FOMO and Crushing Anxiety


I woke up all sweaty and worn out from an evening of anxiety dreams.

The heady mixture of “my” ballot initiative 2N being up for vote and the flurry of activity surrounding the process, the fear of imminent financial ruin, my parents in town (HI DAD! HI MAC!), Wilkins visiting, 200 people traipsing through my house for an historic tour of homes and its resident ghosts, probably too many Mai Tai’s at Benihana, and an Instagram feed almost entirely devoted to pole dancers, led to this crazy dream.

I am drinking Mai Tai's with my dad so it totally doesn't count.

I am drinking Mai Tai’s with my dad so it totally doesn’t count.

I dreamt was at home when people started just opening my kitchen door and pouring in. There were about a dozen of them and they were all, “We’re here! When are you going to make us something to eat?”

I didn’t know who they were which led to my Number One anxiety, having Airbnb guests arrive unexpectedly.

I couldn’t get a clear answer from them about which room they were staying in and I couldn’t make sense of my calendar. Then I realized that they weren’t staying at my house at all, they had the wrong address.

But they wouldn’t listen to me and I was yelling, “HEY! YOU AREN’T EVEN STAYING HERE!” but it didn’t get them to leave or stop hassling me to cook.

When I looked at my calendar there were about fifty pole events happening because there was a pole fest going on.

I couldn’t figure out how to go to all of them, or even one of them. Serious FOMO.

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And then suddenly I was watching Oona Kivela (a really badass poler) doing a one-arm layback in forearm grip which I’m pretty sure is impossible, and climbing the pole doing a cowboy which is definitely impossible and I was all, “I’m gonna name that move the Oona because you invented it,” and she was like, “Whatever. Mortal.”

Super sweaty. Super exhausted.

Which isn’t to say that I don’t enjoy my parents, Wilkens, local political activism (just kidding, I hate it), opening my home to the tour because it raises money for historic preservation, cooking (which I didn’t have to do any of because my folks took us out for every meal which was awesome), and watching Maddie Sparkle on Instagram.

I’m not saying no to any of it.

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I love it all so I take it as it comes, even when its all at once.

I leave it to my subconscious to work it out while I sleep and carry on during the day.

So yes, my folks were in town and it was really fun. They were here for Scratchy’s birthday and we all went to Benihana because that’s what he wanted to do.

Benihana bitches!

Benihana bitches!

Everyone was all, “Dude. Benihana. Taking one for the team.”

Do we look like we are not having a great time? Don't hate.

Do we look like we are not having a great time? Don’t hate.

I don’t get it, Benihana is fucking awesome and their Mai Tais are delish.

Scratchy’s birthday was last week but I’m all for spreading out the fun, especially when it isn’t on me to provide the good time. My dad and MaryAnn are the best grandparents.

I did my duty by letting the boys have their own rooms, which was self-serving because I was about to kill them, but still. And I got Scratchy a new bed.

I meant to post this video when it happened but I was drunk posting so I just put in a picture of Shé’s boobs instead because I was drunk and that’s what I do.

I’m giving up on being linear here.

I’m still coping by doing lots of yoga (crazy, I know) and handstands. Here’s my latest handstand video with Chris which ended up getting little BDSM.

Awesome, right? My other buddy Chris thinks so.

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It’s hard not to smile when that’s how I get exercise. I even treated my dad to a session, which he really enjoyed.

Activate the hollow!

Activate the hollow!

Speaking of porno, I post this video a while ago (don’t get excited, it’s just me leg wrestling Jason) and I just got an alert from Youtube that my video has new activity.

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Mark Miller, my friend, you are so welcome. And no, I don’t know him.

And speaking more of porn, I went to Dan Savage’s Humpfest which ended up being a profoundly marriage affirming evening, but more about that later.

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I asked him some sex advice at his live love cast taping and the answer was, let me just say, savage.

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I love him so much. Did you know that?

I’ve been harassing neighborhood cats. This stud is my favorite. One, because he is tethered by a leash to the porch so he can’t escape me …

He's totally into me

He’s totally into me

and two, because he was a late neuter he has a very cute ball sack.

Adorable.

Adorable orange balls.

Is it weird that I notice cat balls? Bite me.

Let see, what else? Oh, the tour of homes thing.

My house looking spooky

My house looking spooky

A note was left on our door a while back asking us if we would be willing to lend our home to a Ghost Walk near Halloween. I told Loony about it and he was like, “Fuck no.”

So when my friend Alex, who is on the committee emailed me a day later to follow up I was like,

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Because that’s how I get shit done. Then the crippling anxiety of having strangers traipse through my whole first floor set in.

I’m used to having guests because of my Airbnb, but that’s not my home home. Those are perfect spaces that we keep pristine because I don’t allow my kids or Loony in.

The part of the talk would be in, however … not so much.

Behold, Loony’s desk.

This is the contents of his top drawer only, and AFTER I cleared off all the shit on top.

This is the contents of his top drawer only, and AFTER I cleared off all the shit on top. And it’s how it looked before I started.

I rolled up my sleeves, waited until Loony left for work, and set about cleaning his desk. Holy shit.

The horror! Loony was so pissed.

The horror! Loony was so pissed.

I felt awesome afterwards. Loony, however was pretty mad at me for fucking with his stuff. He was a little less mad when I realized I didn’t throw out his Pep Boys matchbook and I took pictures of all his tiny scraps of paper with passwords on them.

I saved this very important match book because I understand Loony's priorities.

I saved this very important match book because I understand Loony’s priorities because they are kind of like mine.

And my Silkies, at least Trixi, is laying eggs.

I heard a very interesting Ted Talk the other day (does that sentence make me sound like a pretentious ass? Do I care?) It was about resilience and studies show that people who suffer great hardship (loss of a job, death in the family, divorce, etc) are usually back to their baseline level of happiness within a few months. I try to keep that in mind when I start stressing about this shit with the city.

I got this nifty piece of feedback on my Airbnb listing from a former guest.

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She’s right. No matter what happens I won’t stop being me. I won’t stop reveling in strange things and inviting adventure into my life. My job might look different, but that’s okay. I’ll figure it out.

Besides, I’m going to Paris in 11 days. Either I will go there triumphant in my battle with the city or I will go there to drown my sorrows in burlesque shows, wine and food.

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I really don’t have anything to complain about.

PS: Thank you to the action committee A Fair Deal for Boulder who mailed this out today.

Really? No way.

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