I wrote two weeks ago about some thoughts I'd been swishing around in my brain. They were all about making deliberate choices, writing, and caring about personal growth.
This is a transitional time in my life. We just celebrated the new year. A new president is in office (and with him, much angst and justified fear has settled in). My second child is getting into a phase that's less draining. I also recently left a group blog where I'd been contributing regular posts for three years. All these things combine to make me feel like I'm on the precipice of something. Or of some things, multiple.
One of those things is greater civic engagement. My capacity's a bit limited by ... you know, life circumstances, like having two little kids and a strict budget and irregular access to a car, but it's nice to have this fire inside. I went to my local Women's March earlier this week, and I'm following the progress of a handful of bills I care about, and I'm contacting my legislators. It's all a start.
Another? Writing. Finding words and getting them out of my head and onto some flat or digital surface. This cultural moment is weird, though, because prevailing voices suggest ways to be strategic in writing, ways to build your brand, etc. And I waffle on whether or not that's a good approach for me. I just know that the act of writing is really freaking helpful for me as I try to figure out what I believe and value and where I've messed up and what steps to take next. So, in the spirit of my son's bike-riding mantra, I want to focus on watching my going, documenting the big and small stuff that makes up my life right now.
I'm about to turn 30, and I'm excited for that. One more big transitional marker. Let it be the beginning of my most curious decade yet.
More Thoughts
Friday, January 13, 2017
Some things have been simmering in my head this past week ...
First, something my friend Courtney said: "I loved blogging until it became less about sharing of ideas and more about presentation. I don't know many blogs that survived the oncoming of hyper-curated lifestyle blogging. And maybe that's just a natural evolution, but I also would argue that it's not healthy to lose so many women who were writing important narrative simply because they couldn't keep up with what they were seeing. Can we talk about that? Can we talk about what killed the personal blog? Practically every woman I knew was writing a decade ago, and now I don't know any of them keeping up with those blogs. And for some it was because life became too busy, some decided to not be public, but a whole lot of them just said they became too intimidated or tired trying to keep up with how blogging became so much about how everything looked.
Economics aside, that's a damn shame. I don't blame the bloggers that moved into that space, but I do, very much blame the patriarchal culture that moved thinking and writing women of my community off the internet."
Second, this blog post from Sarah von Bargen at Yes and Yes: "But what I see is a reminder that everything matters. I see confirmation that the tiny choices I make every day add up to something. That might sound demoralizing or overwhelming but I’m choosing to see it as wildly empowering."
Third, Michelle Obama's encouraging words from her final official address as First Lady.
Fourth, this essay from Rachel Held Evans, which is superb from start to finish, but here's what's relevant here: "This was a strange year to have a baby. Perhaps, for you, it was a strange year to lose your father, to be ordained, to become a citizen. But if the incarnation has anything to say about it, we don’t get to wait around for ideal circumstances to begin creating, birthing, nurturing, planting, protesting, and working together to heal the world. So my prayer for you today, and in the days, weeks, and months ahead, is this: No matter what it means to you, take the risk of birth. Don’t be afraid. Finish the book. Pursue the relationship. Begin the ministry. Push the boundaries. Join the march. Write the screenplay. Do the dishes. Plant the onions. Carry the child. Roll around on the floor with your giggling toddler as if the world was even fractionally worthy of his presence. I’m so glad I did."
Fifth is from my life. My three-year-old got a bike for Christmas, and he's been learning to ride it in our hallway. At first, he focused intently on watching his feet while he pedaled; this caused more than a few run-ins with walls and furniture. I started telling him, "Watch where you're going." He's translated this into the toddler mantra, "Watch your going." I love hearing him say this. The first time, it occurred to me that my direction and his parroting of it were actually two sides of a coin -- look ahead to what's in front of you, yes, but also, pay attention to the progress you're making. Look as you go. Watch your actual going.
All these little nuggets are related, revolving around something important for me, but I haven't found the right words for it yet. More soon. I'll let it keep simmering.
First, something my friend Courtney said: "I loved blogging until it became less about sharing of ideas and more about presentation. I don't know many blogs that survived the oncoming of hyper-curated lifestyle blogging. And maybe that's just a natural evolution, but I also would argue that it's not healthy to lose so many women who were writing important narrative simply because they couldn't keep up with what they were seeing. Can we talk about that? Can we talk about what killed the personal blog? Practically every woman I knew was writing a decade ago, and now I don't know any of them keeping up with those blogs. And for some it was because life became too busy, some decided to not be public, but a whole lot of them just said they became too intimidated or tired trying to keep up with how blogging became so much about how everything looked.
Economics aside, that's a damn shame. I don't blame the bloggers that moved into that space, but I do, very much blame the patriarchal culture that moved thinking and writing women of my community off the internet."
Second, this blog post from Sarah von Bargen at Yes and Yes: "But what I see is a reminder that everything matters. I see confirmation that the tiny choices I make every day add up to something. That might sound demoralizing or overwhelming but I’m choosing to see it as wildly empowering."
Third, Michelle Obama's encouraging words from her final official address as First Lady.
Fourth, this essay from Rachel Held Evans, which is superb from start to finish, but here's what's relevant here: "This was a strange year to have a baby. Perhaps, for you, it was a strange year to lose your father, to be ordained, to become a citizen. But if the incarnation has anything to say about it, we don’t get to wait around for ideal circumstances to begin creating, birthing, nurturing, planting, protesting, and working together to heal the world. So my prayer for you today, and in the days, weeks, and months ahead, is this: No matter what it means to you, take the risk of birth. Don’t be afraid. Finish the book. Pursue the relationship. Begin the ministry. Push the boundaries. Join the march. Write the screenplay. Do the dishes. Plant the onions. Carry the child. Roll around on the floor with your giggling toddler as if the world was even fractionally worthy of his presence. I’m so glad I did."
Fifth is from my life. My three-year-old got a bike for Christmas, and he's been learning to ride it in our hallway. At first, he focused intently on watching his feet while he pedaled; this caused more than a few run-ins with walls and furniture. I started telling him, "Watch where you're going." He's translated this into the toddler mantra, "Watch your going." I love hearing him say this. The first time, it occurred to me that my direction and his parroting of it were actually two sides of a coin -- look ahead to what's in front of you, yes, but also, pay attention to the progress you're making. Look as you go. Watch your actual going.
All these little nuggets are related, revolving around something important for me, but I haven't found the right words for it yet. More soon. I'll let it keep simmering.
