Syllabus #237

 I can see walk clearly now, the rain snow is gone...

It's been a dreary, rainy, gross week since Tuesday, but at least I don't have to shuffle across outdoor surfaces like octogenarian penguin.  Naturally, all the children at work were like dogs at the end of  an extended car ride.  So much pent up energy after a week stuck inside at home, and then another week stuck inside for indoor recess.  

Clean boi

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The Stanley cup has been living rent free in my brain for a couple weeks, apparently.  I should charge it rent, because it's apparently huge.  This "I lived it" takedown of the cult-favorite Stanley cup is hilarious.  Not gonna lie, when references to this cup first started crossing the threshold of my internet, I could not understand why TikTok influencers were obsessed with hockey all of a sudden?  This honestly makes the vessel sound like a real albatross.

The other day, one of the kids I tutor after school showed up wearing a Mean Girls sweatshirt that said "On Wednesdays We Wear Pink" (it was, to her credit, actually Wednesday) and holding one of the above-mentioned 40 oz Stanley tumblers.  I wasn't sure if she was there to bully me* or learn from me.

*Fortunately, it was the latter.  I really didn't want to have to bust out the "I am lovable and capable" [IALAC] or "Cancel Cancel" anti-bullying jargon they taught us in middle school, that we promptly turned around and used to...bully the teachers?  

Analog Reading:

Finished Billy Summers by Stephen King.  He's at his best when he's not bringing in the supernatural, I think.  Human psychology and the capacity for evil provides for more than enough horror.

Now reading Chain Gang All-Stars by Nana Kwame Adjei-Brenyah.  It's been a slow week for reading, what with actually having to leave the house for work like a functional adult human.  This book is shaping up to be incredible if I can just dedicate a decent stretch of time to immersing myself in the story.  I would describe it as a dystopian sci-fi about the prison industrial complex, because that's the mood it's giving.  However, save for some slightly futuristic technology, it's not even far-fetched and honestly/sadly just seems like the next logical step in a society where capitalism trumps human dignity every step of the way.

Syllabus #236

Greetings from the Arctic Circle.  Wish you were here.

Late last week, teachers were like, "Do your snow dance, kids!" and the children might have served it up a little too hard, because we were out of school the entire week, and could possibly be tomorrow, still (Monday).  And this snow-week didn't even draw out in a way that made me think, bless their sweet Southern hearts.  We're talking, any street that wasn't treated and plowed was just waiting for Tonya Harding and Nancy Kerrigan to lace up their skates and party like it's 1994.  I just walked Charlie down the street and around the corner for a previously scheduled grooming appointment and almost fell and broke my cervix* several times.

When I wasn't using a broom to remove snow, or checking on dripping faucets, I lived under this cat and this blanket all week

*A couple winters ago, we had an accumulation of ice and snow and the school district hadn't made the call to cancel school yet.  Parents, students, and even teachers were going absolutely wild on the platform formerly known as Twitter, commenting the rudest things on the district's posts about other topics, lobbying for a snow day.  One high school student said something so unintentionally hilarious that I still think of it often:  "Come on big dawg, it's so icy out there my gramma went outside and she slipped and broke her cervix!"  I'm sure he meant coccyx, but the error is so much better.

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Unstoppable food cravings be gone!  I dunno, man, the only snack that has ever sent me on a truly unstoppable feeding frenzy was a family size bag of Utz Crab Chips, and that was after consuming enough chardonnay to make a pilates studio full of white ladies cry.  And nobody advertised them to me!  Except my mom.  And by advertise I mean she just casually served them with tuna sandwiches like a Pfizer rep just palming you a sample baggie of oxies along with his business card.  That was my first exposure.  The next time, with the chardonnay, I was just chasing the dragon of that delicious, salty, Old Bay experience.

Back in my day, nobody went around obsessing over hydration.  You lined up for your after-recess slurp at the water fountain and had your glass of milk with dinner, and you were good to go.  But now?  I drank the kool-aid electrolyte water, and I have a hydration routine!  I mostly rely on, you know, a regular degular drinking glass or a small, beat-up old Nalgene from REI.  But I'll be so dysregulated if I don't get my 64 ounces a day, y'all.

They had me at 'male cats with barbed penises.'  I guess Hadley and Lola aren't missing out on anything by being spayed.  

Analog Reading:

I've been BUSY.

Finished Finder's Keepers by Stephen King.  I can't wait to read the last book in the Mr. Mercedes trilogy, and all the rest of the Holly stories.  

Read White Cat Black Dog by Kelly Link.  A story collection of modern fairy tales.  Bizarre and inventive.  There was one story that didn't really draw me in, but the rest were top-notch.

Read Terrace Story by Hilary Leichter.  We've all had that weird dream where you find a hidden room in your house that has always been there but you never knew it existed.  This book is that and so much more.

Read Pet by Catherine Chidgey.  Daaaaark.  Coincidentally, the second novel I've read this year that is set in New Zealand and comes to a very violent and brutal ending (also Birnam Wood) but this ending felt like it was earned, whereas the other came out of nowhere.

Reading Billy Summers by Stephen King.  It's great.  I'll finish it today.  Feels appropriate to bookend my week of The Shining cosplay with books by our old pal, Steve.  Also, in this book, he has not (yet) used the n-word even once!  Good on you, Stevie boy.  The protagonist did don brown-face, but at least he and his co-conspirator were self-aware about it being problematic?

