go Here!

HI Hi! I’m writing here now: Future Presents

It’s too much to update everything across so many platforms. I need to streamline and the Substack format is more efficient. So go there! see what I’ve been doing at the ripe age of 34! I’ve been unwrapping myself slowly and it’s all quite personal. Guten tag

futurepresents.substack.com

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I put my prom dress on the other night when I was alone, the one I wore 17 years ago. I’ve always loved the brown, but it is so revealing I can’t believe I wore that out. Oh how I caved in on myself over the years.

slowly reemerging.




the naming

boppie - if I ever am a grandparent I want to be Boppie.

I want to name a dog Dumbie like Gumby and Dumbo. I want to name a dog Dormitory and another Santana Beans.

I want to name another pet Smurfie and if I had a rabbit, I know I’d end up calling it Woofers. Woofers the third.

I want to name a gerbil Albatross and two Betta fish Credit and Debit and see which one wins because aren’t those supposed to aggressive? I don’t actually want a gerbil or fish I just like naming things.

How often do you think ‘Cry Me a River’ is played in Crimea?

My best friend’s name is Michela and phones used to autocorrect Michela to ‘Nickels’ so Nickels became her drunk alter ego and I love this and I love Nickels.

There was a regular at Lodge that would come in every other day with her baby Harvest and she would yell “Harvest, No!” across the bakery.

that’s all, over and out

Look at me, the Emotional Referee

Look at me.

No don’t actually, not directly i’m uncomfortable.

Direct your undivided attention toward me but don’t look at me directly 

I feel deeply uneasy and embarrassed with live attention on me, but all i want is your attention

Look into my eyes, see how much I mean it, think that I am interesting and wantable, think that I am good enough on my own. 

Do all of that some day, but not now. I’m having too good a time sitting alone drinking energy drinks

Healthy ones 

with L-theanine and ashwaganda!


Anyway. Have you heard? 

I am the emotional referee.

Picture a child in a large sleep shirt and viking hat.

Whispering orders, nay suggestions

That no one will listen to 

so say them louder and 2 whole minutes will pass and the mom will say what jules? 

Christ in a handbasket! Hell in a bucket list! 

Morgan Freeman

If only the emotional referee were Morgan Freeman they would listen

But my dad would likely find a way to slip in something kiiiinda racist

SHUT UP

JUST SHUT UP CAN WE GET JUST ONE PEACEFUL 10 MINUTE CHUNK?

Ahahahahahhaa ! coming from the witch in the upstairs sauna. Never!

ok

Bruce - Shh. go upstairs and take half a xanax, here’s your phone so you won’t come back downstairs for 2 hours

Blair - strap on the breathing treatment over your face and let’s give your outrage and little demon voice a little breather. Also here’s your phone to message with your boyfriend in florida

Deb - here’s your phone, computer and stack of papers. And do you want a mini ice cream cone?

I’m leaving! goodnight!

This emotional referee kinda sucks at the job, but whistles and red cards don’t work with this crew and in her defense she didn’t fucking sign up to be the ref.  

cookie

these images are from utah

it’s pretty huh?

i am crumbling!

2,

my desire to communicate and my desire to hide are duking it out

happy friday, people of the world

ol grammy

well, good evening my friends and goulash pie

I am all clenched up on the couch having a lot of thoughts. I haven’t smoked weed in 4 months until 20 minutes ago, the longest I’ve ever gone in probably 15 years. numbers! those are some numbers.

this time period of life that I’ve hit would be named The Upheaval.

I am proud of myself for doing little yoga videos and I am proud of myself when I can pause and check into my nervous system before I react and then feel upset at myslelf and consumed with self-Eww-ing.

it is highly uncomfortable to do it, to squirm around in your skin, fully inhabiting your body, ordering iced tea and sparkling water, waking up early, going to therapy, raw dogging life.

the lows aren’t nearly as low, and I know it feels better in my body. But it’s so much less fun.

have you been a nincompoop lately?

I do hope you are well and give ol’ Grammy my best

list number 66

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Sorry for Bleeding

Dr. Nary Noonk

free writing!

