Rebecca Cook

I have Thrush. I wish this meant that when I open my mouth I warble and trill because my insides are full of birds, but it does not. I wish this meant that when I open my mouth thrushes wing their way upwards toward the heavens, but it does not. It means bad luck. It means shame on you amoxicillin and stress, stress, stress. It means that I only THOUGHT I knew what cottonmouth was. I feel like one of those…

It occurred to me that in order to ever make peace with eating and food I will need to change my eating environment. It's what America needs. It's what I need. (see Marion Nestle) Then it occurred to me to really, really consider what that would look like. What do I really want to eat? When do I want to eat? How? With whom? Do I want to cook? Do I want to fool with the always-somewhat-yuckifying-and vaguely horrifying touching and…

my migraines may be back. i mean really back. i just came off a 12 day bender. and the headache is still here, lurking. f*****g lurker. but, i am not going to let this down dog be kicked, this downward facing dog i am going to get moving. i have gotten moving. get fit with rick! on youtube. i love this guy's energy filming in front of the water in Dubai. lovely thing. i just ordered my FITBIT after LOADS of…

The weekend was awful. Well, Sunday was awful. I had, I suppose, a mini bipolar meltdown. A spin-down. My centrifuge dropped me down its middle into my foggy, overspent brain and just spat me out. This may have been drug-induced, but not completely. Over cards Saturday night, my husband inadvertently insulted me about something—my rudeness, utter lack of manners. And a close friend echoed and encouraged/agreed with him in this. I know they figured that this would never have bothered me…

I don't know exactly what happens when I lose contact with time, the flow of time. I feel out of focus, disconnected. What have I done? I don't know. No, that's not true. What I have done is taken a deep dive into reading/listening to books. I guess it's been, what, 3 weeks ago? I started checking books out of the library again. I reread Then She Was Gone (best narrator ever!) and The Girl on the Train. I also bought…

I read something today, a woman speaking of writing about her days, and if she didn't write about them, she'd begin to feel as though they weren't really happening. I think perhaps I am the opposite. I have been so busy, so satisfyingly busy, emersed. but really, is that true? It is more true to say that we have had an insane amount of shit going down, but that I am happy. content. I have a sense of wellbeing. even when…

friday i got into my swimsuit and got into the water. it was of course, glorious. i intend to get into the water again. this is my local public pool. it is free, indoors, and super clean, but the locker room is a little creepy. when you get out of the shower (there are only 2), anybody who just walks in can see you in all your glory. so i either need a small robe (bulky!), or will have to use…

one day while fishing for the cauliflower i found the baby i had forgotten it, tucked safe in the freezer my little mummy, little mommy's boy one blue eye frozen open... (contact me to hear the rest of poem--rebeccacookwriter@gmail.com)

the evil eye of the daisy 2 pregnancy test and the rise in my center the pressing outward of tiny, unseen hands this child will lift me we will float on the pool of clear water in god's chest we will hold our noses and dive under I will take the child and press its face down and down to the floor of my body and hold it there and stop what happened before before it begins before that desire of…