afallenvenusian

Latest Posts by afallenvenusian

May 12, 2025

The weekend was good to me.

My mother and I celebrated Mother's Day at our favorite Spanish restaurant, over garlicky grilled octopus, glasses of crisp Cava, and a flurry of Formula 1 yapping. She's been brave enough to watch the 2021 season (I refuse) and couldn't stop marveling over Max Verstappen and Lewis Hamilton nearly killing each other several times over on track.

We've had our ups and downs. As she nears retirement age, I can accept that she's a great mother now for whatever she lacked in my childhood. It doesn't erase the bad, or make up for it really. But I have to give her the chance to be good to me now, so should I have to care for her at some point in the future, I can do so out of love. Not bitter obligation.

Saturday was spent out and about in my neighborhood. In the morning, I took my cheap Vivatar digicam to the Farmer's Market while I sipped coffee and people watched.

It reminded me of sitting on the porch as a kid. Hearing loud music from cars thumping up and down the block, watching neighbors tend to their yards.

Stopped home for lunch then headed back out for a quick glass at my Neighborhood Wine Bar. As Mike (the grumpy owner who's become an adopted uncle of sorts) poured the last of a Sancerre he’d sampled with other customers that afternoon, he remembered the name of a woman who accompanied him last time he went to Croatia. “It was Kathleen,” he said. Apparently, one of his other frequent travel companions had to refresh his memory.

(Michael and his travel companions are a long story. For now, just know this man is a 71 year-old Gemini who, up until recently, had a solid roster of eight to nine women, all at least 15 years younger than him. And I know this to be true because I saw them all at his 70th birthday party, hanging out like sister wives.)

Seeing that Mike was kind of over it for the day, I jaunted over to a new Italian spot I've been meaning to try out. And had — hands down — the best mussels I've ever had in my life. The broth was... good lord. I had to order some Focaccia on the side to make sure I didn't waste a drop. The bartender was so amused by my theatrics (listen, I love good food and am not shy about it), she comped one of my two glasses of wine.

I will definitely be back.

Next month. For the rest of May, we have food at home.

May 11, 2025

The Self is just a story your mind tells you. At any moment you can decide to tell a new one

"I can't cry anymore, that you're not around..."

May 10, 2025

Being quite rational and into metaphysics means someone always takes it too far. I can do Human Design right up until they start talking about "The New Paradigm" and I have to check out. My favorite YouTube tarot reader is so on point (she called what I'm experiencing right now with Mars in Leo – the drive to be out and seen again) and is an anarchist.

(It's always funny how these "radicals" are people of privilege who won't feel the real consequences of their predictions. Meanwhile, my black ass – a daughter of addicts who fought tooth and nail for the structure and stability they all deride – has a real life and a 70 year old mother about to retire who may or may not have access to social security or health care but please. Continue to regale us about how "failing institutions are actually good for us").

Where was I going with this? Oh, yeah. The problem is they nail the personal shit so I can't quit them. Just take what works, leave the rest, and trust myself to handle whatever fuckery the world throws my way.

But the being lit up again? That shit is real. I can't stay inside or off the phone. I'm thinking at the speed of the light, craving movement and stimulation. What I thought was living was only resting and preparation for my next era. The Back Outside, Doing, and Making Era. The Go Time, Ready or Not Era.

It's wild, heady shit.

Know Your "No."

Being an Old on Tumblr, I'm often down the rabbit hole of youthful angst and despair, especially from young women who don't know who/how to be in the world and are looking for answers in moodboards, trends, and memes. And listen — that doesn't end. It's why we have mid-life crises.

It's better to figure out your "no."

You gotta know your line. Your absolutely the fuck not.

Here's why...

Sometimes that "no" is hiding under a "yes." It's the guy who A1 d*ck who talks to you like shit. The high-paying job/competitive college program that stresses you the fuck out. The "Baddie" aesthetic that includes shoes you can't fucking walk in. You get what you want but because you didn't define what you didn't want, you're telling yourself this is fine.

When you start with Absolutely the fuck not, you free yourself up for exploration.

You put less pressure on yourself to have all the answers because as long as you don't see the Absolutely the fuck not, you can be guided by curiosity.

"Huh. What's over there? Let's try that on and see what happens."

No matter what your fave influencer says, you learn about life by living. You make a choice, it goes well, you learn what you like. You make a choice, it doesn't go well, you learn what you don't like. Rinse and repeat. This, and only this, is how you "figure it out." By doing.

When you pinpoint your Absolutely the fuck not, you trust that anything — no matter how good it looks on the outside — that requires you to do what you absolutely do not want to do is not for you.

Everything else? Fair game.

May 9, 2025

I'm easily inspired. I'm learning to accept it.

I spent most of 1992 wanting to be Catwoman after seeing Michelle Pfeiffer in Batman Returns (look it up kids). My notebooks from the 2000s echoed the metaphors and similes I absorbed via Big, Jay, Nas, and the like. I spent three days with my sister-in-law last year and heard her Southeastern Ohio/West Virginia twang in my voice the week after.

I don't even do it on purpose. I have a clear sense of self and yet, at the big age of 41, I'm as impressionable as I was in 1992. 'Tis what it is.

Why did I feel the need to say that?

Oh. Because thanks to Human Design, I see that's just how I am. I can fight it or I can learn to ride the waves that flow out of me without shame.

