Texas, Paper Art, Frozen 2, Heath Ledger.

Greetings, friends!

I took the week off last week because MAN, last week ate. my LUNCH. My schedule was a little different, Rosie was teething, Mac was…three…and I couldn’t muster one single brain cell to put fingers to keyboard. Can anyone relate?

But this week, the clouds have literally and figuratively parted. We’ve had two back-to-back 65 degree days in Asheville, which honestly feels like someone took the needle from Pulp Fiction and injected serotonin into my frontal lobe (I have no idea if I got any of the anatomy about the brain right, I’m just gonna roll through it. My memory of what a brain looks like all stems from this clip from that episode of Lizzie McGuire where the fake brain explodes all over Gordo. Anyone?).

Spaghetti with meatballs.

Everyone I know was talking about Texas last week, and for good reason. My family was without power a few weeks ago for 5 days when our heater (which was old) finally passed to another dimension. We were all living in our bedrooms and near the fireplace wearing winter coats, hats, and gloves inside while Asheville got two snowstorms and the temperatures dipped into the teens. What we didn’t know was that in the last days of its life, the heater was drawing in triple its normal amount of natural gas trying to heat our home, slapping us with not only the cost of replacing the heater, but a utility bill that was…painful. The whole week was one of the most challenging I’ve ever had as a parent and one day found me crying in my closet floor.

All that to say - I have a tiny, tiny idea of what these precious folks in Texas, Oklahoma, and other states were dealing with last week. We had a generator to power small space heaters in each bedroom and never lost running water. I have goosebumps sitting here trying to put myself in the shoes of a stay-at-home mom in Texas with small children, no power, no heat, and no water. Their reality puts mine to shame - and on top of everything, they’re likely being billed not hundreds, but thousands of dollars in gas and electric bills as they tried to warm their homes. If you’re able to toss a few dollars in the pot, this article from the New York Times gives a great list of boots-on-the-ground organizations in the affected areas. I donated and I hope you will, too.

Primavera.

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For the last few weeks (slowly, but surely), I’ve been chipping away at these paper art creations for the folks who ordered them. At the beginning of February, my friend Molly came up with a brilliant idea. She wanted one of the Amanda Gorman pieces I was making, and suggested I offer to make Black icons for people at a cost I could donate for Black History Month. So I did! I ended up with about 30 orders and and chipping away at them. It’s been unexpectedly powerful for me to work on these people. Of course, I knew it would be special to imagine these pieces living on people’s walls and that the featured person would get to inspire them visually - what I didn’t expect was the meditative element of spending time with each person - poring over their hair, clothing, gestures - to be so moving. I’ve welled up a few times as I glued Chadwick Boseman’s arms, crossed in fists across his chest, down on a page, or as I carefully cut out Henrietta Lacks’ hairstyle and read more about her life. I am really grateful that Molly came up with this cool idea and that so many people gave me the opportunity to learn more about their heroes. I’ve got more to go - the Obamas, Kobe Bryant, and MLK Jr., to name a few - but the effort has been so special and I hope people enjoy these as much as I enjoyed making them.

Pop culture corner.

As usual, so many things to say.

Being the nostalgia addict that I am, I’m a devotee of Disney+. In scrolling around earlier this week, I came across an amazing docuseries called “Into The Unknown: The Making of Frozen 2.” I’m surprised there isn’t more buzz about this series because it is COOL AS HELL. I mean, you have to care about music, behind-the-scenes footage, animation, etc. to agree with me here, I guess - but I’m someone who always watches directors cuts and the version of the DVD (#antiquated) with commentary - so this stuff is right up my alley. I was covered in goosebumps, cried a couple of times, made Jordan watch certain sections with me. I think Frozen 2 was a largely unsuccessful movie from a plot perspective, but watch this backstory really gave it new life. Here’s the a clip of the first time the team hears Into the Unknown with the full, live orchestra. If this doesn’t give you goosebumps, go get your heart checked:

In other Disney+ news, I’d never seen Ten Things I Hate About You (I know, I know) and watched it a few days ago. HEATH. LEDGER. THOUGH. Watching the movie (which was obviously great) sent me down a wormhole of the Heath Ledger ilk, and I was truly shocked to read that he was 28 when he died. TWENTY EIGHT. I think because of his appearance in The Dark Knight being so edgy and mature, I always put him as so much older than that in my head. I was only 19 when he died, but now that I’m older than he was, 28 feels really young. Shockingly young. He was so great in everything he was ever in, and just so DREAMY. Man.