Friday, December 16, 2016
I had a lot of extra time this week, and I used a good chunk of it reading back through things I'd bookmarked on Facebook. Here are some things that stood out as interesting, funny, inspiring, or valuable.
Why the British Tell Better Children's Stories (The Atlantic): "If British children gathered in the glow of the kitchen hearth to hear stories about magic swords and talking bears, American children sat at their mother’s knee listening to tales larded with moral messages about a world where life was hard, obedience emphasized, and Christian morality valued. Each style has its virtues, but the British approach undoubtedly yields the kinds of stories that appeal to the furthest reaches of children’s imagination."
The Saga of My Rape Kit (The New York Times): "There’s a justified impression that the backlog of untested rape kits is, at least in part, a result of indifference on the part of the police and others in authority dismissing rape as unworthy of prosecution. But this part of the backlog, made of pre-Codis kits like mine, was a result of forward-thinking and diligent police and medical personnel who cared so much about rape that they collected and kept evidence that they, at the time without a database to match up to, would not themselves get to take to court."
Lots of stuff from and about Van Jones ... his appearance on The Daily Show with Trevor Noah, his interview in Salon, and his profile in Rolling Stone.
17 Badass Women You Probably Didn't Hear About in 2016 (Buzzfeed)
Ann Patchett's Guide for Bookstore Lovers (The New York Times): "Before we opened Parnassus, I made a fact-finding tour of American bookstores. The best advice I got was this: If you want customers, you have to raise them yourself. That means a strong children’s section. If e-books have taken a bite out of the adult market, they’ve done very little damage to children’s books, maybe because even the most tech-savvy parents understand that reading “Goodnight Moon” off your phone doesn’t create the same occasion for bonding."
Men Dump Their Anger Into Women (Medium): "...women are expected to regulate the emotions of men as well as themselves. They have to sharpen their emotional regulation skillz because they’ll be regulating for two even when they’re not pregnant. This has been a thing that’s starting to get noticed in feminist circles; the concept of unpaid emotional labor that women are expected to supply. This takes many forms ... and at its most benign looks like listening, support and empathy. However, as it becomes more noxious, women are expected to read the emotions [of] men and proactively protect them from their own negative emotions."
Glenn Beck's Regrets (The Atlantic): "Among big-time national conservative talk-show hosts, Beck—who is tied with Levin for the third-largest listenership after Limbaugh and Hannity—was a rare exception. He didn’t just oppose Trump. He compared him to Hitler. He warned that Trump was a possible 'extinction-level event' for American democracy and capitalism. In an attempt to defeat Trump, Beck campaigned during the primaries for Ted Cruz. Then, when Cruz endorsed Trump, Beck apologized for having supported him."
32 Movie Categories You Wouldn't Find on Netflix (Buzzfeed) ... my favorite's probably "movies where Ben Affleck is a bad husband"
An idea of how to break the news about Santa to older kids, by recruiting them to the Santa cause (ha, pun).
The Nation revisits what was published in its pages in December 1865 when the 13th Amendment (prohibiting slavery) was ratified. "The framers of the Constitution of the United States did not dream that the compromises with slavery, which they so reluctantly consented to incorporate in that instrument, enclosed the seeds of the wickedest and bloodiest civil war that the world has ever seen. Believing a union of the States indispensable to the national life, and therefore a paramount necessity, they were too easily persuaded that, for the sake of achieving so great a good, they might safely make terms with the supporters of a system which they acknowledged to be inconsistent with republican principles and a blot upon the national character, but which they thought was sure of extinction at no very distant day. But the attempt of a nation to shield with the forms of law an institution in flagrant antagonism with its highest professions, and with the principles of justice and humanity, is alike impious and demoralizing, and, if long persisted in, is sure to undermine the foundations of social order and public security."
The Secret to Love is Just Kindness (The Atlantic): "Throughout the day, partners would make requests for connection, what Gottman calls 'bids.' For example, say that the husband is a bird enthusiast and notices a goldfinch fly across the yard. He might say to his wife, 'Look at that beautiful bird outside!' He’s not just commenting on the bird here: he’s requesting a response from his wife—a sign of interest or support—hoping they’ll connect, however momentarily, over the bird ... These bidding interactions had profound effects on marital well-being. Couples who had divorced after a six-year follow up had 'turn-toward bids' 33 percent of the time. Only three in ten of their bids for emotional connection were met with intimacy. The couples who were still together after six years had 'turn-toward bids' 87 percent of the time. Nine times out of ten, they were meeting their partner’s emotional needs."
Not Wanting Kids is Entirely Normal (The Atlantic): "In 2008, Nebraska decriminalized child abandonment. The move was part of a 'safe haven' law designed to address increased rates of infanticide in the state. Like other safe-haven laws, parents in Nebraska who felt unprepared to care for their babies could drop them off in a designated location without fear of arrest and prosecution. But legislators made a major logistical error: They failed to implement an age limitation for dropped-off children. Within just weeks of the law passing, parents started dropping off their kids. But here's the rub: None of them were infants. A couple of months in, 36 children had been left in state hospitals and police stations. Twenty-two of the children were over 13 years old. A 51-year-old grandmother dropped off a 12-year-old boy. One father dropped off his entire family -- nine children from ages one to 17. Others drove from neighboring states to drop off their children once they heard that they could abandon them without repercussion."
Saturday Night Live spotlighted that most predictable of nondescript Christmas gifts in The Christmas Candle. Complete with a choir and 80s-tastic hairdos.
Obama Reckons with a Trump Presidency (The New Yorker): "Although Obama and his aides had long been alarmed by Trump’s disturbing rhetoric and loose grasp of policy, they decided that the best path forward was to assume the mask of decorum. It was a matter of amour-propre, but—again—also of tactics. To have any chance to influence Trump, they had to avoid any trace of the contempt that had once been so pronounced. Perhaps the more acute personal sadness for White House staffers was the vision of Obama and Trump sitting side by side in the Oval Office. A President who fought with dignity to rescue the country from economic catastrophe and to press for progressive change—from marriage equality to the alleviation of climate change—was putting on a mask of generous equanimity for a visitor whom he had every good reason to despise, an ethically challenged real-estate brander who had launched his political career by promoting “birtherism,” and then ran a sexist and bigoted campaign to galvanize his base. In the Oval Office, the President was quick to comfort the young members of his staff, but he was, an aide told me, even more concerned about the wounding effect the election would have on the categories of Americans who had been routinely insulted and humiliated by the President-elect. At a social occasion earlier this year, someone asked Michelle Obama how it was possible for her husband to maintain his equipoise amid so much hatred. “You have no idea how bad it is,” she said. His practiced calm is beyond reckoning."
