Saul Good and Co.

Drops of January

 

Well here I am writing the first blog entry of 2023 and I'm feeling fragile, vulnerable and freaked out about everything. In other words, New Year/Classic  me, pals! I didn't come here just to share that earthshaking non-news or even try to impart any bon mots. The purpose of blogging today is to engage one of my tools to combat spiraling and paralysis when I'm especially antsy and overwhelmed and don't know where to start. Writing it down, writing through it, is like a little mental bulldozer clearing the way for a shred of calm and the ability to function, it organizes my thoughts, which is soothing. Sure I could do this just as well in a private journal but why let a stupid paper book have all the fun? 

You know I love the winter holidays and I generally get the blues when they're over, but this year I had the distinctly bleh experience of feeling the blues the whole time they were happening. It was absolutely wonderful to be with my family to celebrate, but in the midst of that I had this inner sadness and weird vibe I couldn't quite shake so putting it all behind me is a bit of a relief. This weekend I swept up the fake pine needles and shoved my twinkle lights in the cubby hole with whatever seasonal ache had a hold over me, hoping it'll mellow by the time the calendar tells me we're doing it again. Maybe it's a side-effect of peri-menopause, maybe I feel this way every year and the selective amnesia is all part of it? Either way, on to the next thing.

 

I tend to let my brain float around in goo in the month of December and that fuzzy state of being is generally a restful pleasure, but I'm ready to engage my thinky-meat once again. This year will bring a lot of significant change, professionally (more on that at a later date) so I have a lot of challenges to meet to get up to speed and I'm feeling much more up to the task than I was two weeks ago. On top of that, I have missed the feeling generated by going creatively bananas and I am committing to getting back to that. As much as I'd love to sit around reading Scandanavian procedurals in my sweats (I will be doing plenty of that, make no mistake, but there's a time and place), it's imperative to my soul to take some big swings, to keep kicking down the walls of my comfort zone. That's all very vague, but I know what I mean by it and you'll know if and when I'm making some headway there.

 

Bummer Fairy, out. 

 

What's the 411, Hon?

I love Samantha Irby. She's not for everyone, but her brand of humor is very much my brand of humor and I envy her writing career as well as her talent as someone who can write candidly about bodily functions with so much heart and hilarity. Yadda yadda yadda, read her new book of essays in early 2023 (and catch up her existing catalog if you haven't). I've subscribed to her chatty, free-form newsletter which comes at no regular intervals and has no theme except things she's digging at the moment and so (and in lieu of a substantive end-of-year wrap up) I'm copying her in this entry, because even in a hellscape I'm not without obsessions. 

 

5 TV shows I've loved recently:

 

Reservation Dogs - me and everyone else. This show is perfection.

 

The final season of Derry Girls - I'll never forgive them for the Halloween episode but that's not a bad thing.

 

The Bear - The accuracy, the cast. 

 

The Great North - I am all in for a close-knit family of weirdos. 

 

Letterkenny - I got COVID in May and I got hooked while I was convalescing. I never pass up a chance to say "I'd have a beer" or "To be faiiiiiir..." 

 

5 books you gotta read:

 

Drunk on Love - Jasmine Guillory is the queen of sexy, funny romance.

 

The Stranger Diaries - We're about to see the end of the Ruth Galloway series, but Elly Griffiths has another mystery series and I'm into it. 

 

Bunny by Mona Awad. This book is great and slippery and horrifying and fun. Love love love.

 

Allow Me to Retort: A Black Guy's Guide to the Constitution - Elie Mystal never misses. 

 

This Time Tomorrow by Emma Straub. I think I've mentioned this book 20 times already. Time travel, 1990s NYC setting - this book has everything I love, including her writing and it's also a tribute to her pops, the dear departed Peter Straub. A straight-up  masterpiece. 

 

Top 5 experiences

 

-I know we're not really post-COVID but I got to see enough live music to pretend otherwise. Gang of Youths and Afghan Whigs at The Paradise, Duran Duran at Madison Square Garden, Paul McCartney at Fenway, Ween in Boston and New York and the thrice-postponed  They Might Be Giants - it was a big year for this music fan.

 

-HR adored drama camp this summer and I loved that he loved something that much. It was great to see him perform. 

 

-keeping up my dumb teenage diary instagram has been a blast, both in terms of building a community and getting to know myself from 30 years ago.

 

-being a Buffalo Bills fan right now. It's great! It's terrible! It's a lifestyle!

 

-spending time with friends and family, I mean, should be obvious but the past few years felt so deprived in comparison and I don't want to take the ability to be with my favorite people for granted. The experience that is being able to enjoy our collective continued health cannot be overhyped. 

