How A 3-Day Juice Cleanse Landed Me in the ER.

After eating a dozen cookies and having a conversation with my friend about eating the dozen cookies, she gave me the “great” idea to go on a juice cleanse. Unbeknownst to me, when most people say they’re detoxing, they usually mean only for a day. I honestly think it was an adverse effect from being all sugared up and under quarantine for so long, because nothing else could explain why I was so excited to starve myself for three days. In actuality, I’ve been wanting to try a juice cleanse for years, but I didn’t have the patience to keep cleaning a juicer and I didn’t have the funds to spend on something so frivolous.

Alas, these are weird times and I forked up the money to buy a 3-day juice cleanse from a local SF company. I figured it would be easier under SIP since I didn’t have the temptations of eating out or free snacks and lunch at work. I looked up side effects of a juice cleanse just to be safe, and felt like I could handle the headaches and feeling hungry. I chose the Classic Cleanse, which comes with the following juices at the following times. This is what Day 1 looked like:

8:00am Lemon Ginger Juice: Tastes like the lemon, ginger, turmeric water I used to make in the mornings
9:00am Green Juice: One of the better green juices I had, but still green juice
10:30am Nettle Tea: Not bad, but the color was an off putting dark green/black
12:30pm Carrot Ginger Soup: I opened up my fridge excited for this bland carrot soup, because it almost felt like I was about to eat real food. Before closing the fridge, I looked at the eggs, veggies, cheese, fruits and various other solid foods inside and in a singsongy voice said, “I’ll see you all soon my pretties!” It was about this time that I started to feel fatigue.
2:30pm Grapefruit Mint Juice: This was delicious! I could easily drink it on a hot day while tanning on my lawn next to my pool that doesn’t exist. The fatigue hit harder, and I decided to take a nap. I rarely take afternoon naps, not even when I’ve only slept for four hours.
5:00pm Green Juice: Again, not too bad. However, I started feeling extremely fatigue and my headache was turning into a migraine. I started to watch Contagion on Hulu, but my head was pounding and I started feeling nauseous, so I laid in bed instead.
7:00pm Cardamom Almond Milk: I was really looking forward to this one since Rach said it was delicious, and it was. Too bad I threw it all up shortly after. In between the green juice and almond milk, I started having the BGs, chills, and threw up several times. I felt like I was hungover with a migraine and food poisoning. I felt so weak, I drank the almond milk on my bedroom floor.
8:00pm Chamomile Ginger Tea: I managed to move from the floor at the foot of my bed, to the floor next to my nightstand where I could only drink half of Juice 8 before running to the bathroom once more. I fell asleep soon after.

Day 2 was thankfully better. No throwing up, but it still felt like someone was punching my brain behind my eyeball. I took a sick day, but continued the cleanse with caution – I ate a piece of toast for breakfast and then ate a handful of nuts throughout the day. For dinner I added a shake.

It’s Day 4 now, and I’m typing this fresh out the ER. On Day 3 of the cleanse I drank up to juice 4 and couldn’t stand to look at my laptop screen. My never ending migraine seemed to have increased in intensity, and I went to bed around 5pm with the chills. My temperature was 100.4°. Thirty minutes later it rose to 101.4°, so I took some Tylenol and went to sleep. When I woke up, I had a heavy 0-1feeling right below the middle of my chest and above my stomach. It didn’t hurt, but it was a bloated feeling and extremely uncomfortable. It just didn’t feel right. I got up to go to the bathroom, and a wave of nausea, cold, sweat, and pins and needles came over me. I’ve had food poisoning before and this wasn’t it. I pooped, and it was solid but very small. I threw up, but nothing really came out and when I got up to rinse my mouth, I felt the wave again. I must’ve passed out, because the next thing I remembered was being on my hands and knees on the bathroom floor. I got up to throw up again, and the same thing happened. This time, I landed butt first (I only know this, because my left ass cheek is still a little sore) and then on my back. I started hyperventilating and I couldn’t feel my hands or feet. I yelled for my boyfriend who was in the living room, but when my hands started to cramp up (think of how someone looks when they’re having a seizure) I asked him to call an ambulance. 

