Fortunately for me this week I show up here on a Thursday which gives me the perfect excuse to freestyle. It’s ideal timing because my brain needs an outlet—it seems to be freestyling on the regular, fueled by the wicked and wild ways of the world in which we live.
Away we go!
I’m still riding the high of an action-packed, family-filled weekend. My sister and niece flew in from MI to visit their daughter/sister/my niece who goes to school in Boston. From start to finish we had a blast—coffee, shopping, lunch, dinner, more dinner, an NU hockey game, breakfast and football (Jesus Christ, do the Pats stink or what?), and capping it all off with pizza at Denly’s with the crew before dropping my niece at Logan and my sis at the hotel (she’s here for work this week). Only downside to all of it was that one niece was away for the weekend…even so it was nice to have 4 of the 5 “kids” together…and my mom was still in FL, dealing with an intense case of FOMO. We missed her, but the 15.9K steps on Friday and 16.7K steps on Saturday might have been a bit much for her.
I also got to pay my first visit to an actual Blundstone store. It was a semi-religious experience, relatively speaking, for someone who has been wearing them for some 20+ years. You know me, ever the trendsetter. First the Birkenstocks, then the Blundstones. I’m a woman perpetually ahead of her time, yet somehow perpetually behind them…😂😂
Since I mentioned the Pats stinking, well, let’s talk about them for a second. I was a believer in Mac Jones, but no more. I don’t think the 2-8 record is all on him, but his play has been underwhelming, to put it mildly. But this is a game and Mac is a person. So let’s also try not to make more of this than it is, and not pile more on Mac than is necessary—no need to get nasty. Armchair and Monday morning quarterbacking are fine, but beyond that, lay off. It’s a game…and for all intents and purposes the people who play are kids. Repeat: no need to get nasty. That said, I don’t think that if you surrounded him with one of the glory days teams (the ones with TB12 at the helm) he’d be successful as the GOAT was. He’s just not that good. Speaking of Tommy Boy, can we finally end the debate of whether the Pats were awesome because of Bill or because of Tom? No question—it was Tom! Love him or hate him, his discipline and commitment day in and day out proved that champions are made, not born. Unless you’re a nepo baby…but I’m not up for talking about that right now.
You know what else stinks? The 2024 Presidential Campaign. Not that I’m really up to talking about it either, but here we are. Tim Scott recently suspended his run, though it didn’t come as much of a surprise. First to drop out was Francis Suarez (who?), then Steve Laffey (who?), then Will Hurd (who?), then Mike Pence (no chance!)…now Tim Scott (also no chance!)…the dominoes are falling in relative slo-mo now, but the pace will undoubtedly pick up like a multi-car pileup on a “snow covered” (.25” 🤣) highway in Tennessee as people began to grasp the unthinkable yet wholly unsurprising (yet completely befuddling and infuriating) fact that The Cheeto, with all his vitriol and vile, actually has an insurmountable lead. I legit can’t get my head around the fact that he has such a rabid fan base…it’s past the point where supporting Trump is “ok” because you “gotta support the party.” It’s not political anymore. The guy is anti-democracy, anti-government, anti-empathy, and anti-humanity. Whether Joe Biden is old or senile or unqualified is a completely separate discussion. I hope Tim Scott didn’t drop out in fear of his confirmed bachelorhood being further explored/investigated (*wink*). Every time I think about next November, the contents of my stomach begin traveling upward. My gag reflex is getting a very unwelcome workout.
While I’m on the ugly topic of ugly politics, and whether or not Tim Scott likes men (who cares, FFS?) let’s talk about that new Speaker o’ the House, Mike Johnson. First of all I don’t think it’s a small coincidence that he bears an uncanny resemblance to Roger Bart, the actor who plays villain after villain on TV. Or is it just me?
And Mikey and his wife share some pretty barbaric views. (He and his wife are the “people” he refers to):
He’s a real doozy. And apparently his wife is pro-conversion therapy so I’m gonna assume Mike is too. All I can say to them is I think they should sit quietly and take seven minutes to listen to this song, right now:
The right-wing conservatives think it's a decision
And you can be cured with some treatment and religion
Man-made rewiring of a pre-disposition
Playing God, aw nah here we go
America the brave still fears what we don't know
And "God loves all his children" is somehow forgotten
But we paraphrase a book written thirty-five hundred years ago
I don't knowSeriously.
No one should have to live in fear because of who they are.
But alas here we are.
