I'm on a break at work and I just checked my pet cam to look in on my cat. I do this about three times a day over an eight hour period but I am not fanatical about it. I do so because I like to make sure my cat seems okay and I miss him. 

My cat has a human name so when I talk about him and someone happens to overhear who doesn't know Henry is a cat they can get a funny Mr.Furley expression on their face.

One time I was telling someone a few years ago I couldn't get Henry to join me in bed and someone else commented "is that appropriate conversation for work?" It was much funnier in the moment than it is in talking about it now, but anyone who knows me at all knows I don't talk about sex at work, much less anywhere else.

Anyway, I love Henry as much as I would a human and there two people in my life for which this gives them great concern and a big need to tell me how misguided I am to love an animal so much.

If I am misguided, so be it. Animals, more than ever, often make better companions than a lot of humans do.

In three days it will be six weeks since I last drank wine and I'm surprised at how much I don't miss it. After all, I went for more than five years drinking it pretty much every day unless I were sick or recuperating from my broken wrist. 

Even going in the liquor store on my most indifferent days I still always felt a tiny bit of shame, the smells of the bottles hitting my nose obnoxiously even when I didn't think they were. And if I ever saw an adult accompanied with small children I would think back to my childhood, when my mom would take my sister and me with her to get wine.

I look back now as if it has been years instead of weeks without and I wonder what I was thinking and doing all that time and what I can do with the shame. I absolutely despised alcohol from an early age and never touched a drop until I was in my 40s, when I apparently began to make up for lost time.

Because my health has improved and I seem to be losing some weight, though not as much as I had hoped, I am determined to take dry January into all of 2025. I joked with some friends when Trump won that 2025 would be a terrible time to give up wine, but now I realize it really is the best time to do so. I have a feeling a lot of us are going to need all our wits about us.

In his book, The Cruelty Is the Point: Why Trump's America Endures, Adam Serwer, an award-winning journalist at The Atlantic, presents a compelling argument that the cruelty witnessed during Donald Trump's presidency is not an anomaly but a reflection of deeply entrenched dynamics in American history. Serwer's essays dissect the most devastating moments in recent memory, revealing patterns as old as the country itself.

One of the central themes of the book is that Trump is not the cause of America's issues but a symptom. This perspective is particularly relevant as we observe the ongoing political and social landscape since Trump began his second term as president The January 6 insurrection, anti-immigrant sentiment, and American authoritarianism all have historic roots that explain their continued power, with or without Trump.

Serwer's phrase "the cruelty is the point" resonates across centuries, encapsulating the intentional infliction of harm on political opponents that has become a hallmark of Trumpism. This cruelty is evident in Trump's handling of the COVID-19 pandemic, where his refusal to address the crisis adequately was seen as a racist act, sacrificing the lives of disproportionately Black and Brown workers to fuel the economy.

Since Trump's return to the presidency, his administration has continued to push policies that reflect this cruelty. From mass layoffs at the U.S. nuclear weapons agency to the controversial handling of immigration and tariffs on steel and aluminum, Trump's second term has been marked by actions that many see as harmful and divisive.

The relevance of Serwer's book today lies in its ability to connect past and present, urging readers to confront the brutal realities of American history and politics. As we navigate the complexities of Trump's second term, it becomes increasingly important to recognize the patterns of cruelty and injustice that have long been part of the American experience.

 

I just finished the first season of School Spirits and I am floored by both the plot twists and the emotions. The show is way, way, way better than I could ever capture here.

There are so many things about the show I could write about if I had the right words, but one thing I want to talk about briefly is how I see ghosts as being deeply connected to the theme of closure and the heartbreak of not finding it for decades, if ever.

One of the ghost characters deeply regrets how things ended up with the boy he loved in high school. 28 years later, he finds himself writing a letter to “the love of his life” and hopes that he can both forgive and be forgiven for things that transpired when they were students in the mid-1990s. It’s a credit to both the actors and the writing and the atmospheric feel of the scene that it is touching and heartbreaking instead of creepy.

Boy, did this hit hard, both personally and because the show is just so good at pulling on your heart strings. My own situation is completely different and obviously I’m not a ghost. But I see the theme of being haunted (by something you did years and years ago) as something that can happen to a person who is alive or not alive. It’s one reason I think having ghosts and high school connected works so well and beautifully in School Spirits.

