Good times, for a change
As the entire internet is currently a Festival of Triggers for most women (and sure, some men) right now, I’m glad we have this safe space in which to hide. My newsletter/blanket fort is big enough for all of us, my friends. Who's bringing the bourbon?
STUFF I DID OR MADE
League of Awkward Unicorns, Episode 19: What’s the right amount of crying?
In which Deanna and I discuss an unsettling (and unhealthy) tendency to police our emotions. Also, we have merchandise! And a Patreon page, in case you want to support our podcasting tendencies!
OTHER PEOPLE'S STUFF IS ALSO GOOD
What we write about when we’re not writing
When you can’t write, you write lists. To-do lists. Reading lists. Life lists. Lists of things to be repaired or fixed. Packing lists. Shopping lists. You write longhand in tight, tiny letters that you need paper towels, eggs, butter, apples, chicken breasts, and spinach. You need two half-gallons of milk, because the children are pouring themselves larger and second glasses of the stuff. You make a note of that. Two half-gallons. Write the number two in parentheses, next to the word “milk.”
You don’t write about the fact that your children are growing older, becoming gangly-limbed strangers to you — yet still so familiar when they slip into bed with you in the morning, still needing the sleepy warmth of Mommy.
Second-person narratives don’t always work, but when they do, they’re truly striking. And when they seem to actually be describing your life, you’re a little freaked out.
How Do You Write a Memoir If You’re Not Positive You Exist?
I want this Tina phenomenon to be good. I know I want that. I know that if I have a hope for this airy conglomeration, it’s that the whole be experienceable as having an obvious quality of goodness, a winning quality that’ll spare me from moment-to-moment whatever version of the executioner’s axe is on deck. Spare me. Spare me your wrath, wrathful being. Spare the ostracism, crowd. Don’t say no to me. Say yes, ultimately. Arrive at yes. Let me in, let me through, let me pass.
Tina Rowley is a wonder. She’s funny, insightful, and just so damn charming. Her writing always blows me away. In a just and decent universe, she’d be a bestselling author.
Inside the Well-Traveled Sketchbooks of Artist Dina Brodsky
This is straight-up sketchbook porn. And I’m not even ashamed.
Infomercial compilation set to The Smiths
I think my favorite here is the woman at :48, with the smelly sweater and/or boobs.
Haven't had a dream in a long time,
Alice