I spent the next 17 hours in the hospital, during which my fever peaked at 104°. They ran several tests on me including one for Covid (Negative btw, and the swab test wasn’t so bad. Just made me want to sneeze). Everything was fine, but they ran a CT scan and saw I had an inflamed gallbladder. They diagnosed me with acute cholecystitis and said I needed to have surgery that same day to get it removed. WHAT THE FUCK? I DID NOT SIGN UP FOR SURGERY. I thought they were just going to pump me with fluids and let me go home. I’d never had surgery before and even though this was a simple one, I was terrified especially since no one else was allowed to be there with me (thanks ‘Rona).

Luckily, they ordered me an ultrasound first to check for gallstones. Oddly to everyone, it came back not only negative for gallstones, but negative for inflammation as well. At the same time I was getting my ultrasound, the OR called to admit me into surgery. Had I not gotten the ultrasound, I’d be sans a gallbladder and still in the hospital right now. Both the surgeon specialist and ER doctor couldn’t figure out what happened. I wasn’t in pain, had no blood in my urine, or abnormal discharge, which trumped all of their other prognoses. Since they couldn’t determine the reason why I had such a high fever, the doctor didn’t feel comfortable releasing me, and wanted to keep me under observation for the next 12 hours. Since I was feeling no pain and my fever had gone down, I chose to go home, which is where I’m typing from right now. 


So what the fuck actually happened? I think it was either a) a bad batch of juice or b) my body had an extreme reaction to a hardcore juice cleanse. I found it weird that no one that worked at the hospital seemed to think the juice cleanse had anything to do with it. I was completely fine prior and almost immediately felt sick as soon as I started it. I even read about other people who’ve had similar negative experiences, which is the reason I continued the cleanse against my better judgment. After getting sick, I found this excerpt in an article about acute cholecystitis and it adds up.

“However, low-calorie, rapid weight loss diets should be avoided, because there is evidence they ca disrupt your bile chemistry and actually increase your risk of developing gallstones. A more gradual weight loss plan is best.”

It’s been two days since I was in the ER and I’m much better, but still feeling pretty weak. This crushes my soul a little bit, because I just found my stride with yoga, boxing, and feeling healthier than I’ve felt in a while. I can’t even eat all the yummy things I was looking forward to eating post-cleanse like Julie’s coconut passion-fruit cookies, or Tita-Ella’s bicol express and adobo, because I have to eat bland food for a while. The irony of it all. Imagine doing something to boost your health, only to have it do the exact opposite. 

“If it ain’t broken, don’t fix it”

Above all things, I’m feeling grateful. Grateful that it wasn’t anything worse, that I have health insurance, that Ryan was there for me, and that I’m back home. But I’m not going to lie, I also feel really, fucking STUPID. I paid hundreds of dollars to get myself sick and in the hospital, and will now have to pay even more money in medical bills – when nothing was wrong with me to begin with! I also feel defeated. This is petty, but I still had three more juices to finish and now feel like I’m weak for not completing the cleanse. I now feel incredibly dumb writing that thought out loud. 

I’m not telling you not to ever try a juice cleanse (well, kinda). There are plenty of people that have successfully completed them without any crazy side effects. But I hope my gnarly experience reminds you to:

  • Do extensive research before doing anything extreme to your body. When I Googled “Juice cleanse side effects” I only found stories about headaches, feeling hungry, and diarrhea. Once I searched for “Sick from juice cleanse” I found a whole bunch of other stories that probably would’ve deterred me from trying the cleanse … had I found these articles sooner.
  • LISTEN TO YOUR BODY! Don’t let your ego or pride decide anything in life.
  • Believe them when they say that a well balanced diet lifestyle trumps any diet – PERIODT.

I wish I had a more triumphant, inspiring ending for you, but this is my story. The silver lining in all of this, is I have never been more proud and protective of my body. I now know my limits, and am excited to get back to my regular scheduled program of yoga and veggies with the occasional sleeping in and lemon-raspberry cookies in between. I am even more focused on my health journey and taking it day by day. I might’ve failed the juice cleanse, but my mind has never been more clear. 


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Day 43 – The Isolation Journals: Say It New

Your prompt for today:
Write at least one full page of prose or a poem. It can be a made-up tale, a scene, a thing you’ve just done or seen. It can be a dream. But the one thing you can’t do is use a word that’s more than one syllable.