 

Top 5 foods I ate:

 

-Fresh lobster, steamers, oysters and corn on a picnic table at the campsite at Hermit Island

 

-Truffle deviled eggs at my mother-in-law's birthday dinner at Ocean Prime

 

-The birthday cinnamon roll I got from Union Square donuts

 

-the nachos at the random taqueria near the Capitol Theater in Portchester NY

 

-the garlic fries at the Saltwater Grille in South Portland, I can't get enough.

 

Top 5 holiday musts, because it's that time of year.

 

Everything on here is old and my annual viewing list is huge but if I had to distill the feeling of Christmas into five things, my personal canon includes: 

 

Emmet Otter's Jug Band Christmas

Pee-wee's Christmas Special 

Christmas Eve on Sesame Street

A Charlie Brown Christmas

A Christmas Story

 

OK friends, what are you into? Lemme know k bye!

 

Merci Pour Tout

It's Thanksgiving week, my absolute favorite week of the year, and though it's not an original concept, it is indeed a good time to pop in and share my gratitude. I'm feeling especially lucky right now. Grounded, loved, dare I say fulfilled? My plans for the last week were totally obliterated by a historic weather event in Western New York and I really missed being able to be with my family there, but we made the best of it at home. My sister and her family came down and we made it a rambling party that went way too fast but now that it's over I'm in decent shape to host a small crowd for the holiday on Thursday. I look forward to observing our traditions, like the making of the cranberry sauce and putting up our dumb little tree, while leaving room for good surprises. Everything feels nice and light-filled, loaded for possible magic. I want to keep that close to me for as long as humanly possible. 

There's no better state, then, for me to take a second to tell you, if you're reading this, that you're in my life for a reason and I appreciate whatever contribution you made to my grand and fortunate existence. Love, love, love, love all the love in the world. 

Behold a newly-minted 48-year-old! Almost a half century of things to be thankful for crammed into those cells. 

November Snapshot

So obviously I haven't been writing much these days, though if I barely noticed I don't think anyone else has. I'm popping on to fulfill the once-a-month blog quota I've settled into. Words for the sake of words, sometimes I just need to do this in the guise of self-discipline and on the odd happy occasion it serves as a warmup for other writing. Will today be one of those occasions? You'll never know. 

Mid-term elections were wild, eh? I have to say that as a leftist progressive they made me feel... not entirely dead inside? Dare I say hopeful, even? I know everything is still going on and we're still waiting for the definitive breakdown but it's so, so nice to know that the newest adult generation is made of some real encouraging stuff. I hope y'all get to have a future, I really do. I have so many hopes for us all. 

Who knows what will be next time I sign on here. I'll almost certainly have turned over to 48 by then and unless I get inspired in the next couple of weeks, my favorite holiday will have come and gone but in the meantime I'll just be here caffeinating and working on crafting the perfect one-sentence pitch for my ongoing querying process. And on and on and onandonandon. 

So Fresh and So Clean

Happy 5783 (as of last week) to the chosen and everyone who celebrates with the chosen! You know I'm not a religion guy, but I believe in the power of community, culture and the mindful observance of the holidays that are important to my family.

The past year has been bonkers with tragedy, on the global stage. I'm fortunate that few truly bad things have visited my doorstep, but it's all just one degree away, isn't it? Climate change, the never-ending assault on human rights, it's all everybody's problem even if we have the luxury of not recognizing it in real time. Not being lecture-y, here, just re-iterating that I'm aware that the comfort afforded me by existing as a middle class white woman in this society is at the expense of other people and if I'm not finding ways to get uncomfortable and push back on that, I'm part of the problem. Even if it's the right thing to do for everyone, it's with self-interest because if they can take fundamental rights away from one part of the population one day, well baby, it stands to reason that I'm in the queue. If you've had a conversation with me in the past few years, it's likely you've heard me say, "Safety is an illusion" and I'm just getting started in my career as a professional buzz kill. Invite me to all your parties! There's so much more to be said about that, so many others have said it better already, but I'm working on the ways I can meaningfully interact with people who disagree with me about what I believe is right (or who may fundamentally agree but don't know it yet) and that's my touchstone for the coming year. 

I won't rehash the past year, but I'd be remiss if I didn't pause and reflect on how much good was crammed in between now and the last time I atoned. I lead a very lucky life, full of love and abundance, and I'm grateful for every experience, every person who makes me be here now. I went into the specifics of that a bit in my last blog entry, and it's preposterous that there's so much to add to the roster in the month since. I will also say that there are two things beyond the joys of travel, live music, great food, creature comforts and being surrounded by the best people that elevated the past year and will be a boon in the new one:

1) Writing and the process of acquiring an agent. The grind continues, but the purposeful creative outlet is medicine.