In other news, a blogger I’ve followed for more than a decade (Kathleen Barnes at carriebradshawlied.com) recently posted a list of “happiness hacks,” AKA things people do in their day to boost their happiness. I thought that was such a wonderful topic, so I wanted to share a few things I got from that post and things I do for myself: lighting a candle when I’m working; having fresh (inexpensive - like $3 at the grocery!) flowers cut in bud vases all over the house; re-potting my grocery store orchids into larger, prettier containers; having a special “end of the day” drink (non-alcoholic, usually, just a fancy La Croix and simple syrup with some fruit in it!); making a point to watch movies I’ve always wanted to see but never have (finally took on 9 to 5 this week and oh. my. gosh. 😍). Would love to hear yours if you’re up for sharing.

Finally, as usual, leaving you with a couple of follow recommendations. Two podcasts - one, The Big Picture, is a movie commentary show that is nerdy as hell, but if you like this kind of stuff, you’re welcome:

Listen to this episode from The Big Picture on Spotify. We kicked off our ranking of the top movie stars over 35 years old earlier this week. Now comes the hard part. Sean and Amanda drill down to make the tough choices. Hanks? Sandler? Streep? Denzel? Charlize?

The second is the opposite, an incredibly vapid but great to listen to while folding laundry podcast called Even the Rich. This most recent series is on the Kardashian family. It’s a great guilty pleasure. And in 2021, no pleasure is guilty. It’s just pleasure.

Listen to this episode from Even the Rich on Spotify. Once upon a time, no one had ever heard the name Kim Kardashian. But in the 15 years since the Kardashians have been on the scene, they've changed the nature of celebrity as we know it.

Happy weekend, friends. So much love to ya!

Chris Harrison, Galentine's, Framing Britney Spears.

Heavy metal.

Woooo boy, Chris Harrison really whiffed an interview with Rachel Lindsay, a former Bachelorette and the first Black lead in the franchise’s history (which is still a wild sentence to type, since that happened within the last 5 years). Lindsay is now an anchor at the Extra news desk, so she had Harrison on to talk about the season and the new allegations coming out against one of the cast members, Rachael Kirkconnell.

I won’t delve into the craziness of it all except to briefly recap: Kirkconnell, who is white, is being accused of racist behavior. Allegedly, she’s of made fun of a classmate for “liking Black guys;” went to an Old South party at her college; dressed up in as an Indigenous person at a party. Harrison came in hot, clearly upset about the idea of “cancel culture” and how harshly the Internet has dealt with Kirkconnell in the last few weeks.

Of course, like with many things, the Internet mob has gone too far in some places, digging up Kirkconnell’s parents’ voting record and declaring that because they’re Republicans, she must be a racist. So he’s not wrong (even Lindsay agreed there).

That said, the things being discussed are relevant to the moment we’re in as a country - and particularly so, because the lead of this season is Matt James, the franchise’s first Black male lead.

I think this conversation is worth watching, because in many ways, this is a case study in what not to do as a white person when discussing this sort of stuff. And by the way - I’m coming from a place of great humility in saying this, as I myself have been schooled again and again on my own mis-steps (and will 100% make more in the course of my lifetime). While he references the “love,” “respect,” and “grace” in his relationship with Lindsay and off-camera, all we see as an audience is Harrison steam-rolling a Black woman in a conversation about race.

At one point in the interview, Lindsay expresses that she thinks the reason it’s become a big deal is that Kirkconnell hasn’t spoken out or given a statement, despite having had six weeks to do so. There is a marked tonal shift, and Harrison, visibly upset, responds:

“When do you jump in? When is the time? And who is Rachel Lindsay, and who is Chris Harrison, and who is whatever ‘woke police’ person out there - who are you? And I’ve heard this a lot: ‘I think she should ______,’ ‘I think he should _____,’ - who the hell are you? Who are you that you demand this?” (5:20ish minutes)

Later in the interview, Lindsay asks if the Bachelor franchise will make a statement about any of the allegations. Again, angry*, Harrison responds:

“I don’t think it is incumbent upon the Bachelor franchise to speak out on everything that everyone wants to hear about on social media. …We’re not in the business of dealing with every problem that you have. That’s not how this works. We don’t have the time of day to handle everything that comes up on social media.” (12ish minutes)

Maybe the worst moment is when he launches into a monologue about whether “erasing history” is a good or a bad idea, then talks about how we should “give people time” to make statements:

“The ‘woke police’ is out there and this poor girl Rachael, who has just been thrown to the lions - I don’t know how you are equipped when you’ve never done this before, to be ‘woke’ enough, to be eloquent enough, to be ready to handle this. My guess is, this woman needs a little time. …We don’t give people time to have some perspective and try to drink this in for a second, see how this affects their life, and then speak on it.” (5:30ish minutes)

Certainly, people should have a moment to acknowledge what they’ve done wrong and to change some behavior. But what Harrison is missing there is the impact these things have on Black people, who are never given the luxury of “time” to deal with it. And it’s especially tone-deaf to say this to Lindsay, who had to deal with an openly racist cast member…on her own season. Someone whose social media made that clear, and who should’ve been filtered out of the pool of candidates from the beginning.

