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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Dear Darling Ones,

I’ve been thinking about Influencers today because I read a Buzzfeed listicle about shitty, entitled Influencers who wanted free things because of their influence. Barf. Influencer culture fascinates me in a rubber-necking an accident on the side of the road kind of way. I know what it is and yet I don’t get why any sane, rational person would follow an Influencer or be influenced by one. It’s all so gross, and yet one of my favorite hobbies is judging everyone involved. Harshly. There is much harsh judgment. It’s fun.

Influencers were also on my mind because I spent, I don’t know, two hours picking out new stickers for my new computer. Did I drop the stomach-aching-sum of $2K on a new computer? Yes? Am I also going to cover that paean to modern design and technology in goofy stickers? Also, yes. In case you’re wondering, this is the current stick sitch on Gladys, my seven-year-old MacBook Air.

The entire time I did this pointless, procrastinatory shopping I had the scene between Tai & Travis Birkenstock from “Clueless” running through my head. Unlike Travis, I was not focusing on one main decorative statement. Instead, I went for all the pop culture detritus that defines my personality: ampersands, song lyrics, movie quotes, and book nerd things.

While playing the movie Clueless from memory I also thought of my own influences: Liz Phair, Greek Mythology, e.e. cummings, Elizabeth McCracken, Scott Hutchison, Jennifer Egan,* Aimee Bender, Paul Westerberg, Kurt Vonnegut, Almost Famous, High Fidelity, Sweet Valley High, Beverly Cleary, The Outsiders, Neko Case, Lucinda Williams, Happy Days, and Heathers.

Then, of course, I thought of stuff I could be influential about. Aside from that one time I was almost a tree influencer, I couldn’t come up with anything. Which is good, because you shouldn’t listen to me. I’m seventy-seven inches of bad decisions in a cheap yellow t-shirt.

However, when I was eating lunch at 3 p.m. (don’t ask) this afternoon I looked up from my sesame bagel with peanut butter and sliced apples and noticed the scene pictured above. It was a box of Ghost DOTS** made by the Tootise company chilling next to two Tootsie Pops I keep in that thing I keep all kinds of junk in. I took that picture and then took a selfie of me wearing the wise old owl shirt.

Is this what it is to be influential? Do you have the sudden desire to eat glow-in-the-dark color DOTS? What if I told you that the #4 most popular post on this here website is Tootsie Pop Flavors: A Definitive Ranking? Will that make you want a delicious, orange Tootsie Pop?

Should I be hitting up the Tootsie Corporation for some fat influential cash? Or at the very least some more DOTS? I need more, because I ate that entire box of Ghost DOTS in less than twelve hours.

See what I mean by bad decisions in a cheap t-shirt?
Jodi

 
*Last night after Family Dinner we Zoomed with Portland & Oakland. At one point Sister #2 made everyone talk about what they were reading. When Jaycie popped up a copy of Jennifer Egan’s A Visit from the Goon Squad I squealed with joy.

 
**Last night before Family Dinner, Maxwell walked into Supergenius HQ and said, “I got you a gift.” Then he handed over the Ghost DOTS and it made my heart glow because I love DOTS and I love that he remembered how much I love DOTS. Being remembered for things is my jam.

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Dear Darling Ones,

I would like to report that today was a pretty good day for an endless pandemic during the fall of capitalism. I will tell you the reasons in list form because I’m kinda exhausted (see item #4).

• I listened to Joan Jett’s “I Love Rock & Roll” four times in a row this morning.
• After I posted yesterday’s letter, my Black Sheep friend Christopher said, and I quote, “I will never be as brave a writer as you are.” And that made smile and tear up.
• I got donuts and Chicago mix popcorn at the grocery store.
• I had a two hour video meeting with the Tea Ladies where we talked about books and books and some more books and food and books and they made me laugh so much. I’m exhausted because being witty and angry and bitter out loud makes me tired. All my speaking with humans muscles have atrophied.
• Largehearted Boy sent me five pounds of Atomic Fireballs because I ran out.
• When I sent him a thank you email he said, and I quote, “You inspire me almost every day with your writing.” And that made me smile and tear up.
• Funko, the makers of my favorite plastic garbage, announced Phylis from the Office; Fonzie; The Cranes from Fraiser; and Endora from Bewitched Funko Pops. My desire for these is already mounting. Desire mounts, right?
• I made a Cuban sandwich for dinner and my stomach is very happy about that.

That’s a lot of things for a random Thursday.*

Contentedly yours,
Jodi
 
*I told the Tea Ladies that since March 2020 every day feels like Thursday and they burst out laughing with Anne saying, “I don’t know why that’s so right, but it is.” It makes me mad too because I used to love Thursdays.

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Hi Darling Ones,

I have typed and deleted roughly 600 words so far during the creation of this letter. My brain is a little spinny today. I can’t seem to grasp any thought for more than a few seconds. It makes writing difficult and when you’re a writer that makes your day wholly unproductive.