2) Investing in good sleepwear. I'm not even kidding. I bought two of the most comfortable, soft, non-slipping-off nightgowns and I am an unapologetic nightgown mom now. Game. Changer. 

That's my Yom Kippur inspired missive. Here's a couple more scenes, for good measure.

 

Summer Stats

This summer has been a tumbling twirling swirl of  travel and activity (and sweat, dear god it was so hot), jam-packed with people and places and sights and sounds and flavors and I feel so grateful to have experienced it, but I don't know where to start writing about it. At some point there might be time for meaningful reflection, but to get the wheels turning I decided to make a list of what happened, where we went, what was consumed over the past few months. The stats are kind of jaw dropping, to me anyway. 

 

States visited: every one in New England, plus New Yawk.

 

Relatives seen: niece and all nephews, all siblings and sibs-in-law, parents and parents-in-law, grandmother plus a whopping majority of aunts, uncles and cousins. Friends who are family - not enough, but at least once. I held a baby for the first time whose mother was a baby I held, and that was pretty sweet.

 

Vacation-y things ingested:

homemade toast and jam

clams (steamed and fried)

oysters

lobster

lobster rolls

grilled octopus

fish on the grill

at least three forms of pasta 

many comfort foods from my childhood

pizza

ice cream

ice cream pie

beach snacks

all the cheese in the world

camp coffee and iced coffee, beer, gin & tonics, mimosas, white russians, manhattans, wine... you get the pic.

 

Outdoor stuff:

beaches and pools

camping, of course

campfires and cornhole tournaments

sunsets on the deck

a seven-mile road race on Cape Cod

sweltering city street walks

Central Park Zoo.

 

Cultural events attended:

two nights of Paul McCartney at Fenway Park

HR's play (his month of theater day camp was an absolute gift to our entire family)

a fun but soulless Hair production (our first time bringing our kid, a rite of passage)

Duran Duran with Chic at Madison Square Garden - I mean. Whoa.

 

New favorite hoodies acquired: 1

 

Books read:

at least 20, but not enough. Never enough.

This Time Tomorrow by Emma Straub was the best of the lot, in my opinion.

 

There was also:

a little bit of journaling

a whole glorious week without internet or reading the news

a funeral for a beloved great aunt

a birthday bash or two

some medical mishegas related to HR's celiac (he's fine, but a colonoscopy isn't exactly what you want to include in your "What I Did on My Summer Vacation" essay)

no writing or guitar playing or creative leaning in, but that's summer for you

some work (I do have a job, I swear!)

things I've forgotten or left out because there was just so much!

 

My kid started 7th grade yesterday, and this weekend we hope to close out the season where we kicked it off, on a boat on Little Sebago. Summer's not over technically, but spiritually it is and even though I'm booked out with fun things all the way through October still, I'm ready to wrap it up and calm down, to resume a sense of structure and routine. I look forward to staying put for a bit, and to fulfill my autumnal cravings for candles and coziness and sweaters and puzzles and books and movies and football and yoga and new TV series and writing and holiday planning and nesting and continuing to overhaul our house of 20 years and make it into what I've always wanted to be, aesthetically and organizationally. It's good to have a long term project, or a Quixotic pipe dream, depending on how you choose to look at it.

 

Any way you look at it, we had a ridiculous level of fun this summer and let it never be said I'm not grateful for the life I live.

 

Yes. And. No. But?

 

How to live a life not overwhelmed with despair when everything is literally on fire:

I have no idea. It's cute that you bought my authoritative tone for a second though. Maybe that's really all it comes down to, though. Faking it until you make it, or rather, what I think of as faking life is life as it really is by virtue of me living it. Yes, it's plague upon plague out here, societal ill after societal ill and we're not doing so great making sure the earth will even still be here to host the shitshow much longer. Yes, that's all true. AND it's also true that I can care about these things while I write something seemingly unimportant that makes me smile, even if nobody sees it. That feels real. And I can revel in seeing my kid doing something that makes him happy. And I can steal a weekend with old friends and if that seems like a balm, like an escapist defense against the ugly that's all around, it's because it is. Yes I can identify my tiny joys AND it's a victory, an act of defiance to claim them. Yes, the ocean is warming at a panic-inducing rate, AND I can spend time camped out and appreciating it for a dedicated spell, which is what I will do in the very near future. God willing and the creek don't rise, as my grandmother says. No, I apparently can't produce a coherent blog entry with a reliable through-line anymore but sometimes pushing the button on a half-baked product is better than nothing. 

