Hey, guess what? I’m trying something new! For me, anyway. It’s called, Being More Transparent On My Blog!
I’ve done a bit of that recently, mentioning my frustration with food and heartache over the current state of the world. But to be honest, my mental health hasn’t been great. For nine years, while leading a Coven, I focused on everyone else’s issues but mine which means that the moment I stepped away from leadership, my own issues were tapping impatient feet. There’s probably some trauma around the move, even though it’s what I wanted and I’m happy we did it. I may even still be mourning Lilith–-who knows??? I’m also still coming out of burnout. All work and no play might have made Jack Nicholson a dull boy, but it made Courtney Weber a depressed lady. The good news is that my new insurance covers EMDR which means I’m finally cleaning out the closets of my head (which looked like Hoarders of the Mind).
But instead of ranting about those messy mental closets, I’ve decided to blog about the things that are making me happy at this very moment. The following list is in no particular order.
Husband and I went to a trivia game last night at the local bar and our team won!
We called ourselves The Scary Moochies. We won a $20 gift certificate and we made a friend. These things are a big deal when you live in a small town. This is something I learned.
I’m not getting Portsplained as much as I thought.
If you’ve not heard me complain about Portsplaining, here’s the definition: Portsplaining is when people who moved to Portland, OR in the last ten years assume people who grew up in Portland are not from Portland (because the Native Portlander doesn’t seem Portland enough for the Portsplainer’s taste) and start telling Native Portlanders all about Portland. And when the Native Portlander is like, ‘Yes, I know…” the Portsplainer is like, “Well, Portland Portland PORTLAND.” And then the Native Portlander jumps out a window. Or breaks something over the Portsplainer’s head and rightfully (sort of) goes to jail. I haven’t had to jump or break things, so that’s good. But it might also be because when my husband announces we moved here from New York, I immediately spit out, “BUT I GREW UP HERE.” (****Also, I still don’t know if I can say I’m a Native Portlander because I spent the first six years of my life in the south. Many say that if you do ten years in NYC, you quality as a New Yorker. But many Portlanders argue that if your great-grandparents didn’t come here in a covered wagon, you will always be from California–even if you moved here from Tennessee. THAT is actually an actual Portland controversy, Portsplainers. Look it up.****)
I have three chapters of a new metaphysical book completed which means…time to put a new proposal together!
The topic is top secret. No, not Top Secrets of Anything. I mean, no one knows but my husband what I’m writing, but if you ask him he probably won’t remember. He says he can’t keep track of my projects and that’s fair. I can barely keep track of them, myself.
Our new cat Bear is getting along quite well with Cranky Matilda
She doesn’t hate him. I mean, she doesn’t like him and never will. She doesn’t like anyone but me and Brian and some days, only Brian. But she does let him sit on the footstool with her. This is a huge deal.
We’re painting one of our rooms in our new house to look like The Green Dragon Inn.
From Lord of the Rings. I’m sure I need to offer no further explanations about how awesome this is.
I just discovered this outstanding podcast AND the most recent episode talks about why people are turning to psychics, Tarot readers, and mediums rather than traditional talk therapy.