Huh? Wait? What! No way! Come on, it’s fun. Trust me, it is. And, sure, it is tough. At least when you start. But your voice will jazz in new ways. The beats of the words will pop in new ways. You will have to walk this way and that and bend and stretch to find your way to say the thing you need to say. Which means you will write in new ways. Which is cool. It will not sound as odd as it seems. (Just look… the one word in this whole long prompt that is not one syllable… is the word “syllable.”)

P.S. If you need more of a boost, here are some more words to use: wood, whir, first, red, brush, trace, friend.

Do the write thing.
Just don’t stop.
Keep on and on and on*
Let your words flow, this way and that.
There is no way to go back*
So run and leap and jump and fly with your pen.
Then do it some more*
You. Got. This.
Trust the heat in your heart*
Start now.
You are a Queen. You are a King. You are a work of art.*
Paint and sing.
A dream now real life.
I knew you could do it.
You did not give up.
Sing. Dance. Play. Cry. Laugh.
Put the pen down and sit in your joy.
Then, rise the next day like it is the first day.

Author notes:
Couldn’t say “keep going”
I couldn’t say “no going back”
I wanted to write “then do it again”
Couldn’t use the word “fire”
Wanted to say “masterpiece” or “soldier”

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Day 39 – The Isolation Journals: The Badder the Better

all over the place.
no smooth transitions.
bad grammar. not on purpose.
fluff. pointless. empty words. nothing heartfelt.
stuck. writer’s block.
forced. fake.
unsatisfying. unfulfilled.
nothing quotable.
no witty ending. no gem drop.
i even feel bad when i hit “published”.
failed. giving up. why do i even bother.

Your prompt for today:
Write a bad poem. What does a “bad” poem mean to you? Interrogate that. Is it a poem that sounds like a sappy greeting card, starting with “Roses are red,” or “How do I love thee?” Maybe “bad” means something about form to you. A poem with too much rhyme in it, so every line is a singsong. Or maybe a bad poem has no form at all, so the lines wander across the page, maybe in your least favorite font (Comic Sans?), the tackiest color (neon purple?), or the worst pen (blunt Sharpie?).

Or maybe “bad” isn’t about the shape or the quality of the writing at all, but about the content. A “bad” poem might mean saying the things you shouldn’t say, or feeling the things you’re not supposed to feel, or copping to your pettiest, dumbest, most embarrassing complaints. Let your “bad” self say the thing you don’t let yourself say. If you want to swear, swear. If you want to write the word “NO” over and over for twenty lines straight, then—yes.

The badder the better. It might be so bad it’s good.

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a day like today.

some days it’s no snooze button and not being distracted during meditation. it’s a matching yoga outfit and hitting every pose. it’s a well-balanced breakfast and mushroom coffee. it’s shaving your legs and even brushing your hair, a vitamin-c serum and clear, dewy skin. it’s laying in the grass while the sun kisses your face, a warm breeze tickling your tummy, and no shoes on.

some days it’s zoom happy hours with hats and scarves and sunglasses and even makeup. it’s Babyface vs Teddy Riley (can you hear me now?) and a luxurious glass of wine. it’s uni pasta and sushi grade tuna. it’s a clay mask and a furry robe while sipping on bubbles.

other days it’s ramen. a hard boiled egg, or nothing at all. it’s making excuses and not answering any calls or text messages. it’s a messy room and messy head. an unmade bed, and made up mind to be miserable. it’s wilting flower petals and dirty dishes piled up in the sink. unopened mail and a reflection in the mirror that reminds you of all the things you used to love to hate.

other days it’s waking up in a daze because you only had three hours of sleep. it’s keeping the door closed and blackout curtains down even at 1:30pm. it’s forcing yourself out of bed only to lay on the couch. it’s wallowing in misery and finding comfort in your resentment. it’s neglecting your responsibilities, and ignoring the fact that you are still stronger than your worst day. it’s refusing to choose joy, because the anger almost empowers you.

like i said, we have our good days and we have our bad days. but even on the bad days, you can still find something good.

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Shelter in Guilt.

One of my biggest regrets in life – yes, even more than answering a certain phone call or returning that text, is credit card debt. It all started in college when I used my credit card to book a trip to Miami for me and three of my friends. They gave me cash, but being 20 years old and dumb, I didn’t use it to pay my credit card bill *Insert downward credit card debt spiral here*. Since then, I have always been in debt for one reason or another. When I paid off my car, I still had my credit card bills, and when I paid off my credit card bills, I still had my school loan.