Four notable people wrote about Michelle Obama in "To the First Lady, With Love." The most beautiful sentiments came from Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie. A taste: "She first appeared in the public consciousness, all common sense and mordant humor, at ease in her skin. She had the air of a woman who could balance a checkbook, and who knew a good deal when she saw it, and who would tell off whomever needed telling off. She was tall and sure and stylish. She was reluctant to be first lady, and did not hide her reluctance beneath platitudes. She seemed not so much unique as true. She sharpened her husband’s then-hazy form, made him solid, more than just a dream."
Adichie also shined in this piece in The New Yorker, entitled "Now Is the Time to Talk About What We Are Actually Talking About": "Now is the time to resist the slightest extension in the boundaries of what is right and just. Now is the time to speak up and to wear as a badge of honor the opprobrium of bigots. Now is the time to confront the weak core at the heart of America’s addiction to optimism; it allows too little room for resilience, and too much for fragility. Hazy visions of 'healing' and 'not becoming the hate we hate' sound dangerously like appeasement. The responsibility to forge unity belongs not to the denigrated but to the denigrators. The premise for empathy has to be equal humanity; it is an injustice to demand that the maligned identify with those who question their humanity."
A Dutch graphic designer has created a font called Dyslexie, specifically made to help dyslexic people read more easily and accurately. (And speaking of dyslexic people and/or people with dyslexia, I was super intrigued by this discussion of identity-first vs. person-first language.)
How Stable Are Democracies? 'Warning Signs Are Flashing Red' (The New York Times): "According to the Mounk-Foa early-warning system, signs of democratic deconsolidation in the United States and many other liberal democracies are now similar to those in Venezuela before its crisis. Across numerous countries, including Australia, Britain, the Netherlands, New Zealand, Sweden and the United States, the percentage of people who say it is 'essential' to live in a democracy has plummeted, and it is especially low among younger generations."
Donald Trump and the Legacy of Andrew Jackson (The Atlantic): "Jackson, like Trump, won over many white working-class voters, who brushed aside critics who warned that he was unstable and a would-be dictator. He maintained their loyalty even though, like Trump, he was of the elite. Though not born to wealth as Trump was, Jackson made his fortune on the early American frontier. He did not clear out Washington elites so much as bring a new coalition of elites to power: New York politicians and Pennsylvania businessmen allied with Southern slaveholders. Jackson tended to their special interests. He also used political patronage to stuff the government with Jackson loyalists. There is something Jacksonian both in Trump’s promise to “drain the swamp” of Washington and his early moves to refill the swamp with wealthy friends, loyal supporters, and family members."
The case for normalizing Trump (Vox): "To beat Trump, what his opponents need to do is practice ordinary humdrum politics. Populists in office thrive on a circus-like atmosphere that casts the populist leader as persecuted by media and political elites who are obsessed with his uncouth behavior while he is busy doing the people’s work. To beat Trump, progressives will need to do as much as they can to get American politics out of reality show mode."
The Everyday Bravery series of pins (by Emily McDowell) rewards terrific behaviors and actions with options like "Someone Didn't Like Me and It Was Okay" and "Picked My Battles."
A video featuring Brenda White Bull, the great-great granddaughter of Sitting Bull. Also, this piece in Time proclaims that "Women Are the Backbone of the Standing Rock Movement."
What Everyone Talking About Syria Should Know (Elephant Journal): "The conflict began when the Assad regime assassinated a thousand pro-democracy demonstrators over the course of three months in the spring of 2011. This prompted defectors from the national army who did not want to fire on protesters to form militias in defense of demonstrators and their communities. Since that time roughly half a million people have been killed, the vast bulk of them by the regime. Most of the killing has been done through barrel-bombs—rusty old barrels, filled with shrapnel and chlorine—indiscriminately dropped on civilians by the regime, which has the only air force. The bombings have obliterated massive portions of three of Syria’s four largest cities."
25 Words That Are Their Own Opposites (Mental Floss)
18 Times Tumblr Nailed Fragile Masculinity (Buzzfeed)
Colleges Really Need to Rethink the Career Advice They Deliver (The Atlantic): "Incidentally, graduates with the largest amounts of student debt were more likely than those with less debt to say they found their visits to their career-services offices to be not at all helpful, which, Busteed noted, raises the question of whether the offices are clued into which students have debt, and whether they tailor their advice accordingly. Right now, services are often very siloed. And, Busteed added, students often select a major, then take out loans to pay for it, and then look for a job, when it might make more sense to meet with a career-services officer early, firm up some job goals, and backtrack into a major that makes sense."
We're Missing 90 Percent of the Dakota Access Pipeline Story (Earth Justice): "I saw that this assembly of indigenous tribes and supporters is among the most serene and peaceful groups of people I have been around. They are not unified by indignity. What unifies the thousands of water protectors who are bracing for the incoming winter is devotion and prayer. In fact, elders and tribal leaders told us repeatedly that tribal camps aren’t protests; these are ceremonies being held at a sacred place. And, they told us, they expect the behavior of their brothers and sisters to reflect that."
Why I Left White Nationalism (The New York Times): "Most of Mr. Trump’s supporters did not intend to attack our most vulnerable citizens. But with him in office we have a duty to protect those who are threatened by this administration and to win over those who don’t recognize the impact of their vote. Even those on the furthest extreme of the white nationalist spectrum don’t recognize themselves doing harm — I know that because it was easy for me, too, to deny it."
The Lenny Interview: Zadie Smith (Lenny Letter): "I am resistant to a lot of the Internet, not because I disapprove but because the feelings I personally draw from it seem to me shallow and don't lead me anywhere useful or pleasurable. A lot of the social platforms provoke feelings in me I simply don't enjoy. For a moment I am flattered, falsely puffed up, briefly amused, painfully hurt, or infuriated. I accept it feels different for other people, but I have to gravitate to the things that really interest and excite me while I'm alive."
How to Deal With the Lies of Donald Trump: Guidelines for the Media (The Atlantic): "On a single day during the campaign, Trump claimed that the National Football League had sent him a letter complaining that the presidential-debate schedule conflicted with NFL games (which the NFL immediately denied), and then he said the Koch brothers had begged him to accept their donations (which they also flat-out denied). Most people would hesitate before telling easily disprovable lies like these, much as shoplifters would hesitate if the store owner is looking at them. Most people are fazed if caught in an outright lie. But in these cases and others, Trump never blinked. As part of his indispensable campaign coverage this summer, David Fahrenthold (and Robert O’Harrow) of The Washington Post offered astonishing documentation of Trump being caught in a long string of business-related lies and simply not caring. The news media are not built for someone like this."
