The Ratbirds Win!

My belly is still mysteriously full of wings, my football team made the Steelers look atrocious, and last night, my friends were nice enough to play Carly Rae Jepsen on the car ride home from seeing Tegan and Sara (!). It’s been a wonderfully lazy and unproductive weekend, which is a nice way to end a mostly unremarkable week. Getting normal hours of sleep + working out three times a week = the easiest way to stem off FEELINGS. I’m into it. 

Last week I started watching The Good Wife, but this week is when I got REALLY into it. (As in, when people are like, “What did you do this week,” I have to remember that watching eight episodes of The Good Wife is not an appropriate answer). I’m 10 years late to the show, but that doesn’t take me love it any less. It’s 45 minutes of smart ladies kicking ass and saving the world by doing things like READING VERY CLOSELY and BEING VERY ARGUMENTATIVE and even ASKING GOOD QUESTIONS — this is what I want from all of my TV shows. I promise it’s more interesting that I’m making it sound. Could there be more kissing? Yes, but it’s still a great self-esteem boost, so I’ll take it. 

This week, I also read  Nameplate Necklaces: This Shit Is for Us, which I loved.

"Nameplates have always leapt off the chests of black and brown girls who wear them; they’re an unequivocal and proud proclamation of our individuality, as well as a salute to those who gave us our names. The necklaces are a response to gas-station bracelets and department-store mugs emblazoned with names like Katie and Becky. But most of all, they’re a flashy and pointed rejection of the banality of white affluence"

My grandparents died when I was very young, and they lived in Peru, so I never really knew them. One of the few gifts I have from my grandfather is a nameplate bracelet, given to me when I was born. It’s tiny and barely fits over two of my fingers; his intention was always to buy me a larger chain, when I was finally a grownup. I really like the idea of claiming your name twice in your life, in the flashiest way possible.  

This week has also involved a lot of election stressing. What am I even going to do when the election is over and I don't care about Politico anymore? (Watch more of The Good Wife, duh). Will the apocalypse happen next Tuesday? Who knows, but if it does, it won't be my fault, because I'm voting. And you should too. 

Words written this week: 800 (Again!!! :( But I wrote 1200 words for a research paper, so my keyboard is still working, just not my creativity, I guess.)