That is, up until last week. Your girl finally paid off her school loan, and is now completely debt free. Paying off debt is probably the only time it feels good to lose money. While it cost me thousands of dollars, the peace of mind I received and lesson I learned was priceless. So then why did I almost feel bad about it?

Having the luxury of being able to spend money during a pandemic when small businesses are closing and friends and family are getting laid off, is bittersweet. I went back and forth about posting the accomplishment on social media. It wasn’t necessary to tell the world, but had it been any other time I wouldn’t have thought twice. I don’t consider myself empathetic, but I wanted to be sensitive to people who might be watching my stories and struggling. I already felt guilty for being employed and able to safely work from home. I told my best friend instead, and she was my biggest hype man. I shared my achievement on Instagram the next day. 

I’ve learned that being proud and being compassionate does not have to be mutually exclusive. Just because you post a photo of your kids, it doesn’t mean you don’t feel for those who can’t have any. Working hard and being disciplined is not something you should feel guilty about. It’s OK to be happy during a not so happy timeit’s OK to be happy PERIODT. Besides, the world could use some good news right now. 


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Skin QuranRoutine.

You guys. This will probably jinx me with three huge zits on my chin tomorrow morning, but dare I say it? My skin has been better than ever since SIP. Too bad nobody else can fucking see it *insert end of the world emoji here*. It makes me wonder just how damaging the sun and pollutants in the air are considering my skin is nice only now that I’ve been indoors for a month. Nevertheless, I thought I’d share my updated skincare routine, because … well, I ain’t got shit else to do. If you know me, you know I’ve had issues with my skin for even longer than I’ve had this blog, so finding products that don’t make me break out within 24 hours of applying it is a rarity. I’ve tried a plethora of products, from a $200 bottle of Dr. Sturm moisturizer to an $8.00 tube of Biore face scrub and have finally found what works for me … until it doesn’t. Thanks to those who have given suggestions, and especially to my skincare savior E!

Facewash Korres Greek Yoghurt foaming Cream Cleanser $26: I liked how gentle Cetaphil was, but found that it didn’t take off my makeup well. Then, I found this video of Manny MUA’s where he raved about it, and haven’t looked back since. I’ve been using it for over a year now, and love it. It’s gentle, takes off my my makeup (except for waterproof eye products), and smells good.

Toner Thayers Witch Hazel Alcohol Free Toner (unscented) $7-$10: I’ve read so many articles throughout the years recommending this product, but for some reason never tried it until someone on IG suggested it. I’m on my second bottle now, and have no complaints. It’s also super affordable (Thank God, ‘cuz most of my products aren’t).

Serums Drunk Elephabt’s A-Passioni Retinol Cream & B-Hydra Intensive Hydration Serum (sample size) $28: To be honest, the only reason these two products are currently a part of my routine is because they were free samples I received. Redness on my face is the one issue I just can’t seem to get rid of, but I’ve heard numerous times that retinol helps with it. I use these in my nighttime routine and alternate along with my Dr. Dennis Gross pads, which I’ll talk about later.

Sunday Riley’s C.E.O. 15% Vitamin C Brightening Serum $85: This is one of the newest products that I’ve added to my regimen. If there’s one product asides from the basics (cleanser, toner, moisturizer) that skin savant’s have recommended for my skin issues and in general, it’s Vitamin C. It supposedly targets dullness, dark spots, and signs of aging. I really hope it works for me, because I’m trying to look “Not too old for TikoTok” young still.

Moisturizer Kiehl’s Ultrafacial Cream $53: Tried and true, I’ve been using this since my boyfriend ruined my life with high end skin products when we first started dating. He randomly bought this for me and my skin actually liked it, so I’ve been stuck with it ever since.

Exfoliant Dr. Dennis Gross Alpha Beta Ultra Sensitive Daily Peel Pads $88: I never used to exfoliate. I also didn’t realize that exfoliating meant more than using an apricot pit scrub *gasp*. Apparently, exfoliating is one of the leading ways to unclog your skin and avoid breakouts. My girl E has been recommending these pads as her holy grail foreverrrr, and I kept holding off, because they’re so fucking expensive. One day (probably drunk on payday) I gave in and purchased them. After an initial week or so of getting tiny bumps on my chin and random places, the “activity” has stopped completely except for when it’s hormonal, which can’t be helped sometimes. Can’t wait until the next VIB promo, so I can grab my next box.