Utah lawyers step up to protect Muslim refugees from discrimination, threats (The Salt Lake Tribune): "Since Donald Trump was elected president, Muslim refugees in Utah report increased bullying in schools, harassment at work, menacing by strangers and threats to pull off girls' hijabs, their religious headscarves. So on Tuesday, 50 attorneys announced that they have formed the new Refugee Justice League of Utah. Without fees, it will seek to prevent or remedy harassment and, as a last resort, sue in court — even the president-elect if he pursues proposals to create a registry of Muslims. Utah refugees 'need to know that they have friends who are willing to help them,' said Jim McConkie, a civil-rights attorney and founding member of the league."
Why the British Tell Better Children's Stories (The Atlantic): "If British children gathered in the glow of the kitchen hearth to hear stories about magic swords and talking bears, American children sat at their mother’s knee listening to tales larded with moral messages about a world where life was hard, obedience emphasized, and Christian morality valued. Each style has its virtues, but the British approach undoubtedly yields the kinds of stories that appeal to the furthest reaches of children’s imagination."
Grandmas Reuse Plastic Bags to Make Sleeping Mats for the Homeless (kinda want to steal their method and make a huge living room rug tbh)
Five Questions About Russia's Election Hacking (The Atlantic): "Four U.S. senators, including former Republican presidential nominee John McCain, have now called for an inquiry into Russia’s actions to aid Donald Trump. The incoming Trump administration opposes such an inquiry, perhaps for the compelling reason that it knows how embarrassing it might be. The immediate question is whether the Republican majority in the Senate will proceed over the objection of a Republican president. Let’s hope it does."
How to be last: A practical theology for privileged people (Christena Cleveland): "Then he punctuates the story [of the workers in the vineyard] with one of his most theologically challenging statements: 'Thus the last will be first and the first will be last.' And the privileged people who worked a full day are irate. They can’t believe it! They were expecting equality. They were expecting to get paid more than the people who worked less than a full day. What they didn’t know is that Jesus isn't interested in equality; Jesus is interested in equity. Jesus doesn’t want everyone to be treated equally (e.g., treated the same); Jesus wants everyone to be treated equitably (e.g., each person is given what they uniquely need in order to fully participate in the kinship and mutuality of the kin-dom of heaven). In this story, equity meant that the privileged people, who had benefited from their privilege all day, received the same wage as the oppressed people who were not given the opportunity of full-day employment that the privileged people automatically received. It meant that in an equitable world, the first became last and the last became first."
The New Ephemeral Architecture of Burning Man (Tiny House Blog)
Why Time's Trump Cover Is a Subversive Work of Political Art (Forward): "The brilliance of the chair however, is visual rather than historical. It’s a gaudy symbol of wealth and status, but if you look at the top right corner, you can see a rip in the upholstery, signifying Trump’s own cracked image. Behind the bluster, behind the glowing displays of wealth, behind the glittering promises, we have the debt, the tastelessness, the demagoguery, the racism, the lack of government experience or knowledge (all of which we unfortunately know too well already). Once we notice the rip, the splotches on the wood come into focus, the cracks in Trump’s makeup, the thinness of his hair, the stain on the bottom left corner of the seat — the entire illusion of grandeur begins to collapse. The cover is less an image of a man in power than the freeze frame of a leader, and his country, in a state of decay. The ghostly shadow works overtime here — suggesting a splendor that has already passed, if it ever existed at all."
Lots of stuff from and about Van Jones ... his appearance on The Daily Show with Trevor Noah, his interview in Salon, and his profile in Rolling Stone.
17 Badass Women You Probably Didn't Hear About in 2016 (Buzzfeed)
Ann Patchett's Guide for Bookstore Lovers (The New York Times): "Before we opened Parnassus, I made a fact-finding tour of American bookstores. The best advice I got was this: If you want customers, you have to raise them yourself. That means a strong children’s section. If e-books have taken a bite out of the adult market, they’ve done very little damage to children’s books, maybe because even the most tech-savvy parents understand that reading “Goodnight Moon” off your phone doesn’t create the same occasion for bonding."
Men Dump Their Anger Into Women (Medium): "...women are expected to regulate the emotions of men as well as themselves. They have to sharpen their emotional regulation skillz because they’ll be regulating for two even when they’re not pregnant. This has been a thing that’s starting to get noticed in feminist circles; the concept of unpaid emotional labor that women are expected to supply. This takes many forms ... and at its most benign looks like listening, support and empathy. However, as it becomes more noxious, women are expected to read the emotions [of] men and proactively protect them from their own negative emotions."
Glenn Beck's Regrets (The Atlantic): "Among big-time national conservative talk-show hosts, Beck—who is tied with Levin for the third-largest listenership after Limbaugh and Hannity—was a rare exception. He didn’t just oppose Trump. He compared him to Hitler. He warned that Trump was a possible 'extinction-level event' for American democracy and capitalism. In an attempt to defeat Trump, Beck campaigned during the primaries for Ted Cruz. Then, when Cruz endorsed Trump, Beck apologized for having supported him."
32 Movie Categories You Wouldn't Find on Netflix (Buzzfeed) ... my favorite's probably "movies where Ben Affleck is a bad husband"
An idea of how to break the news about Santa to older kids, by recruiting them to the Santa cause (ha, pun).
The Nation revisits what was published in its pages in December 1865 when the 13th Amendment (prohibiting slavery) was ratified. "The framers of the Constitution of the United States did not dream that the compromises with slavery, which they so reluctantly consented to incorporate in that instrument, enclosed the seeds of the wickedest and bloodiest civil war that the world has ever seen. Believing a union of the States indispensable to the national life, and therefore a paramount necessity, they were too easily persuaded that, for the sake of achieving so great a good, they might safely make terms with the supporters of a system which they acknowledged to be inconsistent with republican principles and a blot upon the national character, but which they thought was sure of extinction at no very distant day. But the attempt of a nation to shield with the forms of law an institution in flagrant antagonism with its highest professions, and with the principles of justice and humanity, is alike impious and demoralizing, and, if long persisted in, is sure to undermine the foundations of social order and public security."