ROBERT DURST + Robert Plant

helga g pataki

Greek casserole with salad

Richmond, London

Pumpkin Coconut Soup and a Cheese and Sage Toast at Petersham Nurseries Tea House

One week in Richmond to kick off the wild journey.

Our studio was directly above an engagement ring store and a Five Guys.

We watched the Crown and had a snack from 3am-6am every night as we couldn’t adjust to the time.

Knott's Berry Farm

I had thrown myself into tailspins about going to Knott’s in October. I had heard everyone’s stories - Knott’s scared the shit out of people. Friends of friends of friends had left crying, there are no safe zones -they could follow you into the bathroom!

I was supposed to finally be facing my fear, because everyone in high school went and had fun and got scared together and it was an exciting little juvenile bonding experience. 

My mom dropped us off, 2 boys 2 girls. We stood in the massive hoards of people all waiting to get in, giving me more time to work up to a level of panic where I decided that NO ACTUALLY I’m not going in. I called my mom to ask her to turn around and come get me. I was embarrassed about my dramatic display and felt physically ill. When I got home, I threw up, spiked a fever and was sick for several days. 

So no,  not a cool kid. 



pirates' bronchitis

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She’s a geezer and a wheezer. it wheezes, because she is smoking weed too much still

"Geezah and a Wheezah!” is a great expression

my dad’s 55+ friends got truly offended when I referred to them as ‘the geezers’ when I was 17.

ok good day keep geezing on.

utah

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Utah and Zion were otherworldly. so so beautiful

way too much trump stuff around town though

ribbits

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Why can’t i let go of Safari and just pivot to Chrome for good?

I truly don’t know.

odd familiar attachments, i suppose.

Why cant i let go of staying up til 5am dicking around?

because i love it

shaved brussels and the world is melting

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This shaved Brussels sprout salad is a once in a while stand-by. red onion and pecorino (or parmesan or grana padano) A dressing of lemon juice and olive oil, a teaspoon of mustard and honey — the fine shaving makes all the difference here, it’s worth the extra 1x1 sprout shredding effort. It is excellent with grilled meats, good in tacos / good next to tacos, it’s great next to mac and cheese, or a grilled cheese, or any kind of barbecue.

I love good salads at restaurants, they’re all about technique and balance and freshness and care. The other night my family went out to eat at a newer Italian restaurant in mb for my mom’s birthday. My dad scoffed at the portion sizes, and I had to agree. Joe and I ordered a chopped salad to split that came out in a medium cereal bowl. It was rather plain and lifeless, big chunks of raddichio, a bagged-salad level chopped salad.

this clunky side salad for $17, regret

I’ve made the Mozza chopped salad a couple times and made it again recently. it is so so good, the opposite of lifeless and also very much worth all the chopping and slicing.


SHAVED BRUSSELS SPROUTS SALAD

from Merrill Stubbs via food52

1/2 small red onion, thinly sliced

1 lemon, juiced

1 teaspoon honey

1 teaspoon whole grain mustard

1 pinch salt and freshly ground black pepper

1 tablespoon olive oil

3 cups Brussels sprouts

1/2-3/4 cup finely grated pecorino romano

Soak the red onion slices in a little bowl of cold water for 15 minutes while you prep the rest

In a small bowl, combine lemon juice, honey, mustard, a pinch of salt and pepper, and whisk. Whisk in the olive oil until emulsified.

Trim all the Brussels sprouts - slice off the hard root end and any bruised parts, peel away any funky outer leaves. Using a mandoline, finely shave the sprouts one by one. When done, run your fingers through to separate the leaves so that the shredded sprouts resemble a fine slaw.

Drain the water from the red onion. Put the shredded sprouts in a bowl and toss with the onions and the dressing. fold in the pecorino, taste and adjust seasonings if need be. bon appetito

locked down in new mexico

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Two days before we got to New Mexico, we got alerts that the state of New Mexico was imposing a new 2 week full lockdown stay at home order starting the day we arrived. It wasn’t the week we had envisioned. Taos and Santa Fe were ghost towns, our own zombie apocalypse movie set. No one was out, nothing was open and we commiserated about the pottery we wouldn’t be able to take home.

