Hi Darling Ones,

How goes it? I’m eating Dots for the first time in nearly three years and they are delicious. I’ve missed Dots. I also miss Starburst. I do not miss jellybeans because I keep an empty Talenti-pint of them in my nightstand drawer for low blood sugar purposes. And, let me tell you, nothing cures your craving for FaveReds jellybeans (RIP greenbag starburst jellybeans) like chewing them at 3 a.m., grinding sugar into your recently brushed teeth while your glucose monitor will not shut the fuck up about your impending death by low blood sugar.

ANYWAY, I miss Dots, but not more than I enjoy having a 5.4 A1C.

Orange you glad you asked? Nobody asked, but I am feeling icky about having fallen off the writing wagon. Today’s probably not the best day to write because my head is especially “strokey,” which makes focussing extra difficult. Like most of my strokiness I do things just to spite it as if this collection of annoyances has a personality.

Along with eating Dots I’m also listening to the new Amanda Shires’ album. It came out yesterday and so I’m still pondering it. The jury is still out in the Court of Spinster Opinion. One of these days I’m gonna get around to writing about The Beths’ new record because I love it so much I had to text my friend Hotrod heart eyes emojis about it.

I’ve also been listening to Stoned: Jewelry, Obsession, and How Desire Shapes the World by Aja Raden and it is fabulous. It’s my favorite kind of nonfiction — well-written, funny, and filled with news-to-me stuff. For instance did you know that emeralds are green because of Chromium? Me neither and now I love them even more.

Most of my time, though, is spent pondering what I’m going to do with the rest of my life if/when I get on the dole. What will I do if I don’t use my brain capacity worrying about money and my time trying to earn money? I’m not sure. In the before I’d just write and write and write some more. It’s what I’ve always longed for the time and freedom to write. Now that I might get that, writing is physically taxing. My Floppy Scoop and eyes are not fans of the typing and reading. I’ve certainly been cursed with be careful what you wish for. Or so it seems.

Floudneringly yours,
Jodi

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Hola Darling Ones,

I’m becoming the kind of person who says “hola” in greeting. I say it about 93 times a day. Each time a cat comes down the stairs I say, “Hola, Gatito/Gatita. I love you. You’re a cat!”

They often need reminders both that I love them and that they’re cats. I don’t want them to forget, especially because Fergus’ theme song is about her being the worst.

In my head it’s a Gidgetesque song. A Jodi & Fergus duet that goes like this:
Whose the worst cat in the whole wide world?
It’s Fergus!
That’s me! (and she says this with one of her furry paws in the air, toe beans on display)

Who’s a total delight while she’s ruining your life?
It’s Fergus!
That’s me!

She’s a menace to her father.
A menace to her brother.
A menace to every one who loves her.
It’s Fergus!
That’s me!

See? We have fun!

Anyway, I came here to write a few words of appreciation. I didn’t appreciate anything in March and I feel a little shitty about that. Not because anyone cares, but because I let myself down by not doing it. I’ve lost or am redefining so much of who I am that it feels icky when I don’t write.

The Antidote by Karen Russell

My favorite novel so far this year. Five stars! Inventive and smart, though I have a few reservations about it.

It’s about a Prairie Witch in dust bowl era Nebraska who is a vault for people’s memories. They deposit them into her and get a deposit slip they can use to retrieve the memory at a later date.

There’s also a basketball loving teen girl, her bachelor uncle, a photographer, a cat, a scarecrow, a photographer, and a sheriff. There’s a bunch of history and magical realism and all of it is wonderful. A story about weather and the land and what we did to it and what role our memories play in making us whole. I loved it all. If you read it we must talk!

Earth to Moon by Moon Unit Zappa

I did not expect much from this memoir by Frank Zappa’s eldest child. I knew of her vaguely because of MTV and the song Valley Girl. But I like music and music-adjacent books. This one was a damn delight. Zappa is funny and smart, and tells the story of her family with honesty. It’s not a happy story and while she has much more empathy for her mother, I do not. Gail Zappa was a vindictive monster. Check it out if you’re into music, sacrifices people make to “male genius,” or twisted moms.

The Latest Jams

A few words about some records I’ve been digging recently.

• “Send a Prayer My Way,” Julien Baker & Torres. In the BS (before stroke) era, this would have been an automatic pre-order, but I can’t buy records anymore due to being poor. However, thanks to streaming I get to listen to this lovely lesbian country album. I super appreciate it because it’s matching up nicely with a book I read recently (The Exvangelicals by Sarah McCammon) and making me think about religious trauma.
• “Big Ugly,” Fust. You know I don’t often give new male artists a lot of my attention, so you know this has gotta be good. It gives me a bit of that 70s country rock vibe. Plus, they have a song called “Jody” and I forgive them the misspelling.
• “Billboard Heart,” Deep Sea Diver. Do you like rock & roll music? You’ll like this.
• “I Don’t Know But How They Found Me!” Jensen McRae. Listen if you like well-written, deeply emotional songs by young women. I love this one because the feelings are universal, but the perspective is new to me (she’s like 30 years young than I am).

