Sunday, February 28, 2021

Syllabus #94

Hey, what's new?  Nothing much over here, just had a casual convo with my eye doc on Monday, and he was all, "Here's a hot trend you can jump on before it's cool -" 

And I cut him off and said, "Nah, dawg, I've already thought about getting frames like Larry David or Danny DeVito but they don't flatter my face shape." 

And he was like, "No, that's not it.  Wait for it - getting cataract surgery!"  

And I was all, "But good sir, I am only 35." 

And so he was like, "Well alright, give it a year or two, but you're def gonna need it, baby."  


Me IRL

Here's a bunch of stuff I had a hard time reading this week.  Not because it was upsetting, or because I lack reading comprehension skills, but because I'm nearly blind!  

---

"At the time, Berger was incredulous at what was happening to him in a country that he had called home since 1959. 'After 75 years, this is ridiculous. I cannot believe it,' he told the Washington Post. 'I cannot understand how this can happen in a country like this. You’re forcing me out of my home.'"  Oh, so, just like... you and the other Nazis forced...Jewish people...out of their homes?  And then killed them?  Is it a little bit like that?

 When I first heard stories about the 4-5 figure electric bills some Texans received, I was completely appalled, but these people willingly signed up for an adjustable/market rate utility billing plan?  But surely, as the guy interviewed here says, no one in their right mind could have anticipated rates spiking the way they did.  That's just a big old shit sandwich with the crust cut off (which everyone knows is the best part, duh) no matter how you slice it.

I think this is the guy who stole my mail in December!  I'm not like, delighted to be robbed, but my view on things is that if you're a grownass person and you go around stealing from people in broad daylight, things are not going great for you.  Maybe you are suffering from a mental illness or maybe you are in dire economic straits and acting out of desperation.  I'm wasn't demonizing this Wario-looking porch pirate, is what I'm saying.  But this guy is clearly on some kinda spree over here and it would be cool if he'd knock it off.

Just like this, but with Amazon packages and Christmas cards instead of preposterously large gold coins

Speaking of Nashville, here comes the eternal question:  To hate watch, or not to hate watch?  The trailer alone gave me hives, and I came close to letting out a spontaneous woo towards the end.  

Go ahead and make a list of stupider things to get mad about than the gender neutralization of Mr. Potato Head.  I'll wait.  Are you done?  Is there like one thing on that list?  Did you even write anything?  


Analog Reading:

Reading Everywhere You Don't Belong by Gabriel Bump.  Too early to form an opinion, but the prose and pacing are snappy and I'm enjoying it so far.

Read Leave the World Behind by Rumaan Alam.  It went down a darker road, in terms of the outlook for all of humankind, than I expected.  I went into it ready for an exploration of the biases and expectations we all have for people of other races/cultures, and how people respond to a crisis when they are forced together with virtual strangers.  But shit was real dark.

Finished Shuggie Bain by Douglas Stuart.  It spanned the main character's entire childhood and young adulthood and yet it felt, rightly, as though nothing happened.  Just a seemingly endless cycle of a boy getting his hopes up that his mother will get sober, and seeing them dashed.  It was tough to read.

Sunday, February 21, 2021

Syllabus #93


It's always something, isn't it?  That's a very milquetoast assertion, but I mean, let's be real.  Of course there's usually something but I recall times when there was actually a whole lot of nothing, and yet for the past year we've been living in this heightened state of red alert, like a cat with its ears turned back, spine arched and ready raise our hackles at the slightest additional provocation.  It's coming up on one year that we were awakened by a tornado in the middle of the night, yet this past week we've been buried under an utterly unusual and crippling amount of snow.  Granted, we're in a much better place than the Texans, to whom you can send aid in a number of ways, but some of us are learning about the physics of cold the hard way:

This is thankfully not my house.  I wouldn't even post this to exploit someone's actual misfortune but it's a vacant house owned by some absentee Neglect Monster who probably was going to tear it down anyway.


After this past week, I'm leaving this here as a note to self to maybe think about eventually getting around to buying a snow shovel.  However, I'll be skipping right the hell over the advice to KEEP CASH IN MY CAR AT ALL TIMES in case of emergencies.  I think leaving cash in my car would BE the emergency.  Are you insane?  My car hasn't been broken into yet, but when it does eventually happen, I don't think my car insurance covers "the wad of cash I casually left in my glove box."


 Wow, nobody better come for Glen 'Hurricane' Schwartz.  Don't let the bowtie fool you, that dude will not let aggression stand.  Also, this quote is me IRL:  "For example, the study finds that men tend to expose themselves to greater risk than women because of traits including high self-belief and a fear of external influences undermining their authority. This leads to a distrust of tornado warnings, failure to take shelter, and dismissal of the alerts entirely". You better believe at the slightest gust of wind I'm strapping on my bike helmet and hiding under the table with my Go Bag.