To get into the technicalities, I think what we’re seeing here is Harrison being hamstrung by the fact that he can’t discuss that Kirkconnell won the season and can’t speak on anything because, typically, contestants don’t issue any kind of statement about what has happened on the show until it’s finished airing - an unspoken rule that saves the drama for The Women Tell All or After The Final Rose, the only live shows within the season. I sense that his frustration is that she simply can’t address it, and so he’s stepping in as her proxy. He has a franchise to defend, and, to my ears, a winner to defend (why else would he be getting so worked up if Kirkconnell isn’t Matt’s final selection?).

BUT.

Even his salient points are muffled by the mis-steps he made in constantly talking over a Black woman about issues of race, making constant, sneering remarks about "woke-ness,” and an overall tonal failure. It stopped being about Kirkconnell and became about how, in having a conversation where he encourages the country to treat her with nuance and grace, Harrison exhibits neither.

The real star is here is Lindsay, who kept her cool completely, listened, and extended generosity to her friend, showing Harrison exactly what he should have been doing all along. Especially poignant to note that as a Black woman, and a would-be victim of Kirkconnell’s alleged racism, she’s the one being forced to care for the white person in the conversation.

It’s a great learning opportunity for all of us white people, and a reminder of how ugly we can look when our own overconfidence and defensiveness gets the better of us when we feel personally slighted.**

*And also if a woman had acted this angry and defensive the Internet would be treating her like she was unhinged.

It’s difficult to see how The Bachelor, a franchise that’s beloved, is going to survive when it’s already had a fair share of controversy surrounding sexual assault, racial misfires, and cyber-bullying in the extreme. It’ll have to be a major pivot, but how to do that without sacrificing the show’s core conceit? I really don’t know.

**A post-post note, updated Monday, 2/15: Chris Harrison has stepped aside from the franchise for an undisclosed amount of time. The issue is more complicated than I originally understood, and it’s clear that the thoughts Harrison expressed in this interview weren’t just flippant, but representative of more deeply held beliefs and biases that perpetuate systemic racism. He’s now issued two apologies and I hope for the best in his learning and experience moving forward as, hopefully, an advocate for anti-racism.

Indie pop.

On to happier things, like GALENTINE’S DAY ON SATURDAY!!! Y’all, Galentine’s has become a much bigger deal to me than Valentine’s. If you’re like me, Valentine’s Day is stuffed with all these weird expectations. You don’t want to be “that girl,” who expects a lot of frilly, frothy, cutesy stuff and a lot of attention, buuuut…aren’t you always slightly disappointed if you don’t at least get a bouquet of flowers? Anyone?

Jordan and I remedied this expectations death trap a while ago by declaring that Valentine’s Day was “pizza and board game night,” which is always really fun. But Galentine’s? Now that’s a holiday I can get excited about.

Galentine’s Day started on the show Parks and Recreation, where Leslie Knope, a feminist icon of joy and transformative optimism, founded February 13th as the day when we celebrate the women in our lives and what they’ve brought to the world.

I’m gathering (outdoors, distanced, and masked) on Saturday with a few of my nearest and dearest women to celebrate the joy that is female friendship. I hope you’ve got plans, even if it’s a group text where you name specifically what you love about each other.

GIRLS ARE GREAT! If you’re a Galentine reading this, I love you and I’m so glad you’re here. You bring so much to the table! Go eat a heart-shaped pizza to celebrate yourself!

Pop culture corner.

I, like many of you, watched Framing Britney Spears on Hulu this week. It’s an important watch, I think. There are so many elements that still ring true today, and so many ways the culture has shifted since the early aughts. For those of us who grew up with Britney as the queen she is, it’s chilling to see all the tabloid stuff laid bare. Especially for anyone who’s transitioned into motherhood, watching a 25-year-old new mom be hounded by paparazzi while battling postpartum depression in an extremely public way is truly devastating. The Justine Timberlake of it all and the constant conversation around her virginity was so gross - I wrote a little about that in an essay series I did on teenage sex and purity culture, which you can read here. Justice for Britney.

