It's that time

It is winter and I am alone again. I thought I would pick up this Substack in a mad grasp for sanity earlier in the season, but I've been pretty stable so far. There were so many family gatherings in December and a wedding at the beginning of January, which kept me tethered to people and driven by events. I also preemptively painted my living room pink in November in an attempt to change the environment so it wouldn’t feel like the same prison where I’d been in solitary confinement during the pandemic. It worked! The room glows warm now! It’s like biting into a stick of Big Red gum: a hot cinnamon red on the wall farthest from the window, then coral on the main walls, ending as pink champagne on the sloping attic portion. Every time I see it I feel pleased with myself, which does wonders for the psyche.

Last Aquarius season I jumped into the pool of humanity by commenting a lot on social media posts. Usually I just watch and scroll, so I got a real charge when 6K responses came back on a comment¹. This Aquarius season I joined the masses of TikTok refugees on RedNote, officially Xiaohongshu, where we’ve been having proper cultural exchange with Chinese netizens. When Chinese users noticed the influx of foreigners, they demanded a tax— the cat tax. Thousands of Americans posted photos of their cats, and we were allowed to stay. Chinese people have been asking if it’s true that Americans have to work two jobs to stay alive. Americans have been learning that Chinese employers contribute to a housing provident fund, a portion of an employee’s salary that can be used to buy a home. We are watching Chinese cooking tutorials and posting photos of our finished results in the comments. We are exchanging addresses and becoming pen pals. Americans feel like the stories we heard about China are unfounded, while the Chinese are surprised to hear that the horror stories they heard about our healthcare and grocery prices are all too true.

Screenshots from RedNote

Being on Xiaohongshu has satisfied a travel itch for me. I’m seeing things I never saw before from firsthand accounts. It’s also satisfying a curiosity need, since neither of my jobs keep me busy or challenged. My Boring Era gave me the year of peace and stillness that I needed to recover from four years of pandemic stress compounded by back-to-back wrong relationships. I convalesced in the attic apartment, I basked in a small town summer. Now tarot numerology says I’m in a Wheel year. Fate is changing. Make shots and take shots. Pray for your heart’s desire and then get up and run toward it. I don’t know exactly where that will lead me, but I feel the surge of energy pulsing up and I want to ride that wave when it breaks.

1. The comment was “The Yellow Wallpaper is my Roman Empire.”