Today, I have a track record of 2,500 days of alcohol-free hydration. In May I will celebrate 7 years of sobriety, but since I’m greeted by a day counter whenever I look at my phone, I couldn’t resist a moment of reflection. 2024 was a year of experimentation. I decided to go for the mocktail option during a handful of date nights, and even drank alcohol-free wine at church. In a moment of company-wide celebration I tasted non-alcoholic champagne. (Continue)

I made it home after seven nights at the hospital! Staying there between Christmas and New Year’s really wasn’t as horrible as you’d imagine. I figured: if anything happens, I’m already at the hospital, anyway. Still, I should confess that I was excited to be released from the presence of my hospital neighbor, a dentureless elderly woman with severe bowel problems whose sounds were revolting. If you’re wondering how petty I am for focusing on that instead of my own fracture-related infection, imagine what Anja’s life is like. (Continue)

I’m surprised we made it through Disclaimer, though that’s not entirely true, because both Anja and I would have a hard time quitting anything that involves the acting of Cate Blanchett. Looking back, I feel our experience was exactly as intended (even though author’s intent may well be the most boring of analytical categories in the study of media.)

The show’s disclaimers, both diegetic and non-diegetic, kept me thinking they’re such pedestrian vehicles for spoiling. “Sometimes, meaning can only be conveyed through the shock of the unexpected”, I thought. Still, throughout the show, the disclaimers made me interpret and reinterpret and misinterpret “depictions of sexual, physical, and emotional violence” in ways I thought I had somehow transcended by now.

The series has left me feeling uncomfortably unsophisticated.

Disclaimer is one of those beautiful examples of a terror that can only be rightly experienced once, upon the first viewing, much like Irréversible and Antichrist. I keep thinking “well, I could’ve done with a bit more foreshadowing and character development around the twist”. In all honestly, though, I say this to myself only to alleviate the discomfort I feel as I imagine myself Sacha Baron Cohen in a hospital chair, guilty and bewildered, hearing perhaps the saddest of realities about myself.

In the evenings, we’re continue our journey with Better Call Saul (2015-2022). Midway through season 3, it’s finally beginning to get a firm grip on our attention span again. I loved the debut of Gus Fring, the way he lingers in the background, out of focus, voiceless, before landing, so to speak. I find this one of the finest roles in television history. Less reading this week. Struggling with discernment this week: what do I do when following Jesus when it gets hard interferes with my boundaries and sense of safety Beaming at work Beaming at home Sunday is amazing. (Continue)

This week, I attended my first Gerimedica party. It’s great to know I can expect a big celebration every year, and not just for the company’s sweet sixteen. It confirmed what I already know: great vibe, great taste, great people. I went to Bar Bario on Saturday for a meet-up called Hair Haven, which fosters connection between people with curly hair. Again, I was struck by how welcoming the space is. (Continue)

I got to meet one of my Internet heroes this week: Patrick Rhone and his family were on a Europe trip, and I was lucky enough to catch the planning stage on his blog right in time to extend an invitation. We spent a rainy Monday evening in de Jordaan at Cafe de Tuin, talking ye olde Internet productivity culture, the arts, politics, hopes and dreams, and how his teenage daughter apparently woke up one night singing “raise a glass to freedom”. (Continue)

Liked https://www.nytimes.com/2023/03/11/arts/television/brett-goldstein-ted-lasso-hercules.html