Part One of the RHSLC reunion was just. absolutely. everything. This franchise is giving me life. Thank you, Bravo. And thank you, Vanessa Bayer.

My follow recommendation for the week is a podcast! I know there are a lot of fellow Office fans out here. Have you listened to the Brian Baumgartner (AKA Kevin Malone) podcast “An Oral History of The Office” on Spotify? It is a fantastic listen, with interviews with every major cast members, creator, show runner, and director. It will put a lump in your throat and a smile on your face, guaranteed. Listen if only to hear Kevin not sound like Kevin.

Fifteen years ago, the American television landscape changed forever with the launch of a new series that struggled initially, but became one of television's most beloved and enduring comedies. "An Oral History of The Office" pulls back the curtain on what went into creating this unstoppable force in American popular culture and why it continues to resonate with new audiences today.

Happy weekend, friends - I hope you spend the weekend celebrating the love in your life, both big and small. I’m certainly grateful for you. ❤️

I Voted. Here’s Why.

The truth is, I hesitated to post about the election. Things are so very polarized, and it’s so important to me that this space remain one in which people feel respected, considered, and loved. 

And as much as I fear anyone ever taking something I say personally or not the way I meant it (and I fear it a lot, like...had months of anxiety in 2018 because of it “a lot”), even stronger than the fear is a feeling in my gut that I want to make my stance in this race known. Not because I’m deluded enough to believe that anybody is waiting on pins and needles, but because when I started blogging a million years ago on a LiveJournal (shoutout to my homies from 2005 who also had a lot of feelings!), it was just a collection of my thoughts. For whatever else this blog has turned into, that’s still what it is. 

This little piece isn’t meant to convince you, or shame you if you don’t agree with me - if you’ve read my blog long enough, you (hopefully) know that that’s not my style. So not my style, in fact, that last week I published this piece to help you make your own decision regardless of my own biases - I believe in informed, smart voting, no matter what the vote being cast reflects. Instead, it’s simply to tell you what’s going on in my head and heart. 

So here’s what I think. 

When Donald Trump was elected in 2016, I wrote this piece. I try to come from a place of “calm now, panic later if and when we actually should.” It bothers me when people panic, and In response to the massive panic that took place after Trump’s election, I found myself desperately searching for steadiness and pragmatism. 

The piece is called “It’s Going To Be Okay, But First:” and was filled with data, and mourning, but ultimately, with hope. 

The thing is, as pragmatic a non-panicked person as I try to be, it was not okay. Not okay for so many people and in so many ways.

And I don’t say that because “my team” lost the 2016 election. I’m perfectly used to losing.

I’m an Auburn fan.

It’s because the man who won the election seems devoid of a moral compass, or compassion, or the other things that we hold as imperatives for our role models. 

Though Maya Angelou taught us the old chestnut, “When people show you who they are, believe them,” I still manage to find myself shocked and devastated by his lack of integrity or willingness to lead with anything that resembles dignity, or humility. There are a few lessons that my dad taught me growing up which I wrote down in a notebook and never forgot. One of them is, “Good leaders take the blame and share the credit.” I can’t remember a time that President Trump has taken the heat for making a mistake, or that he’s deflected praise (even if well-earned) to another deserving person. 

All politicians are desperate to be loved, and all of them say things that are flat out wrong or stupid every now and again. Though I loved President Obama, he made mistakes. Everyone does. Unless you’re looking to hate someone, we can all offer a bit of grace to each other in those moments. But instead of an occasional misstep or gaffe, we’ve been living for the last four years with a President who actively mis-leads the American public. Who says things that are not true, even while he knows they’re not true as he’s saying them. Can we pause and just sit with that for a moment? Because if you’re like me, you’ve had to compartmentalize that truth in order to keep your head above water and believe that better times were ahead. The idea that I haven’t watched more than a handful of Presidential addresses, press conferences, State of the Unions...all because I knew I couldn’t trust what I was hearing, from the President of the United States - that feels heavy and awful to me. 

In the midst of all those other thoughts, as I sat down to write this, I found myself thinking mostly about the unpredictability of life. 

If the insane, Michael Bay-worthy mess that is 2020 has taught us anything, it’s that nothing is certain. Life can change in a snap. When Mac was born in December of 2017, our families poured into the hospital room, armed with hot chocolate and flowers. When Rosie was born at the height of the first wave in April 2020, we introduced her to our parents over Facetime. 