Sleep mask Laneige Cica Sleeping Mask $34: This was probably an unnecessary purchase, but all the money I’ve been saving under quarantine justified it (I’m being sarcastic). Truth is, E also raved about this product and she hasn’t done me wrong yet. Her review combined with Sephora’s five star reviews, and the fact that it soothes redness in the skin made it a no brainer. I can’t tell yet if it’s doing anything for me, but I’m sure I’ll post an update on Instagram if it does.

Sunscreen Supergoop’s Superscreen Daily Moisturizer $38: Both of my best friends, Ness and Rach, highly recommended this product. So naturally, I tried their everyday sunscreen that came in a tube instead (smh). No bueno. This is why you should listen to your besties, the tube formula gave me those infamous little red bumps. Feeling a little defeated, I tried the Superscreen, and although it’s thicker than I like, my skin likes it. (Kiehls’ ultra fluid sunscreen also works for me, but I wanted to try Superscreen since it’s also a moisturizer. I keep my bottle of Kiehl’s in my purse though and take it to the beach with me.

Daytime Routine: Facewash, toner, vitamin C, Superscreen

Alternating Nighttime Routine: 
Facewash, toner, B-Hydra+ moisturizer
Facewash, toner, retinol + moisturizer
Facewash, peel pads, sleep mask

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All Because of Rice.

I had a moment as I was cleaning rice today. I felt the grains slip between my fingers, saw the water turn a milky grey and thought about all the “Filipino-ness” I took for granted growing up.

I haven’t kept white rice in the house for over a decade now and have been eating frozen brown rice from Trader Joe’s for the past two years. Yes, I am a bad Asian.  Since quarantine however, I’ve gone back to my roots. I am now thankful for growing up on corned beef, Spam, liverwurst, and vienna sausages. But I’ve realized that while I love Spam in masuibi, it’s been years since I’ve cooked with it. There’s just something unsettling about that loud slurp it makes when it slides out the can. No food should make noise when you cook it, but definitely not that noise.

I hadn’t had corned beef and cabbage since my great-grandmother Nana was still alive. It was soupy and delicious. I remember ordering it for the first time after she passed and ended up with the Irish version, which don’t get me wrong , is good – just not what Nana used to make. I legitimately didn’t even know there was any other kind of corned beef and cabbage until then. Along with beef nilaga (which all the kids just called “soup and rice”) and sotanghon soup, these three dishes were staples at our 2-bedroom apartment on Taraval and 40th in the Sunset. Aptly dubbed “Hotel Taraval,” because anyone who recently immigrated to San Francisco stayed there, it housed a rotating mass of tenants with up to eight at once. Not sure how I managed to sleep in a room with my mom, great-grandmother, and cousin at the same time. It doesn’t take much to wake me up nowadays.

During a Christmas party, my Uncle-Dave “bugged” me while I was using his computer most likely acting a fool in some AOL chatroom. I use the word bugged in quotes, because I was in his house on his computer. At any rate, I was in high school and didn’t care about family. We all have that stage. He said I should be in the living room talking to Nana, because she wouldn’t be around long and had some good stories to tell. Obviously, I now wish I had left whatever Brooklyn chatroom I was in to hear one of those stories.

I wish I had learned more Tagalog. I wish I had helped roll lumpia, and memorized more recipes. I wish I had helped Nana make coconut oil. She would be laughing at how popular it is now. You know how people feel about Vicks? Nana would make coconut oil from scratch. Back when her old bones were still agile enough to sit on a small wooden stool with a coconut grater attached at the end resembling some medieval torture device. The entire apartment would smell like coconut for days, but it was always worth it. Got a headache? Coconut oil. Back hurts? Coconut oil. Wrinkles? Coconut oil.

I was never ashamed to be Filipino and I never denied it. No one ever made fun of me for it either. I just always envied how beautiful ambiguity was. I wanted to have people wonder if I was part Hawaiian or  mestiza or hapa. It was dumb. My Tita-Shirley once tried to teach me Tagalog and I made fun of myself and called the accent “ugly”. “Don’t say that,” she said and now I am so fascinated by my friends who can speak fluently, and am embarrassed to hear myself  attempt Tagalog with a “white” accent and broken sentences.