A couple weeks ago I introduced you this guy in Item #7 and it’s probably no surprise that the guy who thinks no one can see him brush his (thinning) hair in public also thinks no one knows anything…so it’s also probably no surprise that he knows everything. One of the things he told me is that the that color green has the most variations in shade visible to the human eye. I buy it…but I also feel like in my life I still regularly see shades of blue for the very first time. The greens may have more variation, but the blues stir my soul. Probably why my fave walk gets me every time. The greens eventually give way to golds and then to brows, but the blues persist…maybe I like the tenacity of the blues. 🤷♀️
When I was walking there most recently, this song came on one of my curated by Spotify for me playlists, and the vibe collided with my soul in an explosion of sheer bliss.
As Morcheeba semi-hauntingly sang the words “I left my soul there, down by the sea…” I had the overwhelming feeling of finding my soul there, down by the sea.
Speaking of walks, I walk midday or early afternoon so I see groups of kids a lot. Either at one of the two parks I walk through (gym class, I assume), walking home from school, or getting off the bus. Many of the groups I see are of girls, and if they were in a painting from the olden days that painting well may be called “Rude Girls in Pajamas Exiting School Buses” or some such thing…no eye contact taking up the whole sidewalk, wearing what appear to be slippers and pajama bottoms (to school—my mom wouldn’t even let us wear jeans)…in any case, in these groups of girls there always seems to be one who looks like the clear-cut mother of the group. She generally looks older a a bit fuddy-duddy. Her clothes are a bit dated, her mannerisms are off, hair a bit out of style, etc. I’ve observed this enough times that I feel comfortable making this judgment and discussing it here. 🤷♀️
Sticking to the subject of walking, what is up with that house on Middle Street that smells like a giant bong hit every time I walk by? Sometimes I think they have one over on me, other times I think “that’s no way to go through life.” Truth is, the secret probably lies somewhere in the middle. As “they” say, everything in moderation. But this line of thinking gets my wheels spinning, burning mental rubber…and the bong-hit smell is much more pleasant. I’m convinced that the secret of life lies in one’s ability to both still and satisfy the heart/soul/spirit, by any means necessary. We go through life unaware that the often fleeting or surface joy that we focus on leaves us unsatisfied at some cellular level. As I get older I grow more and more unwilling to accept that this is a necessary tradeoff…you can make a living AND make a life. The two are not mutually exclusive. And TBH I think this is what the millennials are getting at with the quiet quitting, refusal to be prisoner of an office, etc., etc. I’m not looking to sit around and make millions of dollars smoking a pipe dream but at the same time I can’t find a single valid reason to sell my soul and forsake my happiness. This shouldn’t—and can’t—be a perpetually unsolvable problem. But it is right now for me as I am obsessing over the age-old question about what to do with this one wild and precious life. Send suggestions. Please.
Speaking of exercise, my gym closed abruptly a few weeks ago, which I
criedwrote about here. I’d been going there regularly since it opened before the pandemic (July 2018 was when I started there, I think) and even kept my membership during the shutdown, joining virtual classes in the backyard or the garage. Now that a few weeks have gone by with no noon class, I realize how that activity, and that community, had grown to be such an important piece of the social fabric of my life. I miss seeing my gym friends on the regular—and now that we’re just regular friends, seeing each other is hard because, well, life. Over the last few weeks I’ve come to realize—even though I don’t know what the stages are or how many of them there are—there definitely are stages of grief when it comes to your good old gym closing. I go to Planet Fitness occasionally, but that’s more depressing than uplifting. And when it comes to going to a gym, I need someone to tell me what to do. Otherwise I’m such a lazy exerciser I’ll gain weight while I am on the elliptical.Subject change. Since my new company is headquartered in VA, my new insurance is Anthem—which is technically BCBS in MA. Because my previous insurance was BCBS, the powers that be in the medical billing area were having tremendous difficulty sorting things out between my cancelled insurance and my current insurance, thus getting my mammogram payment squared away was no small feat. I’ve been wrestling with things since July, and it’s been a colossal annoyance since—not to mention what happens to my head when someone threatens me with collections. So right now I want to give a huge shoutout to Etta from Anthem who called me Tuesday morning to let me know that everything is all set and the related claims have been reprocessed. Thanks, Etta! (You just don’t get personal service like that these days, so I appreciate it all the more. The last time we spoke was at least a month ago, so I had all but forgotten the matter. What an unexpected treat that call was.)
Subject change, take 2. Caught Mack Culkin on Celebrity Jeopardy last night (spoiler alert: he lost to Rachel Dratch by a dollar), and he looked so good. Made me happy for no specific reason, but in general because he had that rocky stretch and seems to have come out on the other side. Props to him and anyone who travels that journey. (Subtitles and not the best pic because I was at my mom’s. More on that later. But he looks good, right?)
