I have nothing useful to say in the present moment; the 9th anniversary of my mother’s death was the day the leaked Roe decision came out. I set up a recurring donation to the abortion fund a local clinic partners with (a clinic I wouldn’t have known was there except that my dentist is in the same building and there are always 40 days of life assholes out in front, so, thanks for the free ads, you jags), I’m reading about what other countries have done, I’m making sure my implant is in place, I’m moping and trying to figure out what sadness is helpful versus unhelpful. I was traveling for work on the day all of this happened, and remain selfishly irritated at how this has dampened my joy at a truly phenomenal hotel room upgrade experience.
Today at work, our HR department posted an announcement saying that we can use our reproductive assistance stipend (thanks, tech) to pay for an abortion for ourselves our our dependents, which was pretty fucking cool by the standards of corporate HR announcements.
We live in a country that’s being held hostage by senile cowards and religious zealots. Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about about Cory Doctorow’s book Radicalized, which I like a lot. I used to think a lot about the lead story, which is about a group of poor people in a subsidized apartment complex jailbreaking their DRM-hobbled ovens. Recently, I’ve been thinking more about the story in which a man whose wife nearly dies from cancer treatment being held up by health insurance winds up radicalizing a bunch of other men in a support group and they start suicide bombing health insurance companies. (When I’m in a good mood I think about the end story, where there is an Event and the rich dipshit who founds an over-armored bunker dies of dysentery after chasing off the people outside who are trying to help him; the people outside eventually recover from the Event through cooperation. It’s not a subtle book. Buy shit for my friend Eva’s mutual aid work to unhoused people in LA.)
Shit to read
I love the big beautiful horse framing from Swole Woman. As a former Horse Kid, I am more able to give myself and my body some compassion when thinking of myself as a Big Beautiful Horse than I am through any other mechanism. It’s easier to not care that I have gained a bunch of weight during the pandemic when I can think about how I can now squat nearly 200 lbs because if I am a Big Beautiful Horse, that’s my job. Nobody yells at a clydesdale for being big. It’s a big beautiful horse.
This article about why American chips are awful made me irrationally angry! Why can’t we have nice things! (I don’t care about this with chip flavors as much, but why are all our candy options horseshit. I want the good import kitkats.)
Loved this article on the invention of the sports bra. Also jesus I canNOT imagine having to run in a regular bra, particularly in an era when the available regular bra technology wasn’t any good.
This piece from Amanda Mull on how much of the fitness industry just is absolutely not oriented towards people who are trying to learn fitness skills felt very resonant to me, a person who showed up to my power lifting gym only after months of encouragement from my sister and others that the power lifters weren’t going to be mean to me. (They aren’t; my coach is just the absolute best.) American culture in general seems so averse to teaching people to be good at things that they don’t start at as a baseline level of good—it’s completely perverse that we don’t think of like math ability as a learned skill versus an innate aptitude.
Shit to eat
Go to Utah on business.
See on a breakfast menu that your hotel offers something called an “avalanche biscuit”.
Order that, because it’s supposed to be a biscuit with some meat and an egg and gravy and cheese, all things you like.
What arrives will absolutely exceed your expectations. It will be between four and six biscuits, half a package of sausage on top of it, absolutely covered by a circle of scrambled eggs, bathed in gravy, coated in a wall-to-wall blanket of melted cheese.
You’ll eat half of it, obviously. You’re not a monster.
Shit to watch
My hotel room has a hot tub (it was a really nice upgrade) and I have spent all week trying to figure out how the fuck the hot tub cover lifter works.
Shit to buy
This is a request from me, but does anybody have a smart door lock they like a lot?
As someone who has had her gallbladder removed and didn’t digest food well at the best of times, I am absolutely ride or die for my home bidet. In advance of the trip I am currently on, I sprung for a motorized travel bidet and it’s a delight. Truly I have never felt less gross while traveling than I do now.