Cerebral

Hi Darling Ones,

Did you miss me terribly?

Having my family here was delightful and exhausting. They left yesterday morning and I’m still recovering. The only things I’ve managed to do since this weekend is eat, sleep, read, and listen to Lucy Dacus’ new record Home Video.

My actual record hasn’t arrived yet even though it allegedly shipped on June 21st, and I’m a little salty. According to Instagram I’m the only person on the planet who has not gotten it yet.

It takes me a really long time to properly absorb a record. I’m not one of those people who can form a coherent opinion after listening to a record only once or twice. About the only opinion I form upon first listen is if I want to listen to it again. So that’s something.

My hunch is I’m going to love this one and it will replace Liz Phair’s Soberish as the record I need to listen to every day at least once. Right now I’ve got a giant crush on the song “Brando” which reminds me of a conversation Sister #4 and I had six or so years ago.

She was dating some guy who might have been named Tony. I had recently been decimated & humiliated by the Young Chef. She was telling me all the things she liked about the guy. He was ambitious, kind of looked like Paul Bunyan, was getting his master or PhD in something I can’t remember.

“What I really like,” she said as we were driving back to Supergenis HQ from some cousin’s bridal shower, “is that he tells me all the time that I’m smart.”

I was driving Ruby at the time, but my face must have said something out loud.

“What?” she asked. “I’m smart! Not as smart as you, but I’m smart!”

For the record, at the time, she was in the process of getting her masters degree or her PhD. I can’t remember.

“I know you’re smart,” I said.
“Then what is it?” She asked.
“I just much rather be told I’m pretty.”
“WHAT?” She screeched. For real, she screeched.
“Yeah.”
“That surprises me,” she said.
I shrugged. “I know I’m smart. I don’t need anyone to tell me that. But I rarely get told I’m pretty.”

The conversation moved on to something else as it often does, but that portion always sticks with me since it tells you so much about each of us in the simplest way.

Whenever the would it have killed you to call me pretty instead line comes up in “Brando” I chuckle a little. It not only reminds me of that conversation with my sister, but every man who told me I was smart. Or scary smart. Or too smart. And the silent “no duh” I said inside my head whenever they said that to me.

I feel a little creaky with the writing like the Tin Man after Dorothy finds him. Tomorrow will be better. I have so much to tell you about last week.

It’s good to be back here,
Jodi

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