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Month: April 2019

April 26, 2019 Ellen Orr

The computer programs the user

April 24, 2019June 17, 2019 Ellen Orr

therapy is weird

Instagram: @ellenorr

Elle King + Sheryl Crow + Heart. My cheeks hurt from smiling for four straight hours. This concert was exactly what my heavy soul needed. (Check out the Sheryl video to catch a glimpse of me in fortyish years.) #texarkananintoronto
Two grandparent visits in one month?! I’m the luckiest granddaughter ever. River and I sure did enjoy spending a few days with @honeypat in my favorite city. 💕 #texarkananintoronto #rivertheexpat
River pulled me out of bed at 6am on the dot, as she does every day I choose to snooze my 5:15 alarm. After our regular hour-long walk and a shower, I sat on my bed with my journal, hair wet, legs shaved, red lipstick on, and I felt the way I always imagined my mom when I was a kid: cool, radiant, together. I felt her laugh. . . I am very homesick these days. I miss my family and my oldest friends and Texas. And: I love my life here in Toronto. Today, my normal morning routine—wholly mine, wholly belonging to my current reality—carried me home, just for a moment. . . #texarkananintoronto
Not super excited about this post, but whatever, I’m transparent, it’s my thing, my account is “private,” and it’s an excuse to post this good-hair selfie. Photo 1 is from Monday. Photo 2 was taken ~36 hours before, in the midst of an anxiety-fueled cryfest on the subway. Fun stuff. (S/o to friends, family, and meds for pulling me through, and to sleep and my magical therapist for helping me recover afterward. 🙏) . . Tonight at work, one of my young students referred to his parents as his adults. “My adults are here to pick me up.” It reminded me of how most of us eventually have to become our own adults—but, of course, we are also always children. I could write more, try to connect these dots . . . but I don’t think I want to share anything else. Y’all make what you want of these photos and words. I’ll leave you with a flawless lyric from my queen @lizzobeeating: “Don’t hide no emotions / wear ‘em on my sleeve / all my feelings gucci”

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