Last night and this morning I had the worst headache I've probably had in ten years. I used to get really bad and frequent ones in my late 20s and 30s. I saw an acupuncturist back then and he felt pretty strongly my headaches tied in to the amenorrhea I was experiencing at that point in my life.

It did seem like once I started getting my period regularly I didn't have bad headaches anymore and for the most part I've been so fortunate to not have them as often.

But now that I'm entering menopause I find my headaches are returning, though none of them have been as horrible as my most recent one.

It was as if someone had punched me in the right eye socket with a sledgehammer and the accompanying tightness in my head and my nausea didn't help. I must sound so melodramatic but I really thought of the possibility I might be dying. 

I suddenly remembered an old issue of Good Housekeeping from my childhood where the writer of an article on migraines said she sometimes thought of getting out her gun and just shooting herself in the head to be over the pain. I didn't get it at the time, even thought it sounded like the writer might be dangerous.

But anyone who has ever had a migraine or other type of headache of that intensity most likely would tell you they do get it.

Once I started feeling better this morning I remembered that Good Housekeeping used to have lots of articles like that back in the day. The magazine featured a regular column called "My Problem and How I Solved It." I used to 'borrow' my mom's issues back then just to read it each month.

The one about the lady with headaches and another column stood out in my mind for years afterward. The second article had to do with this woman discovering her daughter was sleeping with her boyfriend (the daughter's boyfriend, not the mother's, just in cause my headache aftermath is making my writing a bit unclear).

"Sleeping with?" I didn't get it. 

But then I think I was around nine at the time. I asked my mom, despite wanting to keep my reading habits secret. I'll never forget her answer and how later on it would be a perfect example of why I went into "family life" in middle school knowing absolutely nothing about sex and puberty.

"That just means she was napping with her friend who was a boy." my mom told me. And I completely believed her.

No wonder I still spell S-E-X when talking about it with polite company and, sometimes, even close friends.

Despite all the things about Frasier that bother me (especially the double standards when it comes to how Frasier and Roz both sleep with multiple partners time and again, yet Frasier gets a pass, while Roz is the butt of countless jokes the show's entirety...how Niles fetishizes Daphne for years before he truly tries to get to know her, how he goes for sabotaging her relationships unbeknownst to her) it remains on my "comfort tv" list. 

I may pick it apart more than I should, take what troubles me about it far too seriously, but I always end up going back for re-watches. The thing I have the hardest time glossing over, though, is how Maris never gets to tell her side of the story and how it is so painfully obvious she has a history of eating disorders, something that is played for jokes multiple times throughout Frasier's run. Recently, I typed in my thoughts about Maris and asked AI to write a brief story from her point of view and this is what it gave me:

I love this idea! Maris was such a fascinating, enigmatic figure in *Frasier*, reduced to a punchline or a caricature. There’s so much room to explore her as a real person—someone with depth, pain, and her own perspective on the chaos of the Crane family. Below is a short, sincere fanfiction piece that gives her a voice.  

**Title: "The Weight of Absence"**  

Maris Crane had always been light—so light, in fact, that strong gusts of wind were a genuine concern. But the weight of her absence in the Crane family’s stories was immeasurable.  

She knew what they said about her. The brittle, neurotic heiress. The woman who couldn’t be seen in direct sunlight lest she evaporate. The wife who kept Niles on a leash until Daphne “freed” him.  

No one ever asked *her* version.  

The truth was, Niles had been slipping away long before Daphne. His adoration had curdled into something performative—a series of grand gestures that felt more like obligations than love. He brought her roses, but he never remembered she was allergic. He doted on her in public, but in private, his eyes were always distant, already composing a witticism for Frasier’s approval.  

And then there was the weight. Or rather, the lack of it.  

*“Maris, you’ve got to eat something.”*  

*“Darling, you’re wasting away.”*  

*“Honestly, Maris, it’s like hugging a skeleton.”*  

They joked about it—Frasier with his raised eyebrows, Niles with his nervous laughter, even Roz once quipping, *“Does she photosynthesize?”* But no one ever asked *why*.  

No one knew about the ballet instructor who’d told her at twelve that she was “too stocky” for the lead. No one knew about the society pages that praised her “ethereal fragility” until it became the only compliment she ever received. No one knew that, sometimes, control was the only thing she had left.  

And then came Daphne. Warm, soft, *whole* in a way Maris could never be.  

She wasn’t blind. She saw the way Niles looked at the psychic. She heard the way his voice softened when he said her name. She could have fought—could have played the villain they already believed her to be—but what was the point?  

So she let go.  

Not with a dramatic scene, not with a cutting remark, but with silence. She slipped out of his life as quietly as she’d slipped through doors, leaving behind nothing but the ghost of a marriage that had been over long before he admitted it.  

