2016: On the Orgasmic Lure of ‘The Reset’

Day 29 (or so) from Jack London-Land and it’s safe to say things are getting a tad Grey Gardens up here. Hoo boy…

I’ll be frank … 2015 really blew. (yes, hello 2016… I love you already. Mwaahhh!!)

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I know everyone’s hatin’ on Gwynie these days, but the image was just so apt.

In giving this past year the sidelong glance it deserves… almost every bad thing that could happen… did happen… just like that scene in The Revenant. After reaching the high point of my professional life… I slid down the corporate ladder faster than a stripper down a greased pole. I’ll spare you the litany of bad breaks and missteps, but life was quickly turning into an Aimee Mann song … you know that one from Magnolia… I LOVE Aimee… she is my serious girl crush, but I do not want her as my life’s theme music anymore… Sorry Aimee. (You’re still hot)

3 days before Christmas I had a mini seizure… not a full rolling-on-the-ground grand mal… more like a petit. I was writing when it happened… finishing a true crime freelance gig that was just sooooooooo mind-like-a-dial-tone. Here’s exact moment when it happened… see how my typing goes all crazy?

seized.pngit was like swallowing a bolt of lightning and then… staring out across a great black chasm of solid darkness… at what I have always imagined a parsec to be… (a parsec is equal to about 3.26 light-years or 19 trillion miles). Casting around for a mooring in the BIG deep dark, it seemed I was the big deep dark. Pure absence.

I don’t know how I managed it, but I texted a panicked “help”… because I am out in the wilderness here. Quick-thinking friends sent some lovely locals to check on me… They reminded me of hipster versions of Mr and Mrs. Santa Claus… jolly and sweet… Good Samaritans unafraid of a spaz in distress. “We’ve seen the dog have seizures!” they told me.

And then, I slept and slept… like the deadest of the dead… with flashes of hip Mrs. Claus checking on me.

When I finally awoke, this time was different… But how to describe it without sounding like a damn sissy… My friend Camille says that after I have a seizure… I always look like I’ve just had sex. That’s kind of how this was… it was a true form of being awake… not in any airy-fairy-Zen-way (sorry Buddhists)… but a concrete… flint-cracking awake with this singular spark of joy, like that amazing feeling you have right after a big, ginormous sneeze, or on that first, luxurious morning inhale of coffee…  I have not had this feeling in so long… since the big, bad accident–last year. I’ve heard it called “the beginners mind.” And it was as if suddenly… I might actually get my life back… like George Bailey in a It’s a Wonderful Life realizing he’s not a goner… he may be a total loon, but he’s really, super-duper alive.

And it came with a kind of creative euphoria… a constant, vivd flow of ideas, words, images, undertones and moods all rushing at me like a gorgeous river of stars in my mind’s eye. It was like a completely amazing software upgrade. Something I never want to let go of… like my children or my city.

While we’ve all been bemoaning the oh-so-tiresome Resolution these past weeks… I have been reminded of something a very dear friend once taught me (and keeps teaching me again and again). She is a doctor, but not just any doctor… she is one who specializes in the absolute, from-the-ground-up-things-are-decimated-rebuild of a person… she is meticulous, an artist, at times she is pure, crazy-making OCD, but she has schooled me in the ways and means of the reset… the profound, methodical comfort of putting things back, the satisfaction of knowing exactly where things go, of knowing precisely what instruments and materials are needed next, and having them perfectly at hand… that the very act and aftermath of the reset can be just the thing… just the rush… one needs… especially for 2016. For this lesson and my little seizure, I’m grateful.

I wish this feeling for all of us this year. Especially Gotham.

XOXO – gg

 

2015: Year of the Bread Cleanse

Aren’t these 2 things…Sex and Bread… ideas we can all relate to?

Happy 2015 people…  I can’t believe it’s already been a year since I failed to become a better person.

I’ve been mulling over different new year’s resolutions… Most are such a terrible yawn… Things like flossing, wearing sunscreen, not leaving wet towels on the bed and doing things like squats and lunges to stave off gravity… Most of these I will forget or reject by Tuesday. You will too.

No… I’d like to make this year’s resolutions more about New York… and less about squats.

Resolution #1 – Go on a “Bread Cleanse” 

Screw all these newage-sewage resolutions to go on a “juice cleanse”… Not only is juicing pretentious, it’s yucky. Fess up New Yorkers, do you really want to down a quart of kale-beet-garlic-turnip sludge? You might feel righteous in the moment as you are choking it down, but trust me, pooping purple is not going to make you feel any healthier.

Instead, I’m going on a “bread cleanse”.  I’m going to eat nothing but croissants, muffins and brioche for a whole week, and I guarantee you now that I will feel happier and healthier at the end of it. Before and after pix to come…

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Resolution #2 – Become the “Building Fairy”

NYC is about “the building”. There’s none of this ridiculous apartment vs. single family home class warfare that you’ll find in other cities. Everyone lives in a building.

Our building is like many old school, prewar upper westside edifices. Great bones, beautiful details, but everything’s just a little bit broken… the front door sticks, the toilet seat is missing a bolt, so it slides around with you sit down, the heat works too much in the bathroom and not enough in the back bedroom. The lobby could use a re-fresh–or at least some Mr. Clean. We also have something that’s uber rare in NYC and a little bit broken…a back yard…it’s been completely abandoned. Dead plants, junk and a dirty old dinner table. It’s a total travesty.

And I’m taking it back!

In the dead of night… when everyone is sleeping… I am going to become the Magic Building Fairy. I’m going to do some reverse vandalism and leave some figurative treats under figurative pillows… I’m spraying that stupid sticky lock w/ WD40, planting a shitload of flowers, fixing the patio furniture and hanging some solar string lights because this coming year, I’m vowing to have a bunch of these:

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Because dinner parties always lead to good things, like bread and sex.

Resolution #3 – Wear pants less often

Lastly…In NYC, heat is free and our apartment hovers at a balmy 82 degrees throughout the winter. I am going to channel my inner and outer Lena Dunham and dispense with the whole pants paradigm from now on. I’ll save on laundry, be more environmental… and if Lena can do it… and oog out half of America… so can I.

The point is, pants are overrated.

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Besides, it’s always good to accept one’s own bodily realities in the face of bread.

And if you get to ride through the streets of NYC on this guy… well then a very happy 2015 to you my friend…

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xx-gg