With a successful family vacation in the books, I am now on the Amtrak to Chicago as I write this.
I am excited to be in Chicago, but as everyone’s dad says, “I need a vacation from my vacation!”
After hugging and kissing all of my very best friends in Chi-town, I’m actually looking forward to returning to my life in Denver. Walks in Cheesman Park, snuggling with my cat, and giggling with my roommates. All of those familiarities beckon me back west, which feels good.
Edie has forgiven me for making her cry, and we are now good pals, bonding over the fact that we are third children and also babies.
If there’s anyone new around here, this is how things around here operate. There are three sections:
What I’m crushing (accomplishing, achieving, attaining, fulfilling, something that I am being successful at.)
What is crushing me (see definition 3b, something that is bringing me down.)
What I’m crushing on (admiring, adoring, appreciating, cherishing, favoriting, etc.)
What I’m crushing
This week, I positively crushed having a body.
If you’ve ever been a human with a body (I’m sure many of you can relate), you might know that going to the beach can be a challenge because much of the aforementioned body is on display for strangers.
But this time, at the beach I just…….felt ok? Is that allowed? A woman who’s not showing anything off, not hiding anything, but just…..being. Feels revolutionary.
I got a new bathing suit that makes me feel good. It was an investment, but it claims to be seven sizes in one. Plus, anyone who’s been in my office for a fit check knows that I wear my clothes for a long time, often citing clothes that I thrifted in 2009.
I’m trying not to be at war with my body and instead feel grateful for everything that it’s made up of and everything that everyone before me had to go through so I could even have a body.
My thighs are thick, just like my Grandma Gladys’ were. In fact, the entire lower half of my body reminds me of her. Sometimes when I look at my feet, I think they’re going to age to look exactly like hers (though hopefully, when I am old, I will have sandals that fit me, so my toes aren’t falling off the front like Grandma’s.)
My belly is soft because it’s full of Graeter’s ice cream, and my Grandma Ruth famously had a sweet tooth (though she was also famously quite thin.)
Although we’re not genetically related, my skin is extremely soft like my Granny Shirley’s. When I see her, we touch each other’s inner forearms comparing whose is softer.
My Granda Gladys’ legs helped me run a half marathon this summer, and my Grandma Ruth’s sweet tooth lets me share ice cream and cookies and all sorts of sweets with the people I love.
My skin these days, as soft as Granny Shirley’s, is a patchwork of tan lines that remind me of Rockies games and pool days and camping trips.
I don’t always love my body, but I am done fighting with it. My grandmas gave me this body. It connects me to my lineage. It’s a gift. And I know what Grandma Gladys would say about this gift: “Wear it well.”
What’s crushing me
Near the end of our relationship, my ex-boyfriend Justin experienced some really intense mental health challenges. He spent time in a behavioral health hospital and did ECT treatments both on an inpatient and outpatient basis.
He’s home in Arizona with his family now and seems to be doing very well. We chat occasionally, keeping each other updated on our lives. When he was doing ECT while we were still together, there was some short-term memory loss that occurred as a side effect of the treatment.
This week, when we were chatting, I learned that the memory loss (though perhaps temporary) is much longer term than I thought.
We were together for about a year, and he remembers so little of it.
On our first date, he came over to my house and brought coffee and we were going to smoke some weed and hang out (it’s ok, Mom, it’s legal in Colorado remember?)
We drank some coffee and, to my surprise, he brought out a dab rig to smoke. I was pretty sure I knew my limits, and I decided that I would do one dab and that would be enough for me.
Turns out, it was way too much for me. We were sitting at the table and I ended up dashing into the bathroom to throw up. When I was done, he came into the bathroom, closed the lid on the toilet, flushed, and helped me up off the floor. He gave me a hug and said, “This is going to be a funny story if we end up dating.”
I recounted this story to Justin this week, and not only had he no recollection of it, he also had to google what “dab” meant.
What is a past relationship if not the memories we have of it? And what is a past relationship if only one person has those memories? It’s a lot of responsibility to have to hold the memories for both of us.
Part of me feels like the person I was in a relationship with is gone, and I’ve been mourning him this week.
Note: Justin gave me his permission and trust to write about this. Thank you, Justin.
What I’m crushing on
My dear friend Brendan George is crushing the Edinburgh Fringe Festival with his solo show, A Eulogy for Roman, and I am crushing on him for it.
Before I start raving about a show I haven’t seen, I’ll let the professionals do it first. Brendan and his show have gotten rave reviews: 5 stars in Broadway Baby, 5 stars in All About Solo, 4 stars in The Scotsman, 4 stars in The Wee Review, and a certified Outstanding Show in FringeReview.
As I mentioned, I have not seen this show. but I have known Brendan for years and can say that I’ve consistently had a crush on his talent, work ethic, humor, intelligence, and drive. Also, look at how handsome he is!!!!!
Brendan helped keep me sane and grounded during my months home in Columbus in 2020. We started the impossible-to-market comedy duo, The Paraprosdokians. Might I recommend Watermelon Sugar High, Mal Straightens Her Hair, and Give Yourself Permission.
I am in awe of Brendan. His kindness, his insight, his wisdom. One time in therapy, I said, “I was talking to Brendan—” and my therapist goes, “Anything Brendan says I agree with.” So that’s high praise.
I feel fortunate to know Brendan and have him on my team for so many reasons, including the fact that whenever he brings me up to his mom, she calls me “Sweet Mallory” with a sigh.
Brendan, if you’re reading this, know that I absolutely adore you and am so proud of you and this show.
Thus ends another edition of #MalCrushMonday.
For anyone who doesn’t know, the name of this publication is based on the hashtag #ManCrushMonday where, traditionally, you post a picture of a man you have a crush on.
But this is #MalCrushMonday, baby. No men allowed. Except for Brendan.
With love and gratitude,
Mal
P.S. If you’re so inclined, you’re welcome to “like” this post, leave a comment, or respond to the email, if you received this as an email. Or just text me or call me or FaceTime me! I’d love to hear from you, but you already know that :)
Love this. So much. And you! Xxx cousin S.
Since the beginning, I have subscribed to #MalCrushMonday, and each week has been an insightful and often laugh-out-loud hilarious ride. I love being brought along each week to learn what's being crushed, what's crushing, and of course, what's being crushed on. This week though, was a thought-provoking and sweet little snip-it. Thanks Mal!