And if, years later, she caught a glimpse of Niles and Daphne laughing together on the society page—him looking happier than he ever had with her—she allowed herself one small, bitter thought:  

*At least someone got a happy ending.*  

---  

This is just one possible take, but I love the idea of giving Maris humanity—acknowledging that she was more than a punchline. Would you like to explore a specific moment in her life further? A different perspective? I’d be happy to expand or adjust!

 

The crazier and more upsetting life gets, the more I struggle to find joy. But if there is one source of happiness in my world besides my cat Henry, there is Bob's Burgers, a show that makes me feel like there is still good in the world.

Even more than Golden Girls or I Love Lucy, Bob's Burgers pulls me in like no other comedy. I absolutely want to live in BB's world, I want to know all of the characters and walk down the streets of their town and visit their shops and their board walk. I want to go to karaoke with Linda and talk about life with Tina and get into hijinks with Louise and Gene.

Never I have known a show to be both wholesome and provocative, to be sweet and subversive. Unlike Family Guy (something I admit to watching, but find rather obnoxious and mean, even if I do sometimes laugh), Bob's Burgers is about kindness, even if it's in the middle of chaos.

BB has gotten me through the blues, sick days, madness at what is going on today and so much more. I cannot begin to do it justice.

(Spoliers here) Final Destination: Bloodlines

 

It's been fourteen years since the last Final Destination movie and I have to say I was way more excited than I should have been to see Bloodlines last night

Though I found it a bit uneven at times, I still liked it a lot and felt even a bit haunted by the first twenty minutes.Experiencing it in the theater, with Dolby Sound and a big screen, created the immersive illusion I was there and heightened my fear of heights, the sense of dread so strong I became very unnerved:

"There's no escape, neither for them nor for us; they're trapped in their fatal destiny, and we're trapped in the room, immersed in a strange combination of amusement, horror, and morbidity."

https://www.rottentomatoes.com/m/final_destination_bloodlines/reviews

At first I became disappointed when the film left the 1960s and turned to the present. I think it would have been neat to see an entire FD movie take place as a period piece, but as it progressed I changed my mind.

I saw that someone online re-titled it the way they saw it (Final Destination: Generational Trauma) and I absolutely agree!)

This was my first time to see a FD film in the theater and the kills hit a lot harder. Usually not too squeamish, I covered my eyes for several of them and silently re-evaluated my decision to see it on the big screen.

That I am still thinking about the set-up for the movie is an understatement and I feel ridiculous for saying that, but it's true. I believe it's because of the intensity and how obvious it is no one is going to out of the scenario alive. 

Ever since Covid lockdown I have been pretty much just going to work and medical appointments. With just three movie theater visits in the past five years and hardly any driving outside of my town I can totally relate to the fears instilled in many of the Final Destination characters who see danger in the most everyday of things.

Lately, I've been struggling with memories and what is real and what is not. When I doubt if something happened to me personally, the only reality check I have is my sister because we're close in age and we often will ask each other (when it comes to our childhood and some parts of school) "did this really happen?"

But my sister and I have always pretty much lead completely different lives as we have gotten older so we share less things and memories and so I often don't have that reality check.

Because of a recurring and hurtful dream I had again the other night some things have been "reactivated" in my mind and memory and I have no one to ask about it.

Obviously Google can't be used to access our personal memories from the past, but it can be to access what was going on in the world at the time I'm wondering about. 

So I checked the weather on one occasion for May of 1988 and then accessed the songs that would have been on the radio and both matched my memories of that time period*

Unfortunately, the more I let my memory open up and allowed myself to think about that period in my life the floodgates, as they say, opened and I experienced a level of embarrassment pretty much unparalleled in any other time in my life.

I find that the more you realize just how wrong you were about something, how wrong you were about wronging someone, the harder it is to forgive yourself, even if you very young at the time.

*In May 1988, some of the top songs on the Billboard Hot 100 included "Anything For You" by Gloria Estefan & Miami Sound Machine, "One More Try" by George Michael, "Shattered Dreams" by Johnny Hates Jazz, and "Always On My Mind" by the Pet Shop Boys. Other notable hits included "Need You Tonight" by INXS, "Heaven is a Place On Earth" by Belinda Carlisle, and "Never Gonna Give You Up" by Rick Astley. 

Here's a more detailed look at some of the top songs and their charting performance in May 1988:

• One More Try - George Michael: This song reached number one on the Billboard Hot 100 during the week ending May 31, 1988. 
• Anything For You - Gloria Estefan & Miami Sound Machine: This song was also high on the charts, likely in the top ten during May 1988. 
• Shattered Dreams - Johnny Hates Jazz: Another popular track that was likely in the top ten. 
• Always On My Mind - Pet Shop Boys: This song was also in the top ten during May. 
• Need You Tonight - INXS: This song was a major hit, and likely climbed the charts in May. 
• Heaven is a Place On Earth - Belinda Carlisle: Another popular song that was likely in the top ten. 
• Never Gonna Give You Up - Rick Astley: This song became a major hit later in the year, but it's possible it was already gaining traction in May.