No Meow Wolf, no Georgia O’Keefe museum, no Cafe Pasquals. We said big bumskies but also OH WELL, we made our own food and made our own fun and had the streets of Santa Fe to ourselves.

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the good old open road

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the day after the election on November 4th 2020, my friend Michela and I left los angeles and went on a road trip

Las Vegas — Springdale/Zion National Park — Big Water, Utah / Page, AZ — Moab — Steamboat Springs, CO —

Denver — Taos, NM — Santa Fe — Sedona, AZ

Post-election, the cases were rising again everywhere. we saw so many versions of ‘life during covid’ as we went from place to place. We were scoffed at for wearing masks in utah and arizona. A Thai food place had snarky signs taped up about ‘the Kung Flu or Wuhan Virus’. We covered hotel couches with bath towels, we made hard boiled eggs in the mornings.

The pandemic has been so fucking weird

octopus vs crips

Crip Camp was nominated for Best Documentary at the Oscars this past year.

It didn’t win, My Octopus Teacher took home the award. 

This did not surprise me because My Octopus Teacher was awesome. When Juliette recommended it to me, I watched it the next day.

It took me months to watch Crip Camp. mooonths

Every time I’d see my mom and sister, they’d both ask me if I’d watched it yet. Blair (my only sibling who has cerebral palsy) had already watched it 3 times. 

“You’ve gotta watch it! It’s awesome. And so cool that the Obamas produced it!”

“I know I gotta watch it, I will!” 

And I was going to, but I kept putting it off. it had become an item on the Ugh, to-do list

I have spent so much of my life in and around the special needs universe, it is unlike me to voluntarily choose more of it. 

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For those that don’t know of it, Crip Camp is about ‘a hippie-like summer camp “for the handicapped” in the Catskills’ in the 1970s. It was a place where a group of teenagers with disabilities were set free. free and connected, finally. 

free of overprotective parents and rules! free of the society that overlooks them

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Joe and I finally watched it. One of the girls with CP reminded me so much of Blair - very similar "full body-affected" Cerebral Palsy with heavily slurred speech, smart, mischievous, funny with her one liners. There's a part in the movie where she says the proudest moment of her life was when a doctor told her she had contracted Gonorrhea.

The 2nd half of the movie follows the same group of disabled friends post-camp in their fight for basic accessibility in public places. The simplest of things - curb cut outs in the sidewalk, elevators in subway stations. This part of it was harder to consume, I became overwhelmed.

I felt deep feelings of guilt for not knowing about so much of it. Guilt is my specialty, it lives inside of me like an old anchor. I realized how new ‘accessibility’ really was. I hadn’t learned about the activists who occupied the San Francisco Welfare Offices for 28 days with help from the Black Panther Party. I felt ashamed for not knowing much at all about how the American Disabilities Act of 1990 came to be.

Anyway, I think about Blair and the monster feelings this movie must stir up for disabled people like her.

I think about the idea of dedicating your life to something so important, productive and impactful. Your cause

I think about what it would feel like to see the culmination of your life’s work fighting to enact change over the course of 50 years get beat by a movie about a man and his friend Octopus. 

I am not saying they gave the award to the wrong film. 

And I'm not saying I think Crip Camp should have won because it's more important or because of the emotional weight it carries.

I can say Crip Camp is important without saying anything to take away from or minimize My Octopus Teacher. 

I can say My Octopus Teacher was wildly beautiful and meditative to watch and Crip Camp made me anxious.

I can say I think it would definitely be good for the world if everyone was made to watch a movie like Crip Camp and I also understand why people most likely won't. 

And I can say to myself, it is perfectly okay to put off watching movies you know will bring you anxiety.

Empathy for all

and to all a goodnight

wild brains

I've had variations of a certain dream over and over and over through the years: I am driving and I can't keep my eyes open. 

My head is bobbing all around as I try to open my concrete Benadryl eyes and steer the car on the highway. and I'm panicking because the car is swerving everywhere, people are honking and I'm in a seizure-like head-dropping trance, absolutely about to crash.

But it keeps going and it definitely makes no sense that I haven't yet crashed. And I feel myself wishing that it would just crash and be over with because this feeling of trying to keep my head up and eyes open to do something as simple as looking out the window to steer is complete torture.