One of the things I tried to write about was my teeny, tiny life, but after about 300 words I quit. Then I tried to write about how oftentimes these daily letters get so sad because I write them before dinner when I am starvation nation. That didn’t work either.

Earlier today I thought I’d write about all the things I did today, like that Frightened Rabbit song that slays my heart all the time, but that got sad too and I’m really bored with talking about my own loneliness. This is probably why my other ideas failed today too.

So all I got to tell you today is that I ran out of Atomic Fireballs. I didn’t think this would ever happen. I have told you about how much I love Atomic Fireballs, yes? Up until today I ate one just about every day since maybe 2016? It was usually a post-lunch treat. Frequently it was lunch.

Why 2016 you might wonder. That’s the year my mom decided to buy me a fuckton of Atomic Fireballs every time she went to the World’s Largest Candy Store, which is not far from where I live. I had mad a casual remark about loving them at some point and that year she went to the candy store all the time. I think because my Aunt Jackie was in town and they went there a lot.

In 2019, after surviving a nasty bit of rough, my BFK (Best Friend Kari for those who don’t remember) brought over a googob of them to cheer me up. This is not a complaint. I love that I have people in my life who will buy me weirdo candy because I like it. It makes up for the lack of hot guys willing to bring me cookies.

Lucky for me running out of Atomic Fireballs has coincided with the release of Valentine’s Candy. I mean, why wouldn’t it? This being the third week of January and all. While Atomic Fireballs are my #1 cinnamon candy jam, a close second is Brach’s Cinnamon Jelly Hearts. They are the perfect squishy candy. Gummi anything gives me the shivers of horror. I’ve watched my sisters plow through a 5-pound bag of gummi bears and barely survived. But these Jelly Hearts are kinda like Dots, but cinnamony and covered in sugar. They’ll do until I get in a new shipment of Atomic Fireballs.

In other news, I’ve decided if I don’t get a begonia soon I might die. Also, I’m trying to not buy anything that isn’t an absolute necessity until March.

At least seeing which side of my personality will win out will give me something to do.
Jodi

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Hello Darling Ones,

How are you? I am bored and cranky, the monotony of the pandemic is getting to me and the mind-numbing routine of my daily life is bringing me down.

Sister #2 and my brother-in-law were in from Portland for about 36 hours last week. It was good and awful. We ate Wendy’s and pizza! It seems so luxurious to eat food not made by me, but we were anxious about if we were exposing each other. I kept calling my sister Typhoid Ericka. It wasn’t funny, but it kind of was. They took Charles with them and I miss him terribly, but he seems to love being in Portland and eating all of Walter’s food.

On Mother’s Day I got to see my mom for a hot second at a mostly socially safe distance. She stopped by to pick up her Mother’s Day gift, which was a batch of tuna salad and some potato chips. Only she left the potato chips here because she’s a brand traitor who prefers Ruffles to Old Dutch like some kind of Wisconsinite or something. Did I ever tell you about the Great Potato Chip Taste Test of 2018? Probably. I’ve told all my good to mediocre stories about 892 times. It’s the problem with having a small life and a very, big* blog.

What else is new? I bought a bunch more garbage to fill up the hole in my soul where, I dunno, soul good stuff should be? Mostly I keep pre-ordering records from random record stores around town. And I also bought a Dawson Leery Funko Pop because I had the other three Capesiders and Dawson really ties the group together. In fact, without him to provide context the other three look like random plastic people. My Funko Pop collection has gone from cute to embarrassing to problematic. I basically feel like my cousin Christine who used to keep her Precious Moments figurines in a custom-lit China hutch in her living room. She used to tell us all about the figures and pointed out the ones that were extra special or unique or rare. I can’t really remember.

The only difference between is that I call my China hutch the China cabinet, because that’s what we always called it growing up, and it’s in the dining room and it’s filled with yarn and signed books and, well, all the stupid records I keep ordering.

In other news, I downloaded a dating app about an hour ago and I’m already annoyed. The first message I got was from a man who said, and I quote, “you must be a dude because the tallest girl I ever met was 6’1″” The second was from man who got all salty when I responded to his “do you want to meet in person?” with “Maybe.”

My guess is I’ll delete the fucking thing before the night is through. I have zero patience for tomfoolery that doesn’t amuse me from the get go.

In actual important news, I tried a lemon-flavored Tootsie Pop. It was a surprising delight. So delightful that I’m considering updating the Definitive Tootsie Pop Flavor Ranking.

That’s all I got for now Darling Ones. I’m gonna go watch Tim Walz address the state. I’m really afraid he’s gonna open shit up and then my nephew will go out and about living life and bringing the dirty virus into my home and I will die.

The good times are killing me,
Jodi

*big as in long time and not big as in lots of readers. Six people read this blog. They are six of the smartest and kindest and best looking people on earth, so I’ve got that going for me.

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