Now I see Instagram posts of all these magical, “exotic”, tropical paradises like the white sand beaches of Boracay, clear waters of Siargao, private boats in Palawan, and sand bars in Cebu and I can’t help, but think “That’s BEEN there, that’s BEEN home”. Have you drank soda out of a plastic bag? Have you made your own shampoo from Guamamela leaves? Have you taken a cold shower from a plastic trash bin? Then, you haven’t visited the Philippines.

But who am I to say shit like that? Me, someone who only comes back once a decade. Who would still, to this day choose to live in the United States over the Philippines any day? I can’t even speak Tagalog for crying out loud! So how do you determine your Filipino-ness? It’s a fucked up question right?

I don’t actually think there’s a wrong answer, and I know it’s different for everyone. For me, it was the feeling I felt in those few minutes I was washing rice. It was feeling some type of way seeing all of these photos of the Philippines on Instagram, because I’ve also seen and stayed in the slums as well. It’s my great-grandmother’s paper-thin skin on her hands, wrinkled yet smooth. Hand that have never had a license or drove a car or had a paycheck, because her only job was to take care of her family. It’s the smell of nilaga, tinola, and adobo just as you lift the lid off the pot. It’s the leftover halo-halo milk, getting another heaping spoonful of salty eggs, onions and tomatoes for your rice. It’s rolling lumpia while rolling with laughter, because Filipinos do not have cute, dainty laughs. (Maybe that’s the real way to gauge someone’s Filipino-ness).

I became an American citizen in 2009. During the oath ceremony, there was a part that asks you to “Give up allegiance to any other nation or sovereign, and renounce hereditary or noble titles, if any” and for a split second I felt sad, but mostly guilty. I felt like I was giving up a part of me. The funny thing is I think the minute I relinquished my Filipino citizenship, I represented it even more. 

I can’t take back those years of ignorance, but I can pass it down as knowledge for future generations to come – including my own. So my dear, beautiful, young people: learn the language, and stay in the family room where it’s loud and crazy and maybe even a little boring. Cook with your elders. No matter how ratchet or thuglife you are, “bless” inay and tatay when you see them. Don’t be nasty, take your shoes off when you enter the house. Taste the food – you don’t have to like it or eat it ever again, but at least TASTE IT. Embrace your melanin (or lack of it, because us Pinays come in many shades) – JUST BE YOU. Support your people. Whether it’s by having your office party catered by a local, authentic restaurant or buying a straw purse from Tita-Baby’s cousin’s neighbor’s brother in-laws shop instead of Forever 21. Read about the history – the good and the bad. And when you take that trip to the motherland for your 30th birthday with all your friends, make sure to leave the luxury resort that costs you nothing to stay at and visit the humble beginnings of your ancestors. Just don’t forget to bring me back pasalubong. 


I don’t know this woman, but she was making a traditional vakul hat that women wore to shelter themselves from the sun and rain. One now hangs on the wall in my bedroom.

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Shit Bitches Love Quarantine Edition IX

I’ve documented the shit that bitches love for the past few years. Just as the tides change, seasons change and what we love changes along with it. What better time to write a new edition than while in quarantine and I ain’t got shit else to do? It will be a good way to for me to self document and hopefully get a kick out of in the future. Hoping you get a kick out of it too. 

Tik Tok. Good God y’all love this shit so much – TOO MUCH. Not going to lie, it’s entertaining and creative for the most part … until I see someone use it wrong. Last time I checked, the main points were to use music and some sort of choreography. Since it’s first emergence, it’s involved to intricate lip-syncs of KUWTK episodes. While I don’t have an account myself, I ain’t mad at it. Thanks for staying inside to film these and keeping the rest of us entertained. Bitches love being a savage (and classy and boughie and ratchet).

Whipped-Coffee-1Dalgona coffee. I haven’t drank coffee for maybe two months now. Ever since Rach put me onto Mudwatr I’ve drank that almost everyday and save the frappacinos and mint mojito’s from Philz for special occasions. Still, it was impossible to escape the Dalgona coffee trend. Almost every other story on my feed one morning had the delicious, whipped drink on it. Similar to a Greek frappe, it’s equal parts instant coffee, sugar, and boiling hot water whipped into a fluffy cloud and placed on your milk of choice. It tastes delicious. Unfortunately, it also tastes like insomnia and an immediate trip to the bathroom. Bitches love things that are sweet and bad for them.