Whether we’re invisible in high school or we’re an adult years later and are stuck on things that happened to us as teenagers, we don’t need to be an actual ghost to be haunted or haunting.

More and more lately I see laugh emojis weapon used on Facebook as hate and I just have to wonder what is wrong with people. 

It’s really disheartening to see something as seemingly harmless as the laugh emoji being used to mock and belittle others, especially when it comes to serious issues like politics and LGBTQ+ rights. 

Unfortunately, some people seem to derive satisfaction from trolling and spreading negativity. It reflects a lack of empathy and respect for others.

 

Oh my gosh, is Good Day Chocolate Calm a great way to relax. Ever since I gave up wine I’ve been trying to find another way to chill at the end of the day and I think I have found something that works.

It almost feels prescription-strength strong, kind of like the OxyContin I took last year when I broke my wrist.

 “Every one is haunted by something.”-Maddie

School Spirits(Season 1) mixes supernatural mystery with heartfelt teen drama and follows Maddie, a spirited student trapped in the afterlife at her high school. As she navigates her ghostly existence, she teams up with fellow spectral peers to unravel the mystery of her sudden disappearance, all while grappling with unresolved emotions and connections to the living world. 

The season surprises with its sharp writing, balancing suspense and emotional depth, and subverts expectations by weaving a twisty, tightly paced narrative that keeps viewers hooked. Anchored by strong performances—particularly its charismatic lead—the show explores themes of identity, loss, and resilience, delivering both spine-tingling intrigue and poignant moments.

I am pleasantly startled by just how much I love this show so far and I can’t wait to keep watching more episodes and start season two. I think one reason I like it so much is that the show speaks to a part of me that’s never quite let go of high school completely,  even though I didn’t particularly enjoy high school.

It’s funny because it also kind of ties into a book I’m currently reading: _My Best Friend’s Exorcism_ by Grady Hendrix, A wonderful ode to the 1980s, which is the time I was in high school.

 

Every year on this day of February 4th I always think of Karen Carpenter and how she left this earth too soon. It's not just any future music we lost, but also that we lost a kind and funny person and that she left this earth too soon because of the ravages of anorexia nervosa.

In  Why Karen Carpenter Matters, the author writes about something she calls “the Karen effect,” being “the capacity to make you feel something, to make you believe in a spiritual undoing and trembling beneath the polished arpeggios and vacuum-sealed harmonies.” She speaks for many fans, I am sure, in describing the distinct sound of one of the most gifted vocalists of all time.

Author Karen Tongson (named after the singer) is a Filipino-American cultural critic, writer, and queer studies scholar. In this moving and often riveting half memoir/half biography she intertwines cultural analysis and personal anecdotes, creating a rich mix of insight and emotion into the life of Karen Carpenter.

The Carpenters’ music was immensely popular in the Philippines and other parts of Asia during the 1970s and beyond. Their songs had a significant impact on Filipino culture, and Tongson grew up with a deep appreciation for their music.“To be corny is to be mawkishly old-fashioned; tiresomely simple and sentimental,” Tongson writes, explaining part of the reason of her love for Karen Carpenter, who ultimately became the tether to the Philippines.

Tongson also navigates the sensitive topic of Karen’s eating disorder with grace, shedding light on the societal pressures that contributed to Karen’s tragic struggle. She emphasizes that Karen’s story is not just one of personal struggle, but a reflection of the larger issues women faced during that era, and still to this day, a powerful reminder of the need for compassion and understanding.

One of the most striking aspects of Why Karen Carpenter Matters is its examination of the intersection of race, gender, and music. Tongson studies the ways in which Karen Carpenter’s voice transcended cultural boundaries and challenged stereotypes, making her an unexpected icon in the LGBTQ+ community. Karen’s voice, as the writer beautifully describes, became a “sonic balm” for those who found solace and identity in her music.

I have loved the Carpenters since I was a kid and find Why Karen Carpenter Matters to be one of the most authentic and soulful nonfiction reads ever, not just on Karen Carpenter, but on any person or subject. I can still feel sad when I hear a song of hers on the radio or my music streaming, but that doesn’t take away the power or comfort or loveliness of one of the most sincere voices I have ever heard in music. From all accounts written about her, from everything friends of hers have said, Karen was a fun and funny woman, sweet and a genuine person.

