I’ve been thinking for some time now that I’d post something about the election, but it really seems like we have all woken up in one of the less sophisticated interpretations of Wonderland, and I don’t think there’s anything I can say about it all that hasn’t been said better elsewhere.
Jon Snow Tony Soprano Liz Lemon Selina Myer Maria von Trapp Ron in Party Down Basil Fawlty Things I Have Spent a Decent Amount of Mental Energy Comparing to Leadership, Only to Suddenly Realize I Am Doing So and Feel Sheepish About It: Magic the Gathering (in particular, assembling a good deck)
Here’s what I’ve been reading over the late summer and into fall:
Recently, I received a circular in the mail entitled “The Scout Guide: Austin, Texas.” It was printed on really nice paper, so I flipped through it briefly as I carried it and all my other mail directly to the recycling bin as usual. At first, it seemed like your usual booklet of ads for upmarket stores, but then I started noticing something odd about it.
Well, I did it again. I waited too long. So, here’s a giant post on everything I read this whole summer! This is going to be so long that I can’t imagine anyone will read it except possibly my mother, but now that I’ve started doing this, I feel a compulsive need to blog about every single book I read (almost), so sorry! (Also, I’m glad this one is so long because there is something buried toward the end of it that will make almost everyone I like mad at me if they see it.)
My little buddy is gone. She lived with me in four states, across three apartments and two houses and six rooms. I made her two salads a day for almost seven years, and I checked in with her every single time I went in or out of any one of my living rooms, and now I’m still checking in with her every time I come in or out, and I’m still talking to her without thinking about it, and I feel like these things are deep down in my muscle memory, and so I wonder how long it will be until I…
I haven’t posted a feminist rant here in a really long time, so PULL UP A CHAIR. I’ve been feeling really irritated about the whole self love thing lately, and it took me awhile to articulate why to myself, but I think I’ve finally figured it out.
I’ve been busy and I’ve also been thinking about being busy, and about jobs and women and parenting and families, and I think that all of the arguing boils down to the fact that, for ordinary people with ordinary energy levels, only the following configurations are possible:
But everyone must go over to Buzzfeed and read this letter that the woman who Brock Turner raped read to him in court. It’s very long and very depressing, and for many of us, it is a sunny summer weekend, and yet, you must read all of it, down to the last word, no exceptions. I’m insisting. Best go ahead and get it over with now!
After much thought, I think I have arrived on the final set of three wishes I would make should a genie ever present me with the option: Make me independently wealthy, such that forever after I will have all the money I want to do whatever I feel like doing without ever having to work for it or worry about it. Make me a white American man who looks exactly like Jon Hamm. Give me an IQ of 160. I’m assuming that these wishes would all be in addition to whatever I already have; and not any tricksy nonsense like…