Not homesick at all.

No I won’t bore you with how much I adore being back in NYC in the fall, or how last week the weather was the perfect mix of rain and warmth specifically designed to tear a hole in me, or how my final evening there was spent wandering from karaoke bar to karaoke bar singing my own greatest hits until 4am, or how amazed/excited I am that the play I’m writing seems to *actually* be working. Instead (and apologies to folks who get this via email without images) here are some pictures from my week in the city followed by a gif of me falling off a mechanical bull because YOU DESERVE IT and YES I AM TOTALLY FINE and YOU ARE VERY WELCOME…

Enter at your own peril.
She is a warrior.
A page from my play that mentions genitalia.
Bowl of beans + man-bun = emoji hearts.
A consternated mosaic.
I own many Rothy’s.
She likes The Lion King.
A $43 cup of wine I purchased at Slave Play on Broadway without asking the price first. Lesson learned. ☹️
He matters.
You matter.
…your kindness during this challenging time is greatly appreciated…

For the future.

A friend sent this to me ’cause I needed it. Maybe you do too? (Click to expand.)

Mr. Cogito Meditates on Suffering
by Zbigniew Herbert

All attempts to remove
the so-called cup of bitterness–
by reflection
frenzied actions on behalf of homeless cats
deep breathing
religion–
failed

one must consent
gently bend the head
not wring the hands
make use of the suffering gently moderately
like an artificial limb
without false shame
but also without unnecessary pride

do not brandish the stump
over the heads of others
don’t knock with the white cane
against the windows of the well-fed

drink the essence of bitter herbs
but not to the dregs
leave carefully
a few sips for the future

accept
but simultaneously
isolate within yourself
and if it is possible
create from the matter of suffering
a thing or a person

play
with it
of course
play

entertain it
very cautiously
like a sick child
forcing at last
with silly tricks
a faint
smile

Boss lady.

Dumb rhetorical(ish) question. In our current cultural climate, is it cool to strive for forthright femininity AND a Nietzschean-level of achievement?

Hey! Why not.

But is it realistic? Can we dodge the qualifiers, judgements, contingencies? (You know the answer to that.)

“Lady Boss.” That term makes me wanna bash my head with a rusty shovel. Not only does it demote women to a subcategory of bosshood which is lesser than its root, but it often unwittingly ascribes traditional feminine characteristics to the job of bosshood.

I guess in a practical sense this isn’t a tragedy. Many of those qualities are helpful for people in management positions. And you know, I have maternal instincts and empathy and all that. I will happily bake you cupcakes. I also like mascara and manicures and shoes that click when I walk. But if I decide to not act like your mommy-wife, I’m not a shitty boss. I’m a regular one.

Slate’s The Waves podcast unpacked “Lady Boss” as a concept a few weeks ago. I dropped a little audio excerpt of it here (95 seconds) because I’m like, goddamn it.

TRANSCRIPT OF MY FAVORITE EXCHANGE...

NOREEN MALONE:
…um… the “Boss Lady” is totally in command of her emotions, and she’s better than you at everything and she’s not apologizing for it, she’s not feeling bad about being… you know sort of leaving anyone in her wake, she’s, she’s not… um… she doesn’t need to read like management guides… ah… on like, how to, you know how to get a raise at work, she was—

JUNE THOMAS:
Right, she might write one—

HANNA ROSIN:
She writes them, yeah exactly—

NOREEN MALONE:
Exactly. Is that, do you think that’s a fair assessment of the “Boss Lady?”

(Beat.)

HANNA ROSIN:
Ughk. I hate women. I don’t wanna be a woman anymore.