Memo

Here's a note I wrote to myself:

 

blog - summer and creativity break; the funeral et al - the turtle 4th of july nah.

 

Translation: I want to write a blog post, but it's summer, my kid's camp hasn't started and I haven't arsed myself to cough up a damn word in weeks. Our beloved Great-Aunt Amelia passed away at 100 (and a half) and though we will miss her, she was at peace and her funeral was less of a weepy occasion and more of a triumph in her name, a celebration of someone who was made from love and who was loved double in return by all of those whose lives she touched. It was a magical experience to be surrounded by the people who shaped me, even if I am fully tired of people now. My grandmother is now the last of nine siblings, and I can't even fathom how that feels in general, even if you could separate it from the fact that she and Amelia saw each other every single day. There was some metaphor I was trying to make about this gigantic turtle that we narrowly missed running over when we were driving up 95 to get to Maine last week, but I don't quite have it. 

 

"4th of july nah" has been my position on our national holiday for years, but especially this one and I don't think I need to spell out why. 

 

Be safe out there baby cakeses! 

 

 

1000 words

I haven't been around in awhile, you know how it is. 

Mother's Day was cute. 

I had a great concert experience, seeing Gang of Youths, my favorite band of the last decade. 

I knew it was during a surge and I wore my KN95! Still... got COVID.

I did OK with it, and thankfully didn't pass it on to anyone as far as I know, but my kid did test positive for the flu that's been going around and was sicker than I've ever seen him. He's fine now, but it was a rough few days.

I was at a stoplight behind this person I thought, man what an asshole. I needed to take a picture so I could parse it later, the many ways that harm was intended and the loudness of it, the inherent contradictions and willful pride. 

That day was May 24th. HR was still home recovering when the reports started coming in from Texas, and I was grateful to have him in my eyesight and I didn't know how to tell him. His school was supposed to have a lockdown drill 2 days later and they had already canceled it out of respect for the trauma in Buffalo. I hope they're canceled forever for all the good they do. We can't keep doing this to our kids. 

I'm still writing for myself and trying to make sense of things. Too many things, too much pain. I push it away, I immerse myself in it. I'm still looking at that picture and it still boggles my mind. We are sick, and yet we have to try to live. To take joy from where we can get it. To fight for what's right. Fight for our little dumb lives because they mean something, or, if they don't mean anything, what's the point in not burning it all down? Anyway, that's where I've been.

 

There is Thunder In Our Hearts

I had my first colonoscopy last week (welcome to my late 40s!). All was fine, I don't have to do that again for 10 years, huzzah etc. When I was doing the work-up with the lovely anesthesiologist, he asked if I had any surgeries in my history. I said yes, I had a D & E over a decade ago. "An abortion," he said. I was taken aback. It wasn't his delivery,  which was matter of fact and without judgment. It's just that, though the fetal extraction procedure is no different in medical terms, the operation was deemed medically necessary because of a miscarried pregnancy that wouldn't naturally eject from the body. 

 

Sure I was heartbroken about the loss of the baby that Mike and I wanted so very much, and that means something to me, but what struck me more, and has only been amplified in this particularly tumultuous week, is how fucked we all are. How in danger. How slippery the slope is and nobody is safe, even if those in the protected states think we are above it all.

 

I want to be clear about what I'm saying here: abortion should always be legal for any reason. Nobody should stay pregnant against their will and it's a matter of health between a woman (or a transgender man or non-binary person who can become pregnant) and their doctor. Period. A lot of people don't believe the same for whatever their reasons, and that's their right to believe, but it shouldn't infringe upon anyone else's rights, or on the security and privacy, the autonomy that should be guaranteed, in one's own body. My experience with the anesthesiologist threw into the stark light that, in other states right now, women like me can be investigated and arrested for getting the procedure I got (or for miscarrying at all), even if it was for the same reason I got it. The people who would eradicate legal abortion do not make distinction for intentions or feelings. It doesn't matter if the mother's life is at risk (again, I don't believe it has to be a matter of life and death in order to justify an abortion, nor would I be ashamed if I aborted a pregnancy on purpose. I'm just using an example of how extreme it gets). They'll stop at nothing to be in control and even if we think we're safe in these protected states, that's an illusion and what's more, even if we are indeed safe, we should care about the eroding human rights for everyone. It's that simple. The right to an abortion goes, what's next? Everything's fair game. This is why we're scared and angry. This is why we fight.

 

Happy Mother's Day!