The Secret to Love is Just Kindness (The Atlantic): "Throughout the day, partners would make requests for connection, what Gottman calls 'bids.' For example, say that the husband is a bird enthusiast and notices a goldfinch fly across the yard. He might say to his wife, 'Look at that beautiful bird outside!' He’s not just commenting on the bird here: he’s requesting a response from his wife—a sign of interest or support—hoping they’ll connect, however momentarily, over the bird ... These bidding interactions had profound effects on marital well-being. Couples who had divorced after a six-year follow up had 'turn-toward bids' 33 percent of the time. Only three in ten of their bids for emotional connection were met with intimacy. The couples who were still together after six years had 'turn-toward bids' 87 percent of the time. Nine times out of ten, they were meeting their partner’s emotional needs."
Not Wanting Kids is Entirely Normal (The Atlantic): "In 2008, Nebraska decriminalized child abandonment. The move was part of a 'safe haven' law designed to address increased rates of infanticide in the state. Like other safe-haven laws, parents in Nebraska who felt unprepared to care for their babies could drop them off in a designated location without fear of arrest and prosecution. But legislators made a major logistical error: They failed to implement an age limitation for dropped-off children. Within just weeks of the law passing, parents started dropping off their kids. But here's the rub: None of them were infants. A couple of months in, 36 children had been left in state hospitals and police stations. Twenty-two of the children were over 13 years old. A 51-year-old grandmother dropped off a 12-year-old boy. One father dropped off his entire family -- nine children from ages one to 17. Others drove from neighboring states to drop off their children once they heard that they could abandon them without repercussion."
Saturday Night Live spotlighted that most predictable of nondescript Christmas gifts in The Christmas Candle. Complete with a choir and 80s-tastic hairdos.
Obama Reckons with a Trump Presidency (The New Yorker): "Although Obama and his aides had long been alarmed by Trump’s disturbing rhetoric and loose grasp of policy, they decided that the best path forward was to assume the mask of decorum. It was a matter of amour-propre, but—again—also of tactics. To have any chance to influence Trump, they had to avoid any trace of the contempt that had once been so pronounced. Perhaps the more acute personal sadness for White House staffers was the vision of Obama and Trump sitting side by side in the Oval Office. A President who fought with dignity to rescue the country from economic catastrophe and to press for progressive change—from marriage equality to the alleviation of climate change—was putting on a mask of generous equanimity for a visitor whom he had every good reason to despise, an ethically challenged real-estate brander who had launched his political career by promoting “birtherism,” and then ran a sexist and bigoted campaign to galvanize his base. In the Oval Office, the President was quick to comfort the young members of his staff, but he was, an aide told me, even more concerned about the wounding effect the election would have on the categories of Americans who had been routinely insulted and humiliated by the President-elect. At a social occasion earlier this year, someone asked Michelle Obama how it was possible for her husband to maintain his equipoise amid so much hatred. “You have no idea how bad it is,” she said. His practiced calm is beyond reckoning."
Four notable people wrote about Michelle Obama in "To the First Lady, With Love." The most beautiful sentiments came from Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie. A taste: "She first appeared in the public consciousness, all common sense and mordant humor, at ease in her skin. She had the air of a woman who could balance a checkbook, and who knew a good deal when she saw it, and who would tell off whomever needed telling off. She was tall and sure and stylish. She was reluctant to be first lady, and did not hide her reluctance beneath platitudes. She seemed not so much unique as true. She sharpened her husband’s then-hazy form, made him solid, more than just a dream."
Adichie also shined in this piece in The New Yorker, entitled "Now Is the Time to Talk About What We Are Actually Talking About": "Now is the time to resist the slightest extension in the boundaries of what is right and just. Now is the time to speak up and to wear as a badge of honor the opprobrium of bigots. Now is the time to confront the weak core at the heart of America’s addiction to optimism; it allows too little room for resilience, and too much for fragility. Hazy visions of 'healing' and 'not becoming the hate we hate' sound dangerously like appeasement. The responsibility to forge unity belongs not to the denigrated but to the denigrators. The premise for empathy has to be equal humanity; it is an injustice to demand that the maligned identify with those who question their humanity."
A Dutch graphic designer has created a font called Dyslexie, specifically made to help dyslexic people read more easily and accurately. (And speaking of dyslexic people and/or people with dyslexia, I was super intrigued by this discussion of identity-first vs. person-first language.)
How Stable Are Democracies? 'Warning Signs Are Flashing Red' (The New York Times): "According to the Mounk-Foa early-warning system, signs of democratic deconsolidation in the United States and many other liberal democracies are now similar to those in Venezuela before its crisis. Across numerous countries, including Australia, Britain, the Netherlands, New Zealand, Sweden and the United States, the percentage of people who say it is 'essential' to live in a democracy has plummeted, and it is especially low among younger generations."
Donald Trump and the Legacy of Andrew Jackson (The Atlantic): "Jackson, like Trump, won over many white working-class voters, who brushed aside critics who warned that he was unstable and a would-be dictator. He maintained their loyalty even though, like Trump, he was of the elite. Though not born to wealth as Trump was, Jackson made his fortune on the early American frontier. He did not clear out Washington elites so much as bring a new coalition of elites to power: New York politicians and Pennsylvania businessmen allied with Southern slaveholders. Jackson tended to their special interests. He also used political patronage to stuff the government with Jackson loyalists. There is something Jacksonian both in Trump’s promise to “drain the swamp” of Washington and his early moves to refill the swamp with wealthy friends, loyal supporters, and family members."
The case for normalizing Trump (Vox): "To beat Trump, what his opponents need to do is practice ordinary humdrum politics. Populists in office thrive on a circus-like atmosphere that casts the populist leader as persecuted by media and political elites who are obsessed with his uncouth behavior while he is busy doing the people’s work. To beat Trump, progressives will need to do as much as they can to get American politics out of reality show mode."
The Everyday Bravery series of pins (by Emily McDowell) rewards terrific behaviors and actions with options like "Someone Didn't Like Me and It Was Okay" and "Picked My Battles."
A video featuring Brenda White Bull, the great-great granddaughter of Sitting Bull. Also, this piece in Time proclaims that "Women Are the Backbone of the Standing Rock Movement."
What Everyone Talking About Syria Should Know (Elephant Journal): "The conflict began when the Assad regime assassinated a thousand pro-democracy demonstrators over the course of three months in the spring of 2011. This prompted defectors from the national army who did not want to fire on protesters to form militias in defense of demonstrators and their communities. Since that time roughly half a million people have been killed, the vast bulk of them by the regime. Most of the killing has been done through barrel-bombs—rusty old barrels, filled with shrapnel and chlorine—indiscriminately dropped on civilians by the regime, which has the only air force. The bombings have obliterated massive portions of three of Syria’s four largest cities."
