AI

Most accurate redundancy ever recorded in human history:

Cast of “The View” discussing artificial intelligence.

Duck Tape

Who was the first person who decided to put cutesy cartoon characters on duct tape? If you ask me, it makes it more sinister, not less.

Why is duct tape so creepy?

I try to catch up on academic articles and literary journal essays on the weekends, and I was recently having trouble getting through this particularly obscure piece. I was not connecting with it even after several attempts, and ready to call it quits. Suddenly the phrase “duct tape over his mouth,” appeared, and I perked right up

“Ooh,” I thought, diving back in. “Whose mouth is getting duct taped and why?” I climbed back into the piece to find out.

Can you think of one good, happy reason that duct tape would be used? We use scotch tape to wrap gifts. Masking tape to hang cheerful posters. Packing tape to secure moving boxes. But duct tape always seems to cover mouths, broken car windows, and wall cracks.

My wall cracks.

I had a squirrel living in my foyer ceiling almost all winter, and into spring. It’s a long story I’m not ready to share in its entirety. Needless to say, whenever it gnawed a new spot into the ceiling, we applied duct tape to that spot. Then it would search for a new vulnerability, and gnaw that area. Duct tape. Gnaw. Duct tape.

I eventually ran out, and bought some cute duct tape with frogs on it. It didn’t make the situation any cuter.

The squirrel has expired, but now my foyer walls and parts of the ceiling are covered in frog-emblazoned duct tape. And as you might have guessed, when I peel it away, the artisan paint and dry wall comes with it.

Oi.

Know a good painter?

Going Mobile?

Thank God the sun is back out. What with this stormy weather all I’ve wanted to do is watch AMC Fright Fest, read decorating magazines, light pumpkin candles and drink tea. I’m leaving for Ohio in two weeks, ya’ll, so I not only have a pretty imposing writing deadline to meet, but a boat to store for the season, and a house to ready for Halloween.

So time to be productive.

One good thing about the snuggly weather is that I did manage to finish the Jeffrey Dahmer series on Netflix. Good stuff. But it pains me that there is still no park or memorial built on the site of the apartment building to honor the victims.

But this morning I thought about it. If such atrocities occurred in my town, would I want a sign reminding people of the sexual and violent nature of the events? Hard to say. But I still think a patch of grass with a sign inscribed with their names would be nice. They don’t have to mention Dahmer, or the crimes. Just the names.

But I digress.

I am going to post blogs for two more weeks, and then I will try and post while I’m in Ohio. But I feel a change coming on. My website and domain name will remain the same, but I think it’s time for a format change, and for me to do what I’ve always said I would do:

Be a platform for widows. A place where they can receive advice, help and support. So Chrysalis Collective may be going on the road in the near future, with me along for the ride.

I think I’ve done everything I can do here. I have more readers than ever, so thank you if you’re still reading. But it’s time to be of use where it matters, I think.

I’ll keep you updated. Have a great weekend.

Widow

During my TED talk in April of 2022, I discussed how widows are negatively stereotyped in the media. You know, that we constantly wear black (definitely me), that we’re always confused and depressed (yeah, right) and that we are most certainly are out to steal everyone’s husbands (seriously?)  I actually don’t care much about stereotypes, but when one does a TED talk, one must transmit an air of seriousness and mild outrage.

And it has recently come to my attention that Spirit of Halloween has joined in the fray. Their new advertised animatronic called the Widow, features this tagline:

Hell hath no fury like a scorned woman! When she caught her cheating husband with her sister on October 30, it gave a whole new definition to mischief night. Let’s just say dragging two bodies from the bedroom to the local lake can put a crick in anyone’s neck – that plus tripping on the roots of a Cyprus tree and tumbling down the muddy hill and breaking your neck. So now, when anyone in town hears a twig snap, they jump in fear that The Widow and her broken neck are there to take them to a watery grave.

You’ll make all the heads in the neighborhood turn once you add The Widow animatronic to your Halloween display. Standing at five feet eight inches tall with a neck that viciously snaps when activated, you don’t want to be in the path of this widow when she goes berserk. You’ll never forget the sounds of The Widow once you hear her hysterical cries of screaming and laughter for yourself. 

She’s fabulous. Times I have actually looked like this:

  • When there are maggots crawling in the trashcans feasting on leftover wings that my sons did not dispose of properly.
  • When I catch up on laundry and the boys throw all of their dirty towels into the laundry room.
  • When I hear the phrase “social media presence.”
  • When someone sits in my favorite church pew before I arrive to mass.
  • When friends visit, and I am forced to sit on the beach.

I won’t be in New Jersey for Halloween, but I’m getting her. Visit my yard and take a gander. May my sons do her proud.

Vibing

One of the cardinal rules of blogging is never to tell your readers how busy you are, because it implies you’re too busy for them. So I won’t use that as an excuse for not posting on Wednesday.

But posting on Wednesdays has proven to be challenging this summer. So there is that.

Until next week, I’m tired. The delicious kind of tired, when every bone and sinew in your body knows you have finished your week at the most optimally positive and productive way possible.