For more about the Carpenters:

Carpenters: The Musical Legacy is an enchanting journey through the timeless melodies of Karen and Richard Carpenter. There are lots of fascinating tidbits about recording sessions and songs chosen for albums and what Karen and Richard thought about their music and about music in general.

Lead Sister: the Story of Karen Carpenter is well-worth tracking down. A 2023 release, it takes a more artistic look at her life and how much more there was to her in her musical life than that magical voice. Karen herself once said that she thought of herself as a drummer who sang, not a singer who played the drums. I think she would like this book a lot.

I miss the tv show "Fringe" so much. I wish I had more time for fan fiction, but there never seems to be enough time for everything.

The Case of the Missing Jell-O

Walter Bishop stood in the middle of the lab, his hands on his hips, staring at the empty spot on the counter where his prized lime Jell-O had been just moments ago. His brow furrowed, and he turned to Astrid, who was typing away at her computer, oblivious to the crisis at hand.

"Astrid!" Walter exclaimed, his voice tinged with both panic and indignation. "My Jell-O is gone!"

Astrid looked up from her screen, blinking. "What do you mean, gone? Did you eat it and forget again?"

Walter shook his head vigorously. "No, no, no. I distinctly remember placing it right here, next to the centrifuge. It was a perfect specimen—wobbly, yet firm. And now it's vanished!"

Astrid suppressed a smile. Walter's obsession with Jell-O was well-documented, but this was a new level of urgency. "Okay, Walter, let's think about this logically. Did anyone else come into the lab?"

Walter tapped his chin, deep in thought. "Well, Peter was here earlier, but he left to get coffee. And Olivia stopped by to drop off some files, but she didn't seem interested in my Jell-O. Unless..." His eyes widened. "Unless it was the Observer!"

Astrid raised an eyebrow. "The Observer? Why would an Observer take your Jell-O?"

"Because they're mysterious and unpredictable!" Walter declared, pacing the lab. "They could be studying our gelatin-based desserts for their own nefarious purposes. Or perhaps they're using it as a medium for time travel! Did you know that Jell-O has unique temporal properties when exposed to certain frequencies of—"

"Walter," Astrid interrupted gently, "I think we should rule out more mundane explanations first. Maybe it just... fell?"

Walter gasped. "Fell? Astrid, this is Jell-O we're talking about, not a common pudding! It doesn't just 'fall.' It was *taken*."

Astrid sighed, realizing there was no talking Walter out of his theory. "All right, let's investigate. Where was the last place you saw it?"

Walter led her to the counter, pointing dramatically at the empty space. "Right here. And look—there's a faint residue. A clue!"

Astrid leaned in, examining the spot. Sure enough, there was a tiny smear of green gelatin. She grabbed a swab and collected the sample. "I'll run a quick analysis. Maybe we can figure out what happened."

As Astrid worked, Walter rummaged through the lab, muttering to himself. "If the Observers are involved, we'll need to prepare. I'll need more Jell-O—different flavors, different consistencies. We'll set a trap!"

Astrid chuckled softly. "Walter, I really don't think the Observers are after your dessert."

"Then explain this!" Walter held up a small, shiny object he'd found on the floor. It was a paperclip, bent into an unusual shape.

Astrid took the paperclip, studying it. "This could be anything. It doesn't necessarily mean—"

"Ah-ha!" Walter interrupted, his eyes lighting up. "It's a *symbol*. A message from the Observers. They're telling us they've taken my Jell-O as a warning. Or... or maybe it's a cry for help! What if they're trapped in a gelatinous dimension and need us to—"

"Walter," Astrid said firmly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I think I found our culprit."

She pointed to the corner of the lab, where a familiar furry creature was happily licking the remnants of lime Jell-O. It was Gene, Walter's beloved cow, who had somehow wandered into the lab unnoticed.

Walter's jaw dropped. "Gene? You ate my Jell-O?"

Gene let out a soft moo, as if to apologize.

Astrid couldn't help but laugh. "Looks like the case of the missing Jell-O has been solved. The culprit was right under our noses."

Walter sighed, his shoulders slumping. "Well, I suppose I can forgive her. But next time, Gene, ask before you help yourself to my experiments!"

As Astrid returned to her computer, shaking her head in amusement, Walter began preparing another batch of Jell-O—this time, with extra lime. After all, a scientist's work was never done.