Speaking of weather, y'all leave Texas alone.  I mean, stop messin' with it.  I live in Tennessee and realized that despite lifetime membership in Club Smug New Jersey, plus living in Idaho and Utah for over two years, we were woefully unprepared for the snow we just got.  After multiple moves and some time living in an apartment, we no longer own a snow shovel.  As a matter of fact, we no longer own any type of digging implement more substantial than a serving spoon.


This is relatable and also makes me feel a little better about Charlie, like, yea he's got a screw loose and he's difficult to handle sometimes, but the dog in this essay is next level demon spawn.  


A to-go drink sounds great in theory, but what makes it so great in a place like New Orleans is the (to me) subversive feeling of bopping around on the street getting your drink on.  Schlepping your well-crafted cocktail home in a sippy cup to drink in the confines of the space where you've spent the last 350+ days staring at the same walls feels about as ceremonious and joyful as a 7-11 Slurpee.  I'd be more excited to see alcohol delivery stick around - sit at home and get a little drunk, run out of booze, and let somebody bring some more to your doorstep?  Count me in.


Speaking of New Orleans, I love what they're doing down there, decorating the houses as Mardi Gras floats since the parades are canceled...but doesn't this just reverse the roles?  The floats now line the sidewalks, and people will parade down the streets to see them?  I guess that means at least viewers aren't clustered together in the same spot during a designated period of time, but it still feels like it's going to draw a lot of people out to congregate in the streets.


Analog Reading:

Read Sisters by Daisy Johnson.  It was dark and uncomfortable and [spoiler alert] gave off kind of a Flowers in the Attic meets The Sixth Sense vibe.  That probably just ruined it for anyone who hasn't read it yet, sorry, but I did warn you.

Reading Shuggie Bain by Douglas Stuart.  It takes an adjustment period to get used to the Scottish dialect, but after that hump, it's just so cringey and sad that you can't look away from the train wreck of this family's story.

Finished Greetings from New Nashville, edited by Steve Haruch.  It's a collection of essays published at various points over the last decade in local and national publications.  It was as entertaining as it was eye-opening.  In some ways it made me feel guilty or complicit in the ways that Nashville has changed for the worse over the years, vis a vis gentrification, but overall it was just cool to learn a little more about this strange and interesting place I've been living for almost 3 years.

Sunday, February 14, 2021

Syllabus #92

It turns out leaving the house every day and working outside the home is exhausting.  Especially when your workplace is unheated, so your mask becomes soaked with snot leaking out of your cold, sad face.

Leave your first born on the doorstep and get the hell out of here


I've never watched a cop procedural before and I'm probably not about to start now, but if I did, this would be the one. 


File under heartbreaking and infuriating, but honestly that folder is stuffed.  Toss this on the overflow pile. 


Gee, really?  You mean it's a net positive to no longer consign people to poverty wages and force people to work multiple full-time jobs to keep their family fed and housed?  Wonders never cease.


I'm torn between Ew David and Get in my mouth.  Everything bagel ice cream sounds like the kind of thing that is so wrong and disgusting that it comes full circle and is actually...delicious?


Chapter 15:  Me and That Time I Was Issued a Literal Citation from the Fashion Police 


Just gonna passive-aggressively leave this here and hope it gets to the person who needs to see it...


Analog Reading:

Finished Real Life by Brandon Taylor.  Alternate working titles:  Boy Aren't You Glad You're Not This Guy or Damn We Live in a Fucked Up Country That Has a Lot of Problems with Racism, Homophobia, and Income Inequality and Isn't It a Real Bitch When Those Things Intersect.  I say that from a place of admiration for the book, because it did what it was probably intended to do to a hetero, white, middle class person - it made me uncomfortable.  I just wanted to hug the main character but he didn't need a hug, he needed a less shitty world to live in.

Read A Children's Bible by Lydia Millet.  It good.  A co-ed Lord of the Flies meets Animal House meets The Road.  Or something?  A Greta Thunberg fever dream?  At any rate, really good, fast read.

Started Sisters by Daisy Johnson and Greetings from New Nashville by Steve Haruch.

Sunday, February 7, 2021

Syllabus #91

Hi there.  Hello.  Welcome.  Let's explore the last week in news and culture.



My first thought was, I guess drugs got him, and then I was like has Slater been questioned, and then I was all, are we sure he's dead what if he's just been stuffed in his locker againRIP Screech.

Well hello, Dolly.  I just don't know, Dolly.  I'm sure you're coming from a good place on this one, because you're Saint Dolly, after all, but if you were gonna update this anthem of female empowerment in the workplace, and you had asked me beforehand, I would have definitely suggested sneaking in some lyrics about a living wage, closing the gender and racial pay gaps, and guaranteed family leave for caregivers.  Just my notes, you can take them or leave them.  I still love you.