Great week, ya’ll.

So enjoy this video, my newest favorite song to sing on my way to work to get my daily vibe going. More on that later.

Have a great time this weekend.

Bits and Bobs

Housekeeping:

Beach time. It might pain beach lovers to know that I have yet to sit on the beach this summer. I’ve walked on it, and looked at it from the boat, I’ve even jumped in the water. But I haven’t sat on the beach yet. I keep rationalizing myself out of it, and reminding myself how incredibly bored I get sitting on my duff when I could be being productive. But Friday is my day. Wish me luck. My goal is to last two hours.

British Open. I watched Saturday’s rounds, but not Sunday’s. On Sundays I attend church and then leave the island for the day for personal reasons, so I walked in the door just as Cam Smith was receiving his trophy. Of course we were traumatized that Rory didn’t win. We were routing for him. He had it. He deserved it. He earned it. But words cannot articulate how happy I am that Cam Smith won. One day I will post more about him. What a fantastic kid.

Things I’m loving now. My new light blue clogs from Free People. The Nordstrom Anniversary sale. My job. Wegman’s vegetable egg rolls. Sorry, this is a sucky list, but I’m trying real hard to make sure I post on Wednesdays, and it’s not easy.

Enjoy the heat and humidity, you reptiles.

Huh?

Huh?

I was watching a movie where the protagonist collapses from a heart attack, and someone yells, “Quick, is there a doctor here?” The doctor rushes over, pushes friends and family out of the way, to kneel at the patient’s side. It was a dramatic cinematic moment, and it made me think what situations would necessitate someone yelling for me, as in “Please, is there an English teacher here?! This is an emergency!”

How about when New Jersey teenagers are using the word “like” every third word?

“Like, I know he, like, heard me, but, like, I’m not sure, like, what my grade is going to be, because, like, he’s not combining the homework, with the, like, classwork grades, so like, I’m, like, confused, as to what, like, to do, like.”

Commencement addresses? Instagram posts? How about whenever Kamala Harris opens her mouth to utter her moronic word salads?

(Kamala, you’re a disaster, and an embarrassment. Please fire your Communications’ Director, and call me. I can help you. Please stop talking, for the love of God).

Huh?

Tomorrow is International Widow’s Day. This is a cause I believe in deeply, and one day plan to be more involved with. I am conducting research with a research group that conducts interviews with underserved, unseen, unsupported, and unmeasured widows all over the world. If you’re interested, or if you have ever treated a widow like she is a big, dumb, useless, stupid idiot, feel free to get yourself educated. Here’s the website:

https://www.un.org/en/observances/widows-day

Huh?

If a piece of clothing has a tag on it that is a little book, telling the story of the manufacturer and her family and her genetic line, run, don’t walk. It’s too expensive. I was drawn to a cute nautical tank top in Nordstrom with this kind of tag, and the tank top was $395. You did not read that wrong. $400 for a tank top and a little tag book about Rag and Bone clothing.

Huh?

Wobbly Bits

Monthly housekeeping:

I know my recent posts have sucked, you think I don’t know that? To explain why would require me to discuss energy, and vibration, and deposits of joy and passion in the workplace, and I don’t discuss work related topics on my blog. Sorry. If you’re still reading, and haven’t died of boredom, posts should start getting back to normal. Depending how you define “normal.”

My response to the Amber Heard and Johnny Depp trial? Just this: toxic femininity exists right alongside toxic masculinity. Watching Amber taken to task on a global stage was very satisfying, and I think it best if I leave it there. But know this: if a woman tries to ruin a man’s life by accusing him falsely, she deserves to get the shit smacked out of her, the way the Hulk smacked the shit out of Loki in “The Avengers.” Note to Amber: you got the shit smacked out of you, now put the shit on your own bed and don’t forget to lie in it.

The school shooting: please forgive me, but: the violence in our country is going to get worse, and worse, and worse. What did we expect? We can’t take children, adolescents and young adults, many of whom already have compromised mental health, away from their friends, schools, sports, activities, coaches, teachers and counselors for almost two years, and expect there to be no repercussions. You folks who loved the lockdowns and the masks, what did you expect to happen? Many children were locked in their houses with alcoholics, abusers and monsters, and they suffered physical, emotional and mental abuse. Now you expect them to smile and play nice? IT’S NOT ABOUT GUNS. It’s about mental illness. That’s like saying drunk driving accidents are about cars, and not alcoholics. Wake up.

My paring knives keep disappearing. I can’t figure it out. Where do they go? I’m up to twelve lost paring knives in two years. It’s very vexing.

Have a good weekend.

Hey Ho

Hi! Some news:

Due to my work and travel schedule this summer, I have decided to reduce my blog posts to only three a week- Monday, Wednesday and Friday, beginning next week. I’ll see how it goes, and make a decision in the fall as whether to keep that schedule or go back to five a week. For now, a blog a day simply isn’t possible.

If you’re still checking in every day as we move towards two full years of publishing, thanks, and see you tomorrow for a post about crime dramas.