My Specific Trigger Words

I’m ankle-deep in Tressie McMillan Cottom’s Thick: And Other Essays, which I am really enjoying despite what I’m going to say next. I AM SO ANNOYED. Or rather I’m annoyed by a handful of paragraphs in an essay about white beauty standards, body shame, and Miley Cyrus. In these paragraphs she’s talking about a high school experience and she repeatedly refers to one kid in…

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SotW: Breathe (2am)

Last week I read 90s Bitch: Media, Culture, and the Failed Promise of Gender Equality by Allison Yarrow. I kind of loved it and hated it in equal measure. I’ve been thinking about it every day since I started reading it and am still pondering what I want to say about it, because BOY DO I HAVE THINGS TO SAY. However, I haven’t gotten my…

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February’s Gonna February Until the Very Last Minute

Things went off the rails on Saturday afternoon after I got up from a not-entirely-restful nap. It was one of those naps where you wake up cranky and you just can’t shake it. That was what? Five days ago. I’ve been cranky ever since and it keeps getting progressively worse. I’ve wanted to blog all week and have only now made time for it. Tuesday…

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A Case of the Februaries

Last night I was gonna write about a song of the week, something I would have picked randomly because my brain hasn’t been singing so much since the news about Ryan Adams being an abusive dirtbag. It was probably gonna be Jeremy Messersmith’s “It’s Only Dancing,” because I listened to him a lot yesterday while I caught up on work I ignored during the week…

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I Will Commence Carving ‘Dear Chicago’ Out of My Heart

We all do it. Talking in whispers because to say it out loud might make it true. It’s kind of like a #MeToo version of a celebrity death pool. Who would really surprise you if they were outed as a misogynistic, abusive, sexually predatory dirtbag? I thought the revelations about and subsequent resignation of Al Franken threw me for a loop. Then news broke today…

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SotW: Rumbleseat

I’ve said before that when I feel especially troubled instead of praying, I sing The Beatles’ “Let it Be.” Usually, I sing it to the Gastby Lights. I am a religion of one with really strange rituals. One of the other tenets of my religion is that John Cougar Mellencamp’s music comforts the weary of mind and spirit. That has been me this past week…

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