Some people out here still assuming Mandy Patinkin is a lady, other people think he and his wife are relationship goals.  They are what I have to hope Ina and Jeffrey are actually like behind the scenes...deeply enamored with one another but not afraid to bitch at each other about leaving up the toilet seat or microwaving fish or something (omg Ina would never let that happen on her watch).

Yikes, and I thought it was bougie when I bought Trader Joes garbanzo beans instead of the Aldi ones.  Y'all, they cost $.30 more per can!  Shit adds up!

Speaking of extravagances...overpaying for shitty real estate is highly relatable.  Makes me feel a little less like a schmuck for buying a 5 year old house with foundation issues.

Well at least it wasn't Highlights magazine, amirite?

If you're a mom with minor children during this pandemic, you have my utmost respect.  Not that that means anything or reduces your load in the slightest, but like, I see you.  Wouldn't wanna be you.  Just kidding, that was ignorant.  For real, though, how do you do it?  I couldn't.  You're truly amazing.  

There's a lot of terrible things to kvetch about but this ain't one of 'em.  I am excite.

Analog Reading:

Did rip off the bandaid and read the rest of The Best of Me in one day, and then felt the sort of emptiness you feel after a vacation or a holiday, when you have nothing left to look forward to in the near future.

Read Monogamy by Susan Miller.  Took a while to really get into it, but I enjoyed it.  It felt to me like an Updike novel told from the woman's perspective.

Started Real Life by Brandon Taylor.  

Monday, February 1, 2021

January Cram Sesh

 It should come as no surprise that I don't like to set New Year's Resolutions.  It's not that I take issue with the spirit of it, but rather the nomenclature.  Much like I can't abide the term bucket list, whether applied seasonally or to one's life as a whole.  A docket of shit to do sounds truer, and less desperate.  It says, "Yea, I plan to get around to this stuff, but if I don't, well, maybe something more pressing came up."  It doesn't say, "I am slipping into the void unfulfilled, and will be required to forever walk the spirit realm bemoaning my failure to go apple picking and post about it on Instagram, woe is my incomplete bucket list."

Same with resolutions.  They sound so binding and formal, rigid even.  How about intentions, or goals?  If you are truly resolved to do something, if it's so critically important to you, why are you standing around with your thumb up your ass waiting for the calendar to turn over before you begin?  

All the same, I like to start off the year with a sense of accomplishment.  It feels invigorating to really hit the ground running with a smug sense of superiority, but not for the reasons you might think.  January isn't the entry point to a newer, shinier me.  It's just manically front-loading a year's worth of effort into one short burst so I can go back to my regularly scheduled garbage-human programming for the next 11 months.  

So what did I cram into January this year, asks exactly no one?

Well.  In addition to my annual Dry January, I did Yoga With Adriene's 30-Day yoga challenge, Suleika Jaouad's 10-Day New Year's journaling challenge, a 1-week workout challenge from Fitnessista, AND I read 11 books.  

But wait, there's more!  I already did our taxes!  

Does any of this matter?  

NO!

Well, the tax part does, because if Uncle Joe and Auntie Kamala want to send us some stimmies, it's important to make sure they know where to find me and my new checking account thanks to, hi, that time our outgoing mail got stolen.  But the rest of it?  You're like, hooray for you, you self-indulgent monster.  And you're not wrong.  But in the moment, it felt like it was productive, so now I can rest on my laurels for the remainder of 2021.  If you need me, I'll be soaking in the bathtub with a tumbler of bourbon and a bag of Funyuns.  [None of that is accurate.  The last thing I wanna do is swim in a pot of me soup, and I plan to go to my grave not knowing what a Funyun tastes like.]

Just for posterity, here's that big fat reading list from the first month of the year of our Lorde two thousand and twenty one.


In order of completion:

  1. Fleishman Is In Trouble by Taffy Brodesser Akner  (fiction)
  2. Kim Ji-Young, Born 1982 by Cho Nam-ju  (fiction)
  3. The Undocumented Americans by Karla Cornejo Villavicencio  (non-fiction)
  4. Rich and Pretty by Rumaan Alam  (fiction)
  5. Cleanness by Garth Greenwell  (fiction)
  6. Death In Her Hands by Ottessa Moshfegh  (fiction)
  7. Deacon King Kong by James McBride  (fiction)
  8. Little Eyes by Samantha Schweblin  (fiction)
  9. The Sea Wife by Amity Gaige  (fiction)
  10. The Midnight Library by Matthew Haig  (fiction)
  11. The Best of Me by David Sedaris (essay collection)