Tuesday night on the final Knockout round of The Voice, several amazing singers got sent home…and then right before the show ended they teased the introduction of the Super Save. The talent is just that good. Next week four familiar faces will get called back, and that makes me so happy. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again—the world is full of amazingly talented people whose big dreams get snuffed by real life, so it makes my heart happy to see people get a (second) chance. And I love music, so…yay music. (I also am kind of starting to love Niall Horan but that’s a whole other thing. (He’s so cute.))
Speaking of music, when I was in between jobs I did some work on the side and decided to treat myself with some of those earnings, ultimately splurging on some AirPods Max headphones. To say I love them is an understatement. No more plastic in my ears (regular AirPods), no more wires (old Bose travel headphones), no more sound cutting in and out (old Sony Bluetooth headphones…though those were decent and have become my new travel headphones). Lately I find myself wearing them during the work day even when I am not listening to music. They drown out the ambient noise in my head and they block out the sounds of the world around me. For the most part, it’s pretty quiet here in the home office, and the occasional sign of life is welcome…but life these days is introducing a constant buzz of sorts. Maybe strange but definitely true. Plus I think this job gives me more anxiety than it should…or maybe I am simply giving it too much power. Either way, the headphones help. And there’s something about the physical weight of them (which some reviewers report as a “con”), like it’s a hug for my brain. In fact, as I type this I realize I might do well to hole up in the sensory deprivation chamber or whatever it was Aaron Rodgers went into when he was deciding about retirement. Hmmm. In any case, for me the headphones were well worth the “investment.” Oh, and when I actually use them to listen to music they sound pretty good too. You can often find me “shimmying” downstairs to put my dishes in the dishwasher or to refill my water bottle or doing whatever has me moving about. I’m guessing that if you saw me doing said shimmy, you wouldn’t in a million years be able to guess what song I was listening to. 😂 I move to my own rhythm, my own beat…regardless of what’s playing. I’m also guessing that occasionally I shimmy when no music is playing too. 🤣🤣🤣 Not unlike Popeye, I am who I am. Bottom line, noise canceling headphones all-day long FTW if blocking out literal and figurative noise helps move you to your happy place.
Also speaking of music, kind of, the other day I said, “Alexa, please turn off the coffee.” To which she promptly replied, “Playing Sarah McLachlan on Kerri’s Spotify.” So, yeah, about that speech therapy…🤦🏼♀️
Might as well stick with music for one more—the brain goes where the brain goes. XM 105 is one of the saved stations in my car because it rotates its focus and occasionally provides me with tunes I might not otherwise listen to. But I couldn’t click the switch on the steering wheel fast enough when I saw it is now the Jolly Christmas channel. I love Christmas. But I also love Thanksgiving. And I refuse to move past the Pilgrims and on to Jesus until after the turkey and stuffing has been fully digested.
Speaking of Thanksgiving, it’s next week. And since Christmas apparently is already here, before you carve the bird, carve out a little time for yourself. Take a moment to sit, to be one with your gratitude, or to find your own relatively happy place. It’s so important not to lose ourselves and what we value in all this holiday hullaballoo.
Speaking of being thankful, my mom got home yesterday morning after a month or so in FL. It was good to see her especially because I was unable to get down for a visit, given a bit of a wonky work schedule earlier this month. Anyhow, she had a really early flight (6AM…my travel-planning situation is entirely genetic!) and I knew she’d be tired last night and not feel like cooking or going out. Kerri had a deploy so she was out of the equation…making the decision easy. Meals on wheels was the way to go. I mentioned her coming home and this recipe last week, and wasted no time getting to it. I grabbed a chilled bottle of Sauv Blanc and headed over with all my ingredients, prepped to the max extent possible to minimize my work and mess at her place…I even brought my own pan (I knew it was the right size) and apron (because this oil and butter sh-t spatters!). I meant business. It was such a good night. I was so happy to see her and I think the feeling was relatively mutual…we had a lot of catching up to do, and I’m giving the night a 10/10. I’ll definitely go back. She’s the best.
Given that we won’t chat before Thanksgiving—unless you contact me offline, which I always love, and is one of the best things about this—gratitude seems like the right emotion to end with.
So, speaking of gratitude, I am, as always, grateful for you spending this time with me every week, for putting up with my ups and downs, with my obsessions and my wanderings…it’s so nice being in all of it together.
Love you too.
Thanks for your writing. Congrats on the new job and hope we cross paths soon!!
Happy Turkey!!