The latter sounds more fun.

That's a lot of preamble, but I needed to clear my throat for what I really want to do today: dispense some age-old wisdom like the elder millennial auntie I am.

(incoming....)

Discernment

Burgers and red wine

Spring mornings in my bedroom

Pay day

Heating pads

Grateful for...

Breathable cotton undies

Men's ribbed tanks

Money to spend

Friends to bounce ideas off

Having ideas again

Neptune in Aries

Silent nights

Rewatchables episodes

Rainbows in the sky outside my window

May 8, 2025

Thanks to the Motrin cocktail required to sleep through my cramps last night, yesterday feels like a hazy blur.

I sent the link for my new (private) Substack to four friends. Each was excited to see me writing again, but will they read it? Time will tell. Either way, putting work into the world felt good.

Caught a lecture about the origins of my local art museum last night. As I'm prone to do, I had a friendly chat with a stranger at the bar while I waited for the lecture to begin. Coincidentally, she works in an industry adjacent to my own. We had a few common acquaintances. We also shared deep pride in our city as a cultural hub (Top 10 art museum, Top 8 orchestra, second (or third) largest theater district in the nation — put some respect on our name) and perfect food city. #ClevelandRocks.

The lecture was interesting and informative. A perfectly fine way to spend an evening. By the time I got home, PMS fatigue had your girl down bad. I ended the night with repeat watchings of Lewis Hamilton and Charles Leclerc doing a logistics-themed escape challenge and if I thought they couldn't get hotter, I was wrong. Fine ass race car drivers doing math and problem-solving...

Good lord.

My boss is back from out of town today, ending my emotional reprieve (last week was a week — I needed space). I'm soaking up the silence until he arrives.

Until next time.

Museum lectures

Conversations with strangers over flutes of prosecco

Creative flow

Friends who read my writing

Formula 1 drama

HD Strategy and Authority

Cathartic work lunches

Grateful for...

Breathable cotton undies

Men's ribbed tanks

Money to spend

Friends to bounce ideas off

Having ideas again

Neptune in Aries

Silent nights

Rewatchables episodes

Rainbows in the sky outside my window

Grateful for...

Breathable cotton undies

Men's ribbed tanks

Money to spend

Friends to bounce ideas off

Having ideas again

Neptune in Aries

Silent nights

Rewatchables episodes

Rainbows in the sky outside my window

May 6, 2025

The last two days? Much better.

Figured out how to start a private Substack that requires subscription approvals (score one for utilizing the benefits of that platform without its non-sense). Made sure I got in my requisite movement yesterday (a 30 minute walk). Politely told the friend who flaked on hanging out over the weekend not to ask me anywhere else unless she plans to actually show up.

Re: the Substack. I popped open a blank page and the words showed up. Liked I turned on a fucking faucet. It was incredible. Shout out to Neptune in Aries opposite my Mercury. I told a friend it feels like my mind is drowning in fire.

And so's my body. Spent an extra few minutes in bed this morning for some self-care, because shit. I felt good. Took longer than usual to put on my clothes because I couldn't stop looking at myself. I graduated college 19 years ago today. This is the finest I've ever felt.

Apparently, I just needed some movement.

If Lewis Hamilton can get Lauryn Hill out of the house, to an event, ON TIME...

I have to believe he can fix Ferrari.

Oscar Piastri is looking like that dude.

May 4, 2025

Daily writing is back. One: I can feel the gray clouds of void (shouts to The Thunderbolts*) rolling over the horizon which means your girl needs habits. Daily assignments that get me moving when my mind tells my body to retreat. Two: this also helps with cultivating gratitude because when I don't know what to write, "What are you grateful for?" is a solid prompt. Three: actively working with Human Design means doubling-down on what I love to align with my Strategy. Even when I don't know what to say, my body lights up over a keyboard with an empty screen. Authority doesn't get more sacral than that.

So, here I am. May the Fourth be with me or whatever.

I knew something was off yesterday when a friend canceling our plans to hang out at the art museum (mere hours before we were scheduled to meet up) sent me on a spiral. I was already planning my outfit. I was looking forward to catching up, seeing where she is in life, and if I'm honest, performing my personality a bit. I have Leo Rising with a Sun in the 3H – conversation is my stage du jour. Being robbed of the spotlight for an afternoon not only had me ready to rage but activated a "Hey. What if your perfect Solo lifestyle isn't so perfect after all? You wouldn't cling to plans to get attention if you didn't live alone" thought whirlpool. I won't tell you who that voice in my head sounds like because he is a politician, but let's just say he may or may not have had a dalliance with a couch.

Thankfully, The Thunderbolts* was showing at my neighborhood movie theater at the same time I would have gone to the museum. So I had something to get up and get dressed for. The movie not only hit (good for Marvel), but hit a little too hard. Then, my mother texting "Well, that sucked," in reaction to Miami Grand Prix Qualifying put a literal pit in my stomach on the drive home. And I had to concede that the Sunken Place was, indeed, calling because no way should a man I've never met driving too slow around a race track trigger that kind of physical reaction.

The outlook isn't great. Not alarming. But definitely giving "Meh. What's the point?"

I know from experience. There is no point. You put one foot in front of the other until a point finds you.

Step one: daily writing.