It’s been nearly two years since Paco died, leaving me mostly petless. Mostly, because I had every-other-weekend and all of February custody of Walter. However, that’s all changing. My sister and brother-in-law are selling their Minnesota house and he’s moving back to Portland with Walter. I have been, for the most part, devastated by this recent development. I was really hoping it’d go the other…
Welcome to the first ever Jodi Chromey Supergenius Quarterly Superlative Awards. I’m your host, Jodi Chromey. We’re hoping some day to get Maya Rudolph to do these awards because she should host all the things forever and ever throughout eternity and on every plane of existence known and unknown. Until now, you get me. I created these awards because work was kind of boring me…
Part I The Tea Ladies are a trio of women I meet up with every few months at the Tea Source in EP to talk about books and TV shows and politics. I don’t like tea. Neither does one of the Amys. However, we do like making jokes about stupid tea is and the other Amy and Anne love tea, so it’s worth it. When…
For the record, I love slow songs. I am a big fan of “old sad bastard” music, because I am frequently an old sad bastard, especially lately because 2019 is being a motherfucker to me and my people. I’m not a big fan of the term hoes. This harkens back to my dislike of the word slutty. Again, though, I do love the word bitch….
Last night I dreamt I made out with Gregory Peck as Atticus Finch on the lawn of a haunted library. He was in black and white. I’m putting way too much thought into who was the ultimate Roller Skating Snowball band: Air Supply or REO Speedwagon. I’m leaning REO. People who refuse to think of the 90s as the years 1992-1997 bother me. I recognize…
I made a yellow cake for CSA Supperclub tonight. It’s a cake out of a box and I’m kind of afraid it didn’t rise properly. I cannot remember the last time I made a cake so I don’t know what they’re supposed to look like in the pan. This one looks a little sad and flat, but it smells divine. I’m listening to Beth Orton’s…
We were on our way to Mankato to see Jason Isbell. Wolfdogg, Heather, Jaycie, and I were not really speeding down 169, but making our way. There was a lot of road construction. As we slowed down through every small town between my house and Mankato, I would sigh dreamily, “Oh, I want to live here.” Everyone in the car would quietly dismiss me and…
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…
“I am sad,” I say to Walter a few times a day. He always looks at me with his Arms of an Angel eyes, then I scratch his butt, and feel momentarily better. I keep announcing my sadness as a way to be woo-woo and sit with it, whatever that means. I am sad because a friend called me Thursday morning to say they had…
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…
