January: Earworms

I have started listening to YouTube Music occasionally, to see if a subscription to it -- rather than Pandora Radio -- would be useful or if I would end up with the same type of mix either way.

YouTube seems to think that I'm a very angsty teenager, though. (How much overlap is there between angsty teenager and tired middle-aged woman? Is there more than I realize? Oh dear.) 

It's serving up songs such as the following:

Exile (Taylor Swift). I'm not a Swifty, but this one is growing on me. 

Don't Put It All On Me (Noah Cyrus).  Which, well, that's an earworm for sure.

On the other hand: could we have a few more upbeat bops, please? 

Like this: APT (Rose and Bruno Mars). It's complete fluff and eminently dance-able. I need more of this. 

Let's see what more we get in the weeks ahead.

January: Manteca Nightmares

 I experienced a charming \sarcasm font\ bit of shaming a couple of days ago. 

I had a routine annual appointment with the cardiologist. I was not particularly worried about the appointment; he's (normally) a very kind man, everything usually goes smoothly. I had my lab results from the end of October of 2025 -- and according to my primary care physician (who had already reviewed them with me in November), everything was fine.

Dr. Cardiologist had different thoughts, though.  He breezed in with a student doctor, whom I welcomed (I'm always a fan of student doctors learning on the job) and commented right off the bat that he was concerned about my triglycerides. (Which, admittedly, are a bit high, though my primary care doctor was not concerned.)

He turned from the computer where the numbers were displayed, looked at me, and asked, "Did you eat a lot of grease over the holidays?" 

Well, Jesus H. Christ riding a bicycle. 

I got stuck momentarily in figuring out how to answer because 1) my labs were from before the holidays and 2) no, I don't normally eat a lot of fatty foods (I do tend to eat simple/processed sugars, especially when migraine-y, and that too can raise triglycerides). Was I supposed to answer either of those things? Probably not.  

I resorted to, "Well, I ate a lot of feelings over the holidays."  Which, putting you on notice that LIFE IS F*CKING HARD RIGHT NOW, SIR, PERHAPS A MODICUM OF TACT MIGHT GET YOU FURTHER. 

I wonder what the student doctor thought? Or if he noticed how horrified I was? Dr. Cardiologist did not, or if he did, pretended not to. 

Dr. Cardiologist instead glossed over my response and followed up his condescending question by asking if I'd ever had a stress test. Which, no.  We went over the whys and hows and whens of a stress test (there was more ick in that discussion, but I was still stuck on the grease).  He concluded with, if the stress test was fine, we'd just have to make sure I ATE LESS GREASE, and walked me out to the scheduling cubicles.  

The whole thing took maybe 3 minutes. 

I am still stunned. 

Horrified.

What does he think, that I'm just sitting in a corner with my spoon and a tub of manteca? And is making his point that way, really the best way to do it? In front of a student doctor? What was he teaching them, exactly? 

Whatever his intentions, he succeeded at one thing. I have felt shame about every single food item I have put in my mouth since then, and it has in fact resulted in my eating less. Well done, Doctor - you have turned slightly disordered overeating into vague orthorexia, just through the use of the word grease.

The stress test will be fine. And it'll be good to have a baseline and to address any concerns. 

In the meantime, I will chew on my shame. 

January: Boat Show

 I went to a boat show. (Can you guess where I was yet?)  So many boats.  It was in many ways much like attending an RV show, except water instead of wheels, and more often wood instead of composite. 

My takeaway from the boat show: I finally understood Cherished Friend's Boat Dream. 

I have supported his Boat Dream for a long time -- it is his dream and important to him, and so it is important to me. But I finally UNDERSTAND why it is his Dream, what the Dream is all about, and what steps are needed to truly bring it to fruition. 

It makes sense. 

-----

In many ways, Cherished Friend is much like my college physics class: I feel like I am on the cusp of understanding him, and that if I ask just enough questions, or just the right questions, I will finally -- finally! -- be enlightened. 

I may never truly know anything. But at least as far as the Boat Dream goes, it's clear why it exists. 

January Eats: Octopus Chicharrones

Beloved Husband and I tried out a new restaurant. On the menu: Octopus Chicharrones. 

Sounds: questionable.

Was: delicious. 

January: Sometimes It Really Is Fun and Games

I do enjoy a good Scrabble game. My goal, with my Scrabble companion (who absolutely excels at the game), is to lose by fewer than 100 points. 

509 to 345. I lost. By more than 100 points. 

389 to 362. I lost. By fewer than 100 points!

330 to 350. I actually won this one! It was a very close game.

279 to 273. A low-scoring game, though once more a close game. I lost. 

342 to 217. I lost. By more than 100 points. Again. 

It was all just delightful.

January: Political Hell

The political situation: it's Hell. On toast. 

Alienation of allies and rhetoric about trying to take over other countries (!?!?). Kidnapping and murder of people by ICE. Shocking rudeness and unseemly behavior by numerous politicians. Changing of the recommended vaccine schedule which will ultimately result in the resurgence of preventable diseases, and simultaneously, a tremendous uptick in the cost of health insurance that might put it out of reach for thousands of people. Leaving the World Health Organization. Shutting down/dismantling vital departments in the government, cutting funding to necessary programs. Deliberate antagonism and punishment of people who disagree or who don't toe the party line. Neo-nazis. 

A nightmare. We are a laughingstock country. 

I cannot with all of this. It makes my (still a bit precarious) mental health shrivel. I want to take action, I feel powerless and wretchedly sad. 

Save us. 

January: WHAT ON EARTH (or not) ARE WE READING?

 I asked Audible for recommendations for books to add to my library, and it provided the following options: 

Look closely at the bottom one, can you see it? Let me read the title out loud to you:

THE COMMANDER'S CAPTIVE (AN ALIEN BREEDER ROMANCE)

A billion times NO, Audible. GOOD GRAVY.

I am not at all sure where the algorithm went awry. I do not read romance novels, for Reasons; I do not read books that involve slavery/capture/against-one's-will themes (consent, freely given, is the only option); and I most definitely do not read novels that include breeder themes (three pregnancies and difficult deliveries were plenty and I have no desire to romanticize them or re-live the idea, thank you very much). I don't read smut, again, for Reasons. In fact, I'll actively avoid books that include any of these themes. 

Gah. I feel like I need to go wash. I'll go back to my very dry, cerebral, and non-physical Sherlock Holmes audiobook now. 

January: Kitty-Sitting

 Offspring the Third's kitties are visiting. MEOW MEOW.

They are good kitties, and are always happy to see me at the end of the day when I come home from work. They do tend to step on my hair when I am sleeping, and sing the song of their people in the wee hours. And barf periodically. But who can blame them? I like company, and have occasional digestive upset, too. 

Good girls.

 

January: A Summary in Memes

January: Let's Play Catch-up

 Herself speaks.

Hello, lovely Readers! It's been... a bit.  Here we are in the third week of January already - this month has seemed both endless and incredibly speedy. 

I thought about writing one long post to cover all of the ground and bring us up to date, but that seemed like it would be unduly complex and meandering. And so, I present to you: a series of posts, gathered by topic, to summarize how the New Year has been. 

Here we go.

Sandra Boynton is the most magnificent artist/author.

I love her creativity.