25 Words That Are Their Own Opposites (Mental Floss)
18 Times Tumblr Nailed Fragile Masculinity (Buzzfeed)
Colleges Really Need to Rethink the Career Advice They Deliver (The Atlantic): "Incidentally, graduates with the largest amounts of student debt were more likely than those with less debt to say they found their visits to their career-services offices to be not at all helpful, which, Busteed noted, raises the question of whether the offices are clued into which students have debt, and whether they tailor their advice accordingly. Right now, services are often very siloed. And, Busteed added, students often select a major, then take out loans to pay for it, and then look for a job, when it might make more sense to meet with a career-services officer early, firm up some job goals, and backtrack into a major that makes sense."
We're Missing 90 Percent of the Dakota Access Pipeline Story (Earth Justice): "I saw that this assembly of indigenous tribes and supporters is among the most serene and peaceful groups of people I have been around. They are not unified by indignity. What unifies the thousands of water protectors who are bracing for the incoming winter is devotion and prayer. In fact, elders and tribal leaders told us repeatedly that tribal camps aren’t protests; these are ceremonies being held at a sacred place. And, they told us, they expect the behavior of their brothers and sisters to reflect that."
Why I Left White Nationalism (The New York Times): "Most of Mr. Trump’s supporters did not intend to attack our most vulnerable citizens. But with him in office we have a duty to protect those who are threatened by this administration and to win over those who don’t recognize the impact of their vote. Even those on the furthest extreme of the white nationalist spectrum don’t recognize themselves doing harm — I know that because it was easy for me, too, to deny it."
The Lenny Interview: Zadie Smith (Lenny Letter): "I am resistant to a lot of the Internet, not because I disapprove but because the feelings I personally draw from it seem to me shallow and don't lead me anywhere useful or pleasurable. A lot of the social platforms provoke feelings in me I simply don't enjoy. For a moment I am flattered, falsely puffed up, briefly amused, painfully hurt, or infuriated. I accept it feels different for other people, but I have to gravitate to the things that really interest and excite me while I'm alive."
How to Deal With the Lies of Donald Trump: Guidelines for the Media (The Atlantic): "On a single day during the campaign, Trump claimed that the National Football League had sent him a letter complaining that the presidential-debate schedule conflicted with NFL games (which the NFL immediately denied), and then he said the Koch brothers had begged him to accept their donations (which they also flat-out denied). Most people would hesitate before telling easily disprovable lies like these, much as shoplifters would hesitate if the store owner is looking at them. Most people are fazed if caught in an outright lie. But in these cases and others, Trump never blinked. As part of his indispensable campaign coverage this summer, David Fahrenthold (and Robert O’Harrow) of The Washington Post offered astonishing documentation of Trump being caught in a long string of business-related lies and simply not caring. The news media are not built for someone like this."
Utah lawyers step up to protect Muslim refugees from discrimination, threats (The Salt Lake Tribune): "Since Donald Trump was elected president, Muslim refugees in Utah report increased bullying in schools, harassment at work, menacing by strangers and threats to pull off girls' hijabs, their religious headscarves. So on Tuesday, 50 attorneys announced that they have formed the new Refugee Justice League of Utah. Without fees, it will seek to prevent or remedy harassment and, as a last resort, sue in court — even the president-elect if he pursues proposals to create a registry of Muslims. Utah refugees 'need to know that they have friends who are willing to help them,' said Jim McConkie, a civil-rights attorney and founding member of the league."
Tuesday, October 4, 2016
My son is three, and I hereby take back every judgmental thought I've had about parents who say "Because I said so."
He's asking "Why?" so often these days, reflexively and always in response to my requests that he stop doing something.
Why?
Because I survived on grapes and Saltines for the first three months you lived inside of me, and I gave you proteins from my very own body so that you could make yours, and I labored to release you into this world for 27 hours before my abdomen was cut open (leaving a scar that remains to this day), and my belly and navel will never look the same again because your growing limbs stretched them to their limit. Because my body has already done so much for you, I kindly request that you stop hitting my leg in time with the music of Daniel Tiger's Neighborhood.
Why?
Because my full-time job is giving you food, helping you to the bathroom, reading you stories, building block towers to your detailed specifications, taking you to the park, and dressing you even when a shirt going over your head is the most terrifying thing that's ever happened. Because I devote far more than eight hours a day to your happiness and well-being, it would be great if you could let me eat this turkey sandwich in peace.
Why?
Because I've had an uninterrupted night's sleep exactly zero times since your little sister was born twelve weeks ago, and because your sleep schedule has continued unaltered, I think you really owe it to me to stop crashing your scooter into the wall and watch Finding Nemo quietly while I power nap for the next fifteen minutes.
I try to be supportive of other parents I come across, knowing that we're each fighting a hard and unique battle with hard and unique kids, but I admit that the phrase "Because I said so" always seemed lazy to me, such a substandard way of addressing your child's attempts to understand this confusing world of rules and expectations. It's still not an expression I enjoy, and I'll use it as little as I can manage. But I think I'm understanding more why a parent might whip out that old standby answer. It's basically shorthand for "I have done everything for you and cared for you in a manner that has completely unraveled my world and put it back together again in a beautiful, exhausting shape; can you not just do as I say in this moment and please stop hitting your toy trains together a mere three inches from my face?"
He's asking "Why?" so often these days, reflexively and always in response to my requests that he stop doing something.
Why?
Because I survived on grapes and Saltines for the first three months you lived inside of me, and I gave you proteins from my very own body so that you could make yours, and I labored to release you into this world for 27 hours before my abdomen was cut open (leaving a scar that remains to this day), and my belly and navel will never look the same again because your growing limbs stretched them to their limit. Because my body has already done so much for you, I kindly request that you stop hitting my leg in time with the music of Daniel Tiger's Neighborhood.
Why?
Because my full-time job is giving you food, helping you to the bathroom, reading you stories, building block towers to your detailed specifications, taking you to the park, and dressing you even when a shirt going over your head is the most terrifying thing that's ever happened. Because I devote far more than eight hours a day to your happiness and well-being, it would be great if you could let me eat this turkey sandwich in peace.
Why?
Because I've had an uninterrupted night's sleep exactly zero times since your little sister was born twelve weeks ago, and because your sleep schedule has continued unaltered, I think you really owe it to me to stop crashing your scooter into the wall and watch Finding Nemo quietly while I power nap for the next fifteen minutes.