Every moment of the dream is a feeling of struggle while bracing myself for the crash.

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A couple years ago, I was meeting with my psychiatrist at one of our standard check-ins. She was conducting a classic game of 'Rate Your Depression' and I said something about feeling asleep at the wheel. I heard myself say the words, 'living asleep at the wheel'. my mind then left my body and my little tootsie brain just about popped off. 

no fucking shit

I couldn't believe I hadn't made the connection sooner.

and it feels so true, I am sleeping at the goddamn wheel, Nancy! 

life is happening to me, slapping me in the face, as I am not steering properly. 

10 and 2 bitch, drink some green tea and wake the fuck up

And if you don't continuously work on the things that help to lift a feeble mind and body above the haze, 

the struggle slogs on. 

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an analysis of this dream from the internet: 

Dreaming about falling asleep at the wheel is a warning for some unresolved issue which you are not addressing. Your dream hints at your raging emotions which have been held back and repressed for a long time. You cannot always do everything on your own, you may feel on the verge of exploding. 

Confusion, troubles, uncertainty and worry. Your recurrent dreams are a crash course in the dangers of leading a frenetic lifestyle. Being in the driver's seat is a sign of your drive and ambition and your unwillingness to put on the brakes. But trying to make an impact in life appears to be driving you to distraction. 

Perhaps you feel time is running out for you. Crashing is a symbol of your need for self-confrontation. You must face up to your reckless behavior and reverse course. You must slow down and assess the road ahead.

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The Brain 

All it's tricks and crevices. hidden passageways. a map with its own keys, rusted locks and trapdoors guarded by trolls. the smartest mush around.  the brain 

a real mindfuck, if you will. 

good to the last drop

Jay Keller

the legendary

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Jay Keller was raised on a dairy farm in Pennsylvania where he went to a one room school house. He moved to California in the 1970s and has been one of my mom’s closest friends for 45 years. 

Jay was the first gay person I knew. He was also the most fun adult I knew.

He once had a massive bale of hay delivered to my mom's front door so that it blocked the whole doorway and she couldn’t get out. Her and her friends later bought him an actual sheep as a gift and left it with him at his going away party.

I knew he was sick when I was little, but I didn’t know that it was because he had AIDS until I was 12 or so.

He was horribly sick in the early 90s, before the miracle drugs. He was rail thin. My mom told me that weed oh Holy Ganja saved his life through that time, it was the only thing that could get him to eat.

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He continued on to teach 5th and 6th grade geography for decades in Hermosa Beach. He was known to leave other teachers provocative notes 'from the janitor'. He’d take his classes on "field trips" to get Indian food for them to try new foods. He gave out “Goodie Two Shoes Detentions” and made every kid memorize the poem part of Thriller for Halloween. 

“Darkness falls across the land..”

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I’d hang out at his house sometimes after school, times when my mom was in a bind and needed someone to take me. He never made it seem like he was doing her a favor. He genuinely seemed to want to hang out and talk and make me laugh. 

I’ll always remember a time we had to cancel a much anticipated Disneyland day because my sister had to go to the hospital. Someone dropped me off at Jay’s house for the night and I was bumming hard. He put a wig on and made me wear one too. We walked to get dinner at El Pollo Inka, I'd never had Peruvian food and I remember feeling so excited by the whole meal experience - the hot tea to start, then Peruvian soda and the best chicken i’d ever tasted. Then we watched Who Wants to be a Millionaire on his very exciting big screen tv until I fell asleep and someone came to pick me up. It's proven to be far more memorable than a trip to Disneyland. 

15 years later he took me to my first drag show in Palm Springs.

We smoked weed together on occasion, always with the long lighter from the kitchen, and always before dinner; we'd stand together blowing the smoke out the back window. Sometimes there'd be a small group of French travelers he had met in town joining us for dinner.

He still called me Julia Harriet Webb, ever since my 3rd grade project on Harriet Tubman. 

Mail was always addressed to Julia Harriet Webb

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I wish everyone could have known him.

I love you Jay Keller, I'm so happy I got time with you, we're gonna miss you so much.

You made everything more fun.