Syllabus #235

 Winter has come.  The mercury dipped below freezing overnight, and won't pass the 32 degree mark again until probably Thursday.  We're talking single-digit temps, chance of snow, panic-buying of bread, milk, and shovels.  Until then, I'll be eating all the carbs in the house, dripping our faucets, and promising my first-born* to the devil to get a coupla snow days out of this mess.

On the internet, nobody knows you're a cat

*Nobody tell the Prince of Darkness, but joke's on him if he thinks I'm keeping up my end of the bargain

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Have you peeped the Calvin Klein ad featuring Jeremy Allen (Tighty) White(y)?  Not gonna lie, I thought this dude was hot back when he played Lip on Shameless, except he was a teenager and I was a full-on adult, so I felt gross about it.  Also, I had to stop watching that show because I was like, wait, the whole show revolves around the ways these kids cope with having an alcoholic fuck-up for a dad, who continually lets them down, embarrasses them, and disappoints them?  Sounds neat!  But I've already seen that documentary.

Federal researchers recommend easing marijuana restrictions?  I'll drink toke consume an edible to that!

Lol at this quote:

"In 38 states, marijuana is legal for medical use; it’s legal for recreational use in two dozen states and territories. Its pungent scent has become common in many communities, wafting from car windows at intersections in California and hanging over the crowds in Times Square."

Every spring, it occurs to me to wonder whether children growing up in East Nashville will reach adulthood with a sensory memory that associates flowering trees with the smell of marijuana.  Because as soon as the weather turns and the dogwoods and cherries and Bradford pears start to bloom, it's also Bring Your Bong Out on the Porch season (BYBOP, for those who observe the custom) and you can't walk your dog without practically picking up a lil' contact high.  I picture a particularly sheltered child rolling into their freshman dorm in college in late August, smelling weed, and asking their roommate why it smells like dogwood trees out of season.  Try living that one down.  It won't be easy, nerd.

Analog Reading:

OMG the ending of Birnam Wood, by Eleanor Catton.  I need to talk about it with someone who has read it.  All I could do was sit back and think, "Well, that escalated quickly."  And also, "Wow, didn't see that coming."  I'm not sure if it was purely entertaining and sensational, or if it was kind of un-earned.

Now I'm nearly finished reading Stephen King's Finder's Keepers, the 2nd book in the Mr. Mercedes series.  Damn, does that guy spin a yarn.  Does he still, for reasons I cannot fathom, insist on slipping the n-word into every book he writes?  Ugh, yeah.  Does he sometimes use schlocky, stilted dialogue?  Affirmative.  But overall, does the prose flow such that a 500+ page book pulls you along like a raft on rushing river, where the water is running high and you scarcely notice the rapids?  Hell yes.

Syllabus #234

First post of the new year.  Please stand by for my tedious list of grand proclamations about the New Me that I expect this New Year to bring.

Actually, I didn't make a single dang resolution, because I'm already perfect realistic.  

You know what, though?  That's not entirely true.  The other day at work, a bunch of us were kvetching in the copy room about how the building's HVAC system has been on its last legs for as long as most of us can remember, and there's almost always at least one wing of the building that has no heat on the coldest days.  I declared to all within earshot, "Hey, I made a New Year's Resolution...just now...that whenever my heat isn't working, I'm just gonna go home."  I'd rather burn a sick day than lose a digit to Reynaud's-related lack of circulation.  New Year, Warm Me.

According to my media consumption, we are doing Dry January along with most of the rest of the adult populace of the country.  It has been my custom for the past 6 or 7 years, and lately, Andy has been joining me.  We usually let it ride for several additional months.  Last year I think I abstained through at least the end of April, and then I went on another sober-bender from August through mid-October.  If you see me wearing a lampshade at a party, I'm almost certainly not drunk, I just have social anxiety, okay?

I'll tell ya though, nothing makes you feel more smug about your drinking choices than going for a jog in bracing 38-degree weather on New Year's Day and hopping over puddles of vomit and soda bottles full of peepees as you trot past your favorite bar.

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Naturally, all of these offerings this week are on the theme of wringing out your liver, or maybe just re-evaluating your habits, after the inevitable holiday binging.

To detox or not to detox?  That is the question, that is apparently answered in this article.  

Do you call it Dry January, or Drynuary, or something else entirely.  Drynuary sounds like an STI.  

Do you need to meticulously prepare for your dry spell and trick yourself with NA replacements, etc., or do you just rip the bandaid off and raw dog the experience?  

Amanda Knox bringing more wisdom hard-earned in an Italian prison cell.  This time, it's about cutting alcohol, cold-turkey (except for toilet hooch, once).

Analog Reading:

Finished Lauren Groff's The Vaster Wilds in the wee hours of January 1st.  Great story.  The visceral details really helped me identify with the protagonist.  Every time she had diarrhea in the woods, I was like, It. Me.

Read all of Lore Segal's short story collection, Ladies' Lunch, in one day.  It was short, but not sweet.  Bittersweet, maybe.  I didn't love it, but maybe I just wasn't in the right headspace for it.

Now I'm about 2/3 through Birnam Wood by Eleanor Catton.  It started out slow for me, and the prose felt a little stilted somehow, but now that the element of intrigue and scandal in the plot is really picking up, I'm here for it.