I try to be supportive of other parents I come across, knowing that we're each fighting a hard and unique battle with hard and unique kids, but I admit that the phrase "Because I said so" always seemed lazy to me, such a substandard way of addressing your child's attempts to understand this confusing world of rules and expectations. It's still not an expression I enjoy, and I'll use it as little as I can manage. But I think I'm understanding more why a parent might whip out that old standby answer. It's basically shorthand for "I have done everything for you and cared for you in a manner that has completely unraveled my world and put it back together again in a beautiful, exhausting shape; can you not just do as I say in this moment and please stop hitting your toy trains together a mere three inches from my face?"
Monday, May 16, 2016
A good friend of mine is pregnant right now with her first baby, just as I'm pregnant with my second. She's six weeks ahead of me gestation-wise. Yesterday was her (very fancy and photogenic!) baby shower; her sister-in-law made tiny succulent pots for everyone to take home as party favors.
Ever since I've been well enough in this pregnancy to think about what events I might want to plan to celebrate it, I've felt ambivalent about my options. Ambivalent about doing anything at all, actually. With two months until my due date, I think I've settled on just indulging this impulse toward solitude and reclusiveness. It feels weird, kind of inappropriate, but it's what I'm going with. As much as I usually thrive on friendship, sisterhood, bonding experiences, and so forth, my gut's telling me to lay low and withdraw from a lot of that right now. Maybe after my girl is born I'll feel differently, and there will be opportunities then to plan some kind of get-together. Or maybe I won't want to do that stuff even then. We'll see.
Preparing for this birth has been monumentally different from preparing for my first birth three years ago. I was ravenous for information back then, seeking out birth stories and birth videos and different approaches to pain management and all kinds of stuff in that vein. But this time, all my birth books have been gathering dust. It's easy to superficially blame the difference on being busier this time around than I was during my first pregnancy; the fact of that is true, but that's not really it at all. I'm more nervous about labor and birth (and the postpartum upheaval) than I was my first time through it. I haven't known how to acknowledge that fear, or process it, or eliminate it, so I've kind of ignored it and hoped for some outside intervention to help me make sense of it.
Last night, I cracked open my favorite book about birth, Birthing from Within. In the first chapter, expecting mothers are asked to find their question. "For each woman, the most important thing she needs to know will be different. I would encourage a mother to ask herself, 'What is it I need to know to give birth?' Her answer must be found within, not given to her by an expert. Each mother needs to find her personal, heartfelt question."
Continuing: "Knowing your personal question is central to birth preparation. Whatever your question is, leave no stone unturned: ask your question often and look at it from every angle until your conscious mind is exhausted, and your heart is receptive to answers. Don't limit yourself to a superficial question like, 'What should I expect ...?' If someone else can answer your question -- you're not going deep enough."
I pondered on this idea last night. My first idea was the question How am I going to do this??? With multiple question marks, for sure. Not the most precise question out there, but hey, it's honest. And it's urgent -- this question has no chill.
To make it a little more productive, I've rephrased the How am I going to do this??? question to instead be How am I going to feel safe in labor and birth and afterwards? I think that's the heart of my question and, also, my nervousness about the whole prospect of my second birth. The fact is that I'm not feeling safe. Part of that comes from memories of my son's birth, which was going so so well until it wasn't. I think the bigger thing though, honestly, is that I'm giving birth in a hospital this time around, and no part of me wants to be doing that. It's the only thing that will work financially, so I'm doing it, but other than the money aspect, there's not a single pro I can add to the pro/con list. It's just not what I want.
So my question is this: How am I going to feel safe in labor and birth and afterwards? What can I do?
Ever since I've been well enough in this pregnancy to think about what events I might want to plan to celebrate it, I've felt ambivalent about my options. Ambivalent about doing anything at all, actually. With two months until my due date, I think I've settled on just indulging this impulse toward solitude and reclusiveness. It feels weird, kind of inappropriate, but it's what I'm going with. As much as I usually thrive on friendship, sisterhood, bonding experiences, and so forth, my gut's telling me to lay low and withdraw from a lot of that right now. Maybe after my girl is born I'll feel differently, and there will be opportunities then to plan some kind of get-together. Or maybe I won't want to do that stuff even then. We'll see.
Preparing for this birth has been monumentally different from preparing for my first birth three years ago. I was ravenous for information back then, seeking out birth stories and birth videos and different approaches to pain management and all kinds of stuff in that vein. But this time, all my birth books have been gathering dust. It's easy to superficially blame the difference on being busier this time around than I was during my first pregnancy; the fact of that is true, but that's not really it at all. I'm more nervous about labor and birth (and the postpartum upheaval) than I was my first time through it. I haven't known how to acknowledge that fear, or process it, or eliminate it, so I've kind of ignored it and hoped for some outside intervention to help me make sense of it.
Last night, I cracked open my favorite book about birth, Birthing from Within. In the first chapter, expecting mothers are asked to find their question. "For each woman, the most important thing she needs to know will be different. I would encourage a mother to ask herself, 'What is it I need to know to give birth?' Her answer must be found within, not given to her by an expert. Each mother needs to find her personal, heartfelt question."
Continuing: "Knowing your personal question is central to birth preparation. Whatever your question is, leave no stone unturned: ask your question often and look at it from every angle until your conscious mind is exhausted, and your heart is receptive to answers. Don't limit yourself to a superficial question like, 'What should I expect ...?' If someone else can answer your question -- you're not going deep enough."
I pondered on this idea last night. My first idea was the question How am I going to do this??? With multiple question marks, for sure. Not the most precise question out there, but hey, it's honest. And it's urgent -- this question has no chill.
To make it a little more productive, I've rephrased the How am I going to do this??? question to instead be How am I going to feel safe in labor and birth and afterwards? I think that's the heart of my question and, also, my nervousness about the whole prospect of my second birth. The fact is that I'm not feeling safe. Part of that comes from memories of my son's birth, which was going so so well until it wasn't. I think the bigger thing though, honestly, is that I'm giving birth in a hospital this time around, and no part of me wants to be doing that. It's the only thing that will work financially, so I'm doing it, but other than the money aspect, there's not a single pro I can add to the pro/con list. It's just not what I want.
So my question is this: How am I going to feel safe in labor and birth and afterwards? What can I do?