IG challenges. Any of them. All of them, but especially the #DontRushChallenge. There’s a bunch of different versions now – Cambodia, MUA, Nigerian, keto, healthcare, drag queens, desi, gym, etc. etc. and I really enjoy them. Just don’t ever ask me to be in one of them. That would require effort, and I’ve worn the same thing for two days straight and haven’t showered. Bitches love not giving a fuck.

Baking bread. Yooo, when the hell did everyone turn into a bread baker? Ya’ll done turned your kitchens into Tartine and I’m over here shoving King’s Hawaiian bread in my mouth as I type this. I’m not hating at all, I’m here for it. I just have questions. Did you already carry yeast in your pantry? Is banana bread that fucking good? Can I have some of whatever you make next. Bitches love making bread.


Tiger King. I remember browsing through the section of new Netflix releases before Tiger King took off thinking that the trailer looked interesting. I figured, “Sure, why not?!” My boyfriend was surprised. Next thing you know we’re done with the entire series in two days. I can recall saying, “WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!” several times during our binge watching. It was a classic case of you can’t make this shit up. Hate to say it, but I was obsessed and judging by the amount of memes, interviews, and Tiger King themed Zoom parties that have occurred since it’s debut, I wasn’t the only one obsessed. Bitches love big cats. But they hate that bitch Carole. Baskin. 





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What am I?

Intimacy. Licking your brain, while massaging mine. Exploring you inside and out. Becoming one then two then one again. Feeling you. Tasting you. Loving you. Lingerie and tailored suits, sundresses and basketball shorts. A deep exhale, a slow groan. A tickled moan. Beer kisses and a scratch on your belly. A beginning and an end. 

#writingwithRupi Today I participated in my second, online poetry workshop with the amazing Rupi Kaur. In this exercise, the prompt was to write the word “sex” (here, hold my beer). Then, we were to write all the words we associated with it. Then, we had to write about sex without using any of those words. We weren’t allowed to stop, or make edits. The whole process was stressful yet cathartic, and I was humbled at how many participants were such amazing writers. I hope you enjoy this little poem from someone that is not a poet.

For those of you still with me, the words I couldn’t use were:
Morning stretch
Garlic butter, bone marrow, uni pasta *shrugs*
A good book

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The Isolation Journals – Day 2: Nora McInerny

I am now on Day 26 of sheltering in place. My household started a week before it became official, and the cabin fever has finally settled in. On Monday I had the realization that while “This too shall pass”, it’s in no rush to. Still, every time someone asks how I’m doing, I tell them I’m “Good”. Sometimes I tell them I’m “Chillen,” but all of the time I tell them I’m grateful. 

I feel so much gratitude that I almost feel guilty about it. I feel even more guilty when I secretly judge those who choose grief over gratitude. I really need to work on my empathy, I used to be the person I now judge and am very well aware that everyone deals differently.

The truth is, I’m not good. But I’m also not, not good. So when someone asks, I choose to say the former, because it’s the easier answer. I say I’m good and that’s the end of the conversation. Any other answer has the potential to turn polite small talk into a pity party you do not want to attend and one I’m not sure I want to throw. Me not, not feeling good also has nothing to do with the pandemic. It has everything not to do with it.

It has to do with the hassle of moving. It has to do with anxiety ridden insomnia. It has to do with the depression that immediately follows a really bad night of anxiety ridden insomnia. It has to do with feeling unsupported. It has to do with my fertility doctor “highly recommending” I have a baby sooner than later (sooner as in now). It has to do with the unknown, and it has to do with feeling unfulfilled amongst other things.

It sounds like a lot when I put it all in one paragraph like that, but everyone is dealing with a lot right now. Dealing with all of those things separately is enough to make any person be not good. Throw in a pandemic, and it can make someone feel awful. But I don’t feel awful either. I know you’re not supposed to say this, but I feel just fine. And today, fine is good with me. 

Your prompt for today:
Put yourself in a moment where you were not fine. Maybe you were terrible, and maybe you were TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE. Put yourself back in that moment when you lied. Why did you do it? Whose feelings were you trying to save? Write what you wish you would have said, and imagine where that honest conversation could have led you.

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