What have you been reading or listening to, Darling Ones?

Love,
Jodi (not Jody)

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Hola Darling Ones,

Every month I vow to work on this post throughout the month so my eyes & Floppy Scoop don’t eet pooped out from all the typing and reading. Every month I do not do that. But hope springs eternal, so maybe next month?

Matthew Sweet Recovers from Stroke at Madonna

I’ve watched this video of Sweet’s stroke recovery process about 12 times since my friend Robin shared it with me. Each time I get a little shaky and anxious and then tears shoot from eyes. It’s cathartic.

I see a lot of my experience in his. The slight shake of his head as he speaks is the same shake my head does. The tremor is his left hand is similar to the one in my right. The inability to walk more than a few feet, same! When I was doing weekly OT/PT I didn’t get to use a cool robotic arm, and there was zero drawing with markers. Instead, my OT had me typing and writing, because that’s what writers do.

This is a good watch if you’re curious about what stroke recovery is like.

The Floor

Sister #2 dropped her appreciation for the Rob Lowe-hosted gameshow into the family chat telling us it was a nice balance for all the murder shows she usually watches.

While I usually ignore most TV suggestions for everyone (i’m bad at watching TV), Sister #4 and I gave it shot when she was here for dinner one night.

Darling Ones, I love it because it’s a trivia gameshow you have to watch and pay attention to. This means you can’t doomscroll or practice Spanish or crochet while it’s on. I mean you could, but you’d miss the point. Contestants, who get to pick their area of expertise, have to identify things by picture or missing word. Since I’m an arrogant prick, I have to watch to prove I know more than they do.

It is a delight to just focus on one single thing without my brain weasels involved. It is the most relaxing 20-45 minutes (depending on my attention span) of my day.

I also like it because it makes me ponder what my expert category would be. My first choice was “Bob’s Burgers” but after watching men continuously fail because they don’t recognize women rappers, athletes, CEOs, actors, etc., I’d probably go with Female Indie Singers and then rule that floor.

The Harder I Fight the More I Love You by Neko Case

Holy buckets did I love this memoir. So much so that’s I’m gonna have to revisit my Top 10 Nonfiction Music Books from 2021.

Before cracking the book I knew Case was an excellent songwriter, I’ve been a fan of eons. However, great songs don’t always translate into great memoirs (sorry Bob Mould, Pete Townshend, Kathleen Hanna, etc.), Case’s memoir is great. It’s emotionally honest, interesting, and unsparing. It focuses a lot on her early years growing up in poverty and it’s rough to read at times, but you can see the genisus of some her songs in the stories she shares, and that is the best.

Greek Yogurt Bagels

As previously mentioned I care about carbs & protein now. One of the ways I’ve cramming more protein into my gob is by making Greek Yogurt Bagels for my daily breakfast sandwich. They are pretty good. I’ve made them twice and the second time they were even better (perhaps I kneaded them more?). If you care about carbs and bagels, give them a short. I’m hesitant to share any recipe from a site barfily called “skinnytaste,” but it’s the recipe I follow.

What have you been digging, Darling Ones? I’m ever-so curious.

Appreciatively yours,
Jodi

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Hi Darling Ones,

Here’s a look at some of the stuff I’ve been digging this month. I spared you the Barley Chronicles but will sum it up as OMG BARLEY! Who knew?

People Who Listen to My Election Anxiety

You can always tell when somethings got my anxiety on high – I don’t shut up about it. As the election draws nearer I’m rambling to everyone about how anxious it’s making me. I’m afraid if Harris wins and I’m afraid if she loses. I do not trust Republicans to handle this election and any outcome like rational adults.

I’m reminded after I had my colonoscopy when I told the guy they had six years (or whenever I need another one) to get the prep stuff to taste like a milkshake.

“Everyone says the prep is the worst,” he said.
“Eh,” I said. “Everyone must have a bad imagination. It wasn’t fun but it wasn’t nearly as bad as I thought it was going to be.”

That’s how my brain is doing the election. I’m imaging large-scale armed insurrection where Republicans take Coon Rapids and the Dakota and I need to hunker down in Supergenuis HQ trying to participate in some kind of underground railroad for Trump’s “enemies” and that’s the scenario if Harris wins!

OBSERVATIONS FROM A CROWDED ROOM, Joy Oladokun

As a white midewestern lady it feels weird to write about how much I enjoy Oladokun’s new record about dealing with racism and her role in music.

But it’s smart, beautiful record and the least I can do is bear witness. I’ve been a fan since I first stumbled on “sorry isn’t good enough.”

This new record is chef’s kiss and one of those I’ve listened to in its entirety every day. I love when she talks about James Baldwin and waiting for progress. “I’d Miss the Birds” is my favorite song on the record. So sad and beautiful, my favorite combo next to sweet and salty.