Monday, March 28, 2016
My first "blog" type thing was the one that came with my MySpace account. I started writing in it during the summer of 2005, right after I'd graduated from high school, musing about my brief first romance (SS+KB, rest in peace) and my job at the family catering company and my expectations for college. And I just wrote these little posts, these ridiculous and embarrassing little posts, with primitive emojis. I couldn't know how cringe-inducing those posts would be someday, but the point was just that I had things on my mind and I had a place to write those things down while simultaneously sharing them with my curated group of MySpace friends. There was something about that combo -- the self-reflection + mild publicity -- that really appealed to me, and for the few years that I stayed with MySpace and wrote my assorted posts, that blog became the most consistent record of my life that I've ever kept.
Concurrent with and then following the MySpace days, I'm sure I've started ten to fifty other blogs. Most of them are completely lost from my memory now; I have no idea what I called them or what I thought I'd use them for. But, you know, that writing impulse was still there. It's always been there for me, in some iteration, and there are rare moments in my life when said impulse wins out over laziness and forgetfulness. Most notably, I had a daily style blog for a while *more cringe, more cringe* and I've contributed pretty faithfully to a group blog for the past two years and change.
This blog -- skish -- is something I think about waaaaaay more than one could surmise from looking at the post frequency. I think about what goals I have with it, how to structure it in the future, what topics to focus on, what vibe I want it to have, how I can find the time to write and pre-write and promote and network (and do I even want to network? me, the all-time introvert?). I get it all worked out in my brain, and then the follow-through is crap. And that gets me to wondering, does a blog (this blog) need to be something polished and branded? Does it need to be that way in order to have merit? Does it need to be that way for me to feel like I'm doing it right?
I don't remotely have the expertise to wax poetic about how blogging has changed over the past however many years. It has, obviously, but other people who are more well-equipped to talk about that change and who witnessed it up close have written a whole lotta stuff about how that transpired and what it means and what it says. My experience of being a blog reader has been really inspiring at times, very aspirational (in a good way). Putting together a solid blog, with a vision and valuable content and beautiful images, is a lot of work, and I benefit from that work as a reader. Don't change, professional/highly-skilled-amateur bloggers. You do you. But is that the approach for me?
I'm not tidy or polished. Just look at my hair on literally any day of the year -- it is messy, and that messiness is an accurate outer reflection of my inner world. Honestly, I like it that way. Somehow, though, I feel like my unkempt way of writing and planning and being in the world isn't quite ... right ... in terms of how blogs operate now. This isn't my random MySpace page anymore, is it? I mean, I spent $10 of good PayPal money for my blog theme, I've can't just spew whatever random thoughts all over it. (Note to future Sara: in case you're note sure, that last sentence was sarcastic, yes.)
My Monday night navel-gazing is making it super clear that I'm being a weirdo about this. Geez louise, lady, you don't need a business plan or a posting schedule -- just write what you feel like and relax. It's allowed. There are no blog police out there waiting to slap you with a citation. Write about the way the baby in your belly makes weird swimming motions that are very unsettling as you try to fall asleep at night. Write about the latest episode of "Girls" and how amazing it was (because it so was). Write about sex, write about the artificial Christmas tree parts you just inherited from your sister-in-law, write about extended family gatherings and how you feel like such a misfit, write about how you have a theft problem in your neighborhood and you imagine a roving band of burglars haunting the streets at night. It's fine. And maybe the blog will morph over time into something more focused, and maybe not, but you'll be writing. You'll be recording your life, and that was the point of all of it.
Concurrent with and then following the MySpace days, I'm sure I've started ten to fifty other blogs. Most of them are completely lost from my memory now; I have no idea what I called them or what I thought I'd use them for. But, you know, that writing impulse was still there. It's always been there for me, in some iteration, and there are rare moments in my life when said impulse wins out over laziness and forgetfulness. Most notably, I had a daily style blog for a while *more cringe, more cringe* and I've contributed pretty faithfully to a group blog for the past two years and change.
This blog -- skish -- is something I think about waaaaaay more than one could surmise from looking at the post frequency. I think about what goals I have with it, how to structure it in the future, what topics to focus on, what vibe I want it to have, how I can find the time to write and pre-write and promote and network (and do I even want to network? me, the all-time introvert?). I get it all worked out in my brain, and then the follow-through is crap. And that gets me to wondering, does a blog (this blog) need to be something polished and branded? Does it need to be that way in order to have merit? Does it need to be that way for me to feel like I'm doing it right?
I don't remotely have the expertise to wax poetic about how blogging has changed over the past however many years. It has, obviously, but other people who are more well-equipped to talk about that change and who witnessed it up close have written a whole lotta stuff about how that transpired and what it means and what it says. My experience of being a blog reader has been really inspiring at times, very aspirational (in a good way). Putting together a solid blog, with a vision and valuable content and beautiful images, is a lot of work, and I benefit from that work as a reader. Don't change, professional/highly-skilled-amateur bloggers. You do you. But is that the approach for me?
I'm not tidy or polished. Just look at my hair on literally any day of the year -- it is messy, and that messiness is an accurate outer reflection of my inner world. Honestly, I like it that way. Somehow, though, I feel like my unkempt way of writing and planning and being in the world isn't quite ... right ... in terms of how blogs operate now. This isn't my random MySpace page anymore, is it? I mean, I spent $10 of good PayPal money for my blog theme, I've can't just spew whatever random thoughts all over it. (Note to future Sara: in case you're note sure, that last sentence was sarcastic, yes.)
My Monday night navel-gazing is making it super clear that I'm being a weirdo about this. Geez louise, lady, you don't need a business plan or a posting schedule -- just write what you feel like and relax. It's allowed. There are no blog police out there waiting to slap you with a citation. Write about the way the baby in your belly makes weird swimming motions that are very unsettling as you try to fall asleep at night. Write about the latest episode of "Girls" and how amazing it was (because it so was). Write about sex, write about the artificial Christmas tree parts you just inherited from your sister-in-law, write about extended family gatherings and how you feel like such a misfit, write about how you have a theft problem in your neighborhood and you imagine a roving band of burglars haunting the streets at night. It's fine. And maybe the blog will morph over time into something more focused, and maybe not, but you'll be writing. You'll be recording your life, and that was the point of all of it.
Friday, February 12, 2016
This song was released in 2007, but weirdly enough, I associate it with a time (and a relationship) that came before that. I don't know how that happened. Did some wires get crossed in my head? But there it is -- one of my favorite songs, connected with a period in my life when I never heard it.
"The Story" is fantastic and timeless. Pretty sure I'll be listening to it still in 30 years and singing along just as loud.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