Life is very precious, and though we’re resilient as hell, very fragile. And when I thought about the issues surrounding this and all elections, the term “pro-life” began to form new meaning. 

I believe in the sanctity of human and animal life. I try my very best to catch and release bugs in my house. Sometimes, I admit, they do get squished in the transfer from trapped under a glass to the yard - but the intention is there. On my best days, I’m a vegetarian, although sometimes a cheeseburger tempts me away from that position. 

But there are some positions on which I never waver. 

I am, and have always been, anti-capital punishment and anti-war. I don’t think that committing a crime means your life is less valuable; the religion I subscribe to does not teach that. I believe that children are sacred, precious miracles and deserve to be born into a world that is ready to provide basic needs for them, rather than born for the sake of upholding an obligation, then abandoned by an administration who does not believe housing is a human right. I believe in the sacredness of a mother’s life, and that while she is pregnant, she deserves affordable healthcare and nutrition. I believe in the sacredness of the lives of Black women, who are disproportionately sick and dying in childbirth because of statistically proven systemic racism and pre-existing conditions that this administration seeks to punish. 

I am “pro-life” when it comes to poor people who have been losing their homes, whose children are hungry because this administration put ego before science and failed to save them. I think the lives of immigrant families and children are just as important as my own, and I find the practice of separating children from their parents, allowing them to get sick and die in isolation from their caretakers to be not only monstrous and horrific, but grieving to the heart of the God who sees all life as having been created on a singular and pristinely valuable plane. I am pro-life when Black men and women killed by people whose job title is “law enforcement.” I am pro-200,000+ lives lost in this pandemic, an unknowable number of which may have been spared had we simply stuck to a plan and listened to people who’ve made it their life’s work to know exactly how to respond in just such a situation. 

I support the lives of children in our public education system, one of whom once asked me, “Can you get pregnant from oral sex?” because the system is failing them to the degree that they have no sex education and therefore are some of the people we’re hypothetically talking about when we discuss abortion in the abstract. I believe that the lives of women everywhere should be held up as heroic, hard-working, beautiful and strong instead of demeaned by crude language and back-room smirks, not because they’re someone’s daughter, sister, or wife, but because they are a person unto themselves. I am pro-human, animal, and plant life, destroyed by a callous disrespect for the wonders of the planet. 

And while I am personally pro-life in the traditional sense of that phrase, in that had I gotten pregnant prior to getting married, I would’ve had that baby, I also will never vote to restrict women’s access to safe, legal abortions. Women will have abortions whether or not they’re legal, and the reasons are wildly varied. I’m not a doctor, and I’ll never understand the position of a woman seeking an abortion because I’ve never lived it. And because I’ve never lived it, all I can do is vote so that medical professionals have the latitude they need to give women a service they know how to advise about and provide, to offer the necessary mental health support, and make birth control affordable. 

Abortion can be terribly upsetting to me, as it can, I imagine, for most mothers to. I feel a lump forming in my throat as I sit here typing these words because of just how potentially devastating, personal, and tender the innumerable circumstances are where an abortion is the outcome. It is complicated. But it isn’t the only thing that matters to me. 

There is no perfect candidate, no perfect person. And still, having gone on record four years ago hoping against hope that it would all shake out in the end - hoping for Donald Trump’s success and wishing him well (because what’s the alternative?), I think there is such a thing as an unacceptable answer, even when given a choice. 

When we’re asked as a country, “Who are you?” we tend to answer in shouts, most of them directed at people who don’t align with us. What if, instead, we answered in whispers in our own hearts; what if we heard “you” in the singular rather than the plural? The voting booth is a private place, and maybe we could also think of it as a holy one - a confessional of sorts. What if we attenuated the scale of our response to that question, “Who are you?” to be just big enough for one ballot, for one conscience? 

(And while we’re talking about religion: I am not confused about whether Donald Trump represents the values of radical love, caretaking, humility, service, inclusion, and justice that are exemplified in my religious tradition by an underdog from Nazareth who was born to a poor, brown, teenage single mother: he does not. I will not allow him to pander to me as a Christian person by posing with a Bible or pretending that being “pro-life” is the same as loving God. Here, he has shown me who he is, and I believe him.)

Regardless of party or precedent, I will always vote for compassion over fear-mongering, for transparency over hubris, for empathy over ego, for softness over hardness. 

Two weeks ago, I proudly cast my vote for a Biden/Harris administration.