still growing…

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(whoever is the artist responsible for this, thank you. it’s gorgeous.)

 

My life has changed drastically in the past month. Since I’ve been back from my epic Iceland visit I’ve been so happy. I’m in love. I’m creating things, making my home gorgeous, organizing & decorating. And shopping. Must. Stop. Shopping.

I go through phases. And I can go through compulsive shopping phases. Dangerous. But fruitful. I’ve got some epic items due to these phases. But I need to keep it in check.

I’ve decided to make October an Official Stop Shopping Month for me. I’ll start tomorrow, and go through November 1. Then I may need to buy some Christmas gifts, but I’m really committing to stopping shopping. I’ve been collecting some divine vintage pieces as well as just adding to my fall/winter wardrobe but I have enough. For real.

I have a lot of clothing. A. Lot. I collect clothing. And hats.

I want to collect all manner of things. It’s in my blood. My mother was a pack-rat. My father was a hoarder. Epic, mentally ill level hoarding. It made me realize I had a propensity for such behavior. Now I have some perspective I also see that compulsive shopping binges may run in my family. I need to stay in check.

I went through several years of being so poor. Food stamps poor. Using paper napkins saved from when I could afford take-out as toilet paper, because food stamps can’t buy toilet paper and I had no extra money after paying my rent and bills. It sucked. I didn’t but anything for so long. Now I’ve made up for lost time. Now it’s time to save money, like the Bonus Pig.

I’ve also got to figure out what the fuck to write about now that I’m in a relationship and done dating, and relaying my hell and hedonistic adventures. Elskan min isn’t into being exposed here, I gotta keep on writing and find a new path. I’ve got some ideas. You’ll see them soon. Spinsterhag style will be coming. As well as Spinsterhag clothing. T-shirts will only be the tip of the Iceberg.

So, Lara…

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Spinsterhag is changing. I started out so frustrated… with dating, without sex, it was a wonderful venting board. Then it just transformed my life to be letting that energy out and now I’m in love. Wonderful! But I have to keep writing. I cannot stop. So I’ll have to dig deep and find things to write about, despite all of the amazing cock I’m getting. Every. Day.

Being in love is lovely. Elskan min is lovely. Lovely lovely lovely. I hope I’m not making people gag in the street with how lovey-dovey I am. Sorry/not sorry.  I can’t believe that I’ve actually moved on from my Benedict obsession, but I actually have! It was great while it lasted. But elskan min is everything. It’s bananas how good it is. Newly exciting and deeply comfortable at the same time. Ah, being in love is so lovely.

I’m also more in love with Iceland than ever before! While I wished he was with me, I had a different kind of awesome time on my own and with my girlfriends. It was epic. I’m going back for Christmas! A Very Special Spinsterhag Christmas will be coming to a theatre near you early 2019!

I’ve been struggling in Portland to find good, lasting girlfriends. One was amazing but moved to Minnesota. I have an amazing girlfriend in Eugene, but I need someone in the town I live in perhaps? I hope I do find a good girlfriend here in Portland but the ones I have in Iceland are truly the fucking best!  I’ll be turning 46 in Akureri and cackling under the northern lights in the hot tub with my new friends.

In love with elskan min. In love with Iceland. Happy to be home in Portland. So fucking happy.  I am so grateful and feel so blessed, I just hope I don’t look so happy that I’m making people gag.

Sorry/not sorry!

#Tinderworks

Cackle-fest

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I’m having the best time in Iceland. It’s been so much better than I expected, and I expected to have an amazing time. I love this place so much.

My friends’ cousin invited me to come visit her in Akureyri after we met in Reykjavík.  She and I share a way-beyond-bad-taste-humor and a crazy witch cackle. I took the bus here, which took 6 1/2 hours, almost as long as my flight to Iceland! And it was worth it!

Akureyri is the second largest city in Iceland.  So it’s pretty tiny. It’s far north nestled in between fjords. It’s breathtakingly gorgeous.

My new friend has taken me into her home and I feel like family. Her sister is a fellow so-bad-it’s-so-good  humor and the witch cackle so it’s been hilarious.  My stomach hurts from laughing. I’m literally in heaven.

