memento Mori Amore is vending the Philly Punk Rock Flea Market Sunday 12/17 only! Come cross those weird folks in your life off the holiday shopping list! 💀🎁✨
A friend was talking to me a while ago about wanting to be a stripper and I was like "well why dontcha" and she was like cus I got a dick. And they don't move like that on the East Coast. And now all I think about is how I would definitely go to strip clubs if they let trans women work there (and they were adequately unionized and trained to deal with chasers.)
I drift out farther away
I got a problem with it and I don't know how to say
It's a pink carnation, it's a hand hastily played
The potboiler wearing out
Give 'em something to kick up dust about
If it was love you were after with a long shadow of doubt
PLAINS (Waxahatchee + Jess Williamson)
"Problem With It"