We Are Living in a Golden Age of Apples

I love apples and am #TeamHoneycrisp, though I’ll SweeTango and Cosmic Crisp will do in a pinch. I also love whatever green apple AffyTapple uses. Red Delicious are garbage and I’d rather have zero apples than one of those things.

This article about apples is fascinating and not at all boring even thought it contains words like “genome” and “Mesopotamia.”

Really liked this bit:
“I spoke with several apple researchers while working on this story, and do you know who loves their jobs? Apple researchers. And that’s not just because they get to taste new varieties all the time and spend workdays in an orchard. All of them, as well as the other orchardists and hobbyists I know, are proud of the progress they’ve made in the past few decades and optimistic about the future.”

On Legacies, Noticing, and Being Seen

This 20-minute talk pulled at my heart strings and made my neurons fire. And it gave me goosebumps. Just watch it. I don’t want to say more and spoil the delight.

A Few Books

I’m gonna keep this part short because the Floppy Scoop is protesting and my eyes are starting to not focus.

Icarus by K. Ancrum — a lovely YA novel about art theft and finding your community.

The Plot and The Sequel by Jean Hanff Korelitz — literary mysteries in the truest sense of the word. Plagiarism and death and black mail and so so so funny,

Blue Sisters by Coco Mellors — while nothing earth-shatteringly original or even surprising, it’s a lovely book about grief and sisterhood. Really hit me where it counts because it’s about four sisters and that’s my weakness.

What have you dug this lovely October?

Jodi

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Hello Darling Ones,

Last night I finished Unshrinking: How to Face Fatphobia by philosopher Kate Manne. It’s one of those books that should be required reading for all humans. I’d also include Black AF History: The Un-Whitewashed Story of America by Michael Harriot and probably, Persepolis: The Story of a Childhood by Marjane Satrapi.

I enjoyed Manne’s book a lot, even if I didn’t learn a ton. Having lived in a fat body my entire life I’m familiar with the insidiousness of fatphobia. I know about the failure of diets and the damage they do to our bodies, how long term weight loss is unsustainable. I know what it’s like to exist in a world where you literally do not fit.

While I did not learn a lot of new-to-me-information, the book did spur some internal debate and helped me clarify some of my thinking regarding losing weight, specifically my own weightless.

Darling Ones, I’ve been on Ozempic for about 12 weeks now. I owe nobody who reads here any information about my health, my body, my life, I know this, and yet I feel like I’ve been hiding a dirt secret.

There is no small amount of shame that comes with being fat, obviously. My battles with my body and with fatphobia have been well-chronicled in these pixels. I feel like I had finally reached a detente with my body and its size. Or maybe I was slowly creeping up on detente.

But then my brain had to go betray me and everything went out the door.

I’ve been so preoccupied with working on recovering from the stroke that I don’t spend a lot time wallowing in shame for staying away from healthcare for so long due to, well, body shame. I will forever be grateful to my Nurse Practitioner for never, not ever making me feel ashamed for being fat. She’s only shamed for one thing thus far, being too hard on myself. This is why I continue to see her every three months to stay on track of my overall health and recovery.

It may seem surprising, but I approached her about taking Ozempic.

Here’s why: my goal is to walk without a walker and if I’m so fortunate I’d love to walk and carry things at the same time again. I’m willing to do nearly anything to make that happen. Nearly. I’m unwilling, right now, to get my knees replaced. I’m too afraid of having another stroke during surgery.

What’s any of this got to do with losing weight?

Right now I got a host of things working against me: right-side heaviness from the stroke, a tremor that pops up periodically, neuropathy in my feet, distorted vision from the macular edema, general balance issues from the stroke, and chronic pain in my knees from arthritis. There might be more, but I can’t think of them.

When I saw the knee guy last year he said weightless would help with the pain. He said every pound I lose would mean 8 pounds of pressure off my knees.

Because I’ve lived in a fat body my entire life, weightloss has always been suggested as the cure for whatever ails me. So, of course, I ignored him. It’s not like I haven tried to lose weight for the past 48 years (I was put on my first diet medically-prescribed diet when I was four).

Then I started pool therapy and hot damn! that changed everything. When I was nearly weightless in the water, my knees didn’t bother me. I could stand and walk and exercise. It was glorious (and I miss it).

Maybe, I realized, there is something to the knee guy’s weightloss theory. So I talked about Ozempic with my NP. It was a little dicey at first because she wasn’t sure insurance would cover it. My diabetes has been well-controlled with insulin since I found out I had it (my A1C has been below 6 since May 2023). But she worked her magic and I’ve been on it for three months. My body has adapted well, unlike the Victoza insurance wanted me to use.

This will not become a diary of my “weightloss journey.” Diet culture is toxic bullshit. And I hate it. Fatphobia is a real thing that kills people and diminishes quality of life. These are all facts. Which is why I’m going through no small amount of inner strife over this decision. But I’ve set a goal and I really love meeting my goals.

Love,
Jodi

P.S. I forget to mention it’s working in all the ways it’s supposed to and I’ll be off inulin sometime next week.

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