Yesterday we went to a place where there are hot pots (Icelandic for hot tubs) by the sea. We soaked in the hot water and waded our into the frigid sea. Heaven.  We ate lunch at a fish restaurant there and I am now a member of the rotten shark club, after choking down a sizable portion of the National “delicacy”. Then we came home and had a dinner party for the local branch of the Pirate Party, the new progressive political party my friends are part of.  Ain’t no party like a pirate party!  Delicious food, drinks, great company and lots of cackling ensued.  It was lovely. The best day.

Today I’ll head back to Reykjavík. Some of the pirates are letting me ride back with them so it will be much quicker and way more fun than the bus was. I’ll miss it here but I’m sure I’ll be back again soon. My new friends are already planning what we’ll do on my next visit.

Ive got only a few more days here in Iceland.  I’ve always been so sad to leave, crying the day I leave because I want to stay forever.  This time while I want to stay forever I’m also so excited to get home to my boyfriend.

This is how I know I’m in love.

I am not a Cougar!

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Read title with full Arnold accent

 

So I’ve been showing a picture of my boyfriend to my friends. It’s so nice to have a boyfriend to brag about! And my friends were probably tired of seeing pics of all the cats I know. So it’s exciting!  But almost everyone has said “oh, he’s much younger than you!” And no, he’s not! He’ll be 45 at the end of the month, I’ll be 46 before Christmas. We’re essentially the same age.

I am NOT a cougar!

I’ve written about the cougar double standard before.  It’s bullshit. Women who are with younger men are dubbed predatory animals while men are just dubbed…men. With a congratulatory pat on the back. This is infuriating.

And now I’m feeling like people will think I’m his mother or maybe an elderly aunt? Fuck.

Its probably all the grey hair. It’s about to reach that critical mass tipping point where I am no longer a brunette going grey, I’m just…grey. I love my grey hair.  It’s gorgeous.  But I don’t want to look old! Yet another double standard. Ugh.

Men are “distinguished” with grey hair. Women are told to cover that shit up with toxic dye until they die. Fuck that.

“Andy” loves my grey hair. He thinks it’s sexy AF. So I’m not so worried. But if someone thinks I’m his mom I will go full cougar on their ass and bite their head off. Grrrrrrrr.

Ive got 4 full days left in Iceland. The fifth day I’ll be going home where elskan mín will be waiting for me at the airport. He doesn’t even have a car, he’s taking the bus to pick me up! That’s true love right there.

Ive always dreaded leaving my beloved country of Iceland. I literally have cried each time I’ve left, actual tears.  This time is different. I want to stay forever and I also can’t wait to get back home. It’s such a strange dichotomy of emotions. But I know it means that I’m in love with him and with my life back home.

Moving to Portland nearly killed me. It has been one  of the most difficult times of my life.  I’ve been crippled by depression. I’ve been a total hermit spinsterhag for years. But I’ve turned a corner and now I love my life. I want to live it. Love helps but it’s not just my love for Andy it’s love for myself. For the world, as fucked up as it is it’s also beautiful and nourishing. For the first time in a very long time I cannot wait to see what happens.

Dont worry, I’ll keep you posted by posting.

Just don’t call me a Cougar!

My love affair with Iceland

F2F9DE41-2DC4-48AC-BEB3-CB0D14833254It was love at first sight.

I first visited Iceland 10 years ago. My love of Björk led me there. And my love for Iceland keeps me coming back.

Its beautiful. Epically gorgeous. It’s also full of amazing and creative people making incredible art, music, fashion, food, etc. They have a very black humour which I share. They might seem a bit cold at first to those who enjoy aggressive friendliness but once you get to know them they are warm and generous people. I have made wonderful friends. I feel like I’m a visitor more than a tourist.  My friends have welcomed me into their home like family. I’m currently on a bus going North to stay with my friends’ cousin who met me and invited me to stay with her.  I’m so fucking grateful for all the love and kindness being bestowed upon me!

Here  are a few of my favorite things about Iceland.

