100% goal suckage, but...

Happy birthday to Tony Hawk, who is apparently 58 today. (Next thing, you'll be telling me Eddie Vedder is 61.)

Funders, stop requiring line-item budget reports and variance explanations.

I subscribe to this Facebook group, Nonprofit Happy Hour, where nonprofit workers can post anonymous things like "where can I post XYZ position we desperately need" and "how are you dealing with {gestures wildly}" and "seriously, how much time do you all spend fighting with a printer?" and "I'm kinda at this point, you guys..." and "I got a grant, woot!"

I also read this blog regularly, which includes blog post titles like the subject line above, even though I'm not really working for a nonprofit anymore.

Nonprofits are terrible business models. Please love and support those you believe in. That is all. 

Goooooaaaaaaallllll(s).

I may not be killing it on the "publish something here 3 times/week" goal, but I am writing other important work-related things more than three times a week. For a job that is supposed to be heavily numbers-based, I am counting that as a win. But I will keep trying on Goal #1.

As mentioned, I did not care for my book group's January book. I ended up appreciating it more after the discussion, but I still don't like or recommend it.

February was my month to lead the discussion. (Yes, I declared Goal #2 knowing that I was already 1/3 of the way there. What of it?) It was a fun/interesting read and a fun discussion, especially because someone brought their friend who had been a stewardess back when they called them stewardesses, and boy, did she have some stories to tell. 

On Monday night, I finished the book for March - a heavy, somewhat meandering read. I can see why Wally Lamb endorsed it.

Goal #2 - check.

Last weekend I buckled down and rooted through the chest freezer for all the frozen tomatoes from 2022-2023. Turns out, there were only a handful of gallon freezer bags left - two that were already roasted and three that were frozen cherry tomatoes. (Yes, you can just freeze cherry tomatoes. They have to be used in sauces or stews, but they are totally freeze-able.)

So, I pulled out my favorite tomato soup recipe, roasted the cherry tomatoes, threw them in with the already roasted tomatoes and other ingredients, and in two hours we had grilled cheese with tomato soup, and about 5 cups of soup leftover to freeze.

Goal #3 - check.

And I still have a month to go. [Pats self on back.]

Mind melding.

In an eerie series of pop culture-related events, I have recently had the following experiences.

Experience #1: For the last three weeks, I've been composing a post in my head titled "We didn't start the fire." The gist was a summary of the literal dumpster fire of our current world and country, my admiration for Sarah Marshall committing to learning every word to the Billy Joel song, and some sort of summary of how we all must persevere because what else is there...?

I thought the concept of the post was kinda clever. I was actually pretty excited about writing it. But I went down too many internet rabbit holes looking for a link to prove that I had once heard Sarah Marshall say she had committed to learning every word to "We Didn't Start the Fire." I never actually found internet proof, but by the time I resurfaced, I had given up on persevering because holy shit, y'all looked around lately? So thank you, kind person, for doing my job for me. I only wish I'd seen this three weeks ago - I could've saved myself a lot of time. 

Experience #2: One of my favorite podcasts is NPR's Pop Culture Happy Hour. Approximately 95% of the time, I have no idea what or who they are talking about (I'm old, we don't have a TV, our local movie theater leans toward Jesus movies, etc., etc.), but this is one of my favorite podcasts for a few reasons:

• The podcasts are short enough that I can listen to an entire episode on one leg of my commute. 
• There is always so much camaraderie, laughter, and casual, friendly banter amongst the hosts. 
• They occasionally introduce me to new pop culture or validate my thoughts on pop culture things I am familiar with and did not really enjoy.
• But really, it's the first bullet that lands them as one of my favorite podcasts. A 33 minute commute isn't a joke, folks. 

My ride home tonight featured a pop culture "Hill You Will Die On" theme. Candice presented a verrrrrry complicated and amusing hill involving Timothée Chalamet, Tom Cruise, and the road to success. Stephen and Glen presented hills about certain songs needing to be retired forever (agree) and boss battles in video games adding nothing (no comment). And then Aisha presented her hill, and dear lord did it speak to me.

For over twenty years, I have theorized that music venues need to section off areas for the following:

• Short people. (They get the front. I'd honestly pay a dollar or two more for this, much like tall people have to pay for extra leg room on airplanes.)
• Tall people. (They get the middle.)
• People who don't care about the band and are just there because their friend/partner/spouse dragged them along. (They get the back.)
• People who want to talk to their friends the whole time. (They get the waaaaay back.)

This is due, in large part, to the PROVEN FACT that 95% of the time I go to a concert, the tallest person in the room makes their way across the floor to stand directly in front of me. It's laughable how predictable it is, at this point. 

So anyway, I'm driving home thinking this would be a cool thing to think about for a blog post to meet my writing goals (ahem don't look at me like that), and all that kept popping into my head as my "hill" was my theory above. And then Aisha nailed. So, thank you Aisha, for doing my job for me.

In solidarity.

You know how you go to a concert of 500, or 5,000, or 50,000 people, and the band plays a song that everyone knows the words to, and everyone sings along, and you get tears in your eyes because it's such a beautiful feeling? 

That's why I wanted to watch the Superbowl yesterday.

Our world is so divided right now, in a really nasty way. My community is divided and it shows. Most recent case in point: Saturday night, we went with friends to see Milk in the same theater that hosted a TPUSA event a few weeks ago. We expected the theater to be full given recent anti-Pride events at a county commission meeting, and the outpouring of community support that ensued. The TPUSA event was packed - sold out, I'm told. There were about 12 people in the theater for Milk. (OK, maybe that's not a fair example seeing as how we did walk out of Milk quite depressed, but... you get the point.)

I spent the weekend catching up on volunteer activities for a few service clubs I'm involved with, writing postcards, and hanging with some good people. That was necessary... But yesterday I wanted more.

So we signed up for a free trial of YouTube TV and watched the television event 125M other people were watching. We rooted for Seattle. We groaned at the AI commercials. We ate nachos. We got bored during the third quarter but got back into it during the fourth (that's normal, right?). We watched some of the Olympics afterward.

And yes, we loved the halftime show. 

It felt nice to be doing something nostalgic, something familiar, something communal.

Today I'll go back to raging against [gestures broadly at everything]. But at least I'll be able to talk about the game with folks at work...

In like a lion.

So much for a less doozy-filled 2026.

I have had to write and re-write this post several times over the last week, because the lion just keeps roaring.

I think that for now, I will just provide a link to this song and wish you all a happy Sunday.

An ode to the Trio.

Every December, our book club gets together to recommend the next year of books. We each bring 1-2 and do a mini "book report," and then get a certain number of playing cards to put on the books we'd most like to read.

January usually gets the short straw because we meet on the first Wednesday, and tend to pick the quickest read as the first book. This year was no different - the group chose Mornings Without Mii by Mayumi Inaba. I am usually all about Japanese books about cats, but I absolutely cannot recommend this book. I disliked it so much that I don't even want to talk about it on Wednesday. 

But I will go, and I will talk about it, and to get my mind off it between now and then I present three tributes to our furballs. 

BABs (bad-ass bernie):

you barrel through the cat door

like cosmo kramer

hank, or hank the tank:

timid but affectionate,

solid as a rock

old man sir simon:

slowing down as the years pass

still such a presence