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The hot springs.  The swimming pools. Even the tap water is geothermal.  That sulfur smell is pure heaven to me.

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The fact that you must wash without your swimsuit before entering a pool  This means no nasty fecal matter floating in the water! Please do it.

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The walkability. I’ve been walking all over town, taking in the sights, taking photos and looking at the lovely shops with local made items.

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The prevalence of Art. The museums are amazing. The street art is amazing. Most people have at least one creative “hobby” if not a full fledged pursuit. Many are gifted in many different forms.  Art is part of life here, not something just for privileged people.

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The cats.  There are cats all over town, out and about.  I am forever trying to photograph them. Some are local stars and really know how to pose.

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The colorful houses. They brighten the city when it’s gloomy and grey. It’s cheerful even in the rain.

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It’s made a home in my heart. I miss it when I’m away. I never want to leave, except now that I have my elskan mín waiting at home for me I actually want to go home. To him. It’s blowing my mind. It’s lovely to be in love.

Someday I’ll bring my love to the place I love most and it’ll be an epic love fest.

For now I’m having the best time possible without him by my side. He’s keeping my heart warm from a thousand miles away.

Elskan mín

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It’s official.  I’m in love.  Meet my boyfriend, Andy from Weeds/AKA sk8 dude.  He’s rad.

The final rose ceremony was pretty anticlimactic.  I just decided to stop with the bullshit and  choose. Ed was drifting away anyway.  Benedict is still celibate (& maddeningly “wants me to be happy with Andy but also hopes I’m not attached for too long since his celibacy streak will end eventually.  Fuck.  If you wanted me I’ve been here all along, dude. Am I more appealing now that someone else wants me too?).

So it would appear that Andy kind of won by default, on the surface.  But he’s the right choice. He’s so sweet. Super sexy. Hilarious. I was just hesitant because on paper he looks like the guys I dated in my 20’s.  But he’s not, not really.

I got so used to guys being halfway into me, to wondering if they really liked me, that Andy’s upfront “I really like you” was a bit  terrifying.  It took me a minute to actually accept it. But once I did I felt so at home with him.

I’ve been missing him like crazy. And I never miss anything or anyone while I’m in Iceland! It’s unprecedented. He told me he loves me for the first in Instagram messenger! I’d almost said it before but swallowed it since it’s such early days. But it feels right. He makes me feel both crazy swooning in love and completely grounded at the same time.  I’m so happy.  He’s the best. I’m so grateful for tinder bringing us together, & for his being patient while I sorted out my shit and realized that he’s my guy.

I just hope being in love doesn’t kill my blog!

OCD

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I have a lot of OCD tendencies. I can be very, very particular. I like shit organized. It can drive me crazy but I try to keep it in check.

Lately it’s really been, like, flaring up.

My clothing drawers are grateful. But my work can really suffer when I’m super OCD-ing out. I get nit-picky. I try to be chill but it’s compulsive, dude… it’s hard. I do my best, which sometimes is really very shite.

It’s good timing for a vacation. I’m leaving tomorrow for 2 weeks in Iceland. My beloved. I love that place dearly, since my first visit 10 years ago, to the month. I’ll be free to relax, I won’t have to help anyone with their back pain or postural issues. I’ll be outside my routine and be jogged into a more present state. Things will be different and my urge for sameness and order will be overpowered by new stimuli, that is also familiar after so many visits. It’s like going on vacation and coming home at once.

I am unsure what has brought on this flare up. I’ve never thought of it having a flare up before, like sciatica, but that’s exactly how it is.

I have had a lot of chaos. Too many dicks will do that.

Time to slow down. And some things have shaken themselves out and I’ve got clarity, finally. I’ll be writing about all that soon enough, but for now it’s just tumbling around my mind like laundry. When I’m in Iceland it’ll be like hanging my mind on a clothesline, for the ocean breeze to cool down and clear out. Soaking in the hot pot at my favorite public swimming pool will relax my muscles. By Wednesday night I’ll be full of fish soup and happy as a fucking clam.

Are clams really that happy?