Happy New Year!

Hard to believe that it’s already January 5th, 2021. I’d say “Time flies when you’re having fun,” but while it’s only been 4 months since my last post, it feels like a year at least.

Living through this pandemic and the political shenanigans of the day is exhausting. The absolute fire hose of relevant information about the virus and “WTAF” stories regarding law and politics is tough to endure simultaneously. It takes real effort not to tune all of it out, since most of the really awful shit is stuff I personally have no ability to affect. Since March, 365,000+ Americans have died of COVID-19, police officers still have qualified immunity and frequently kill folks (especially Black folks) with impunity, and the concentration camps still exist with almost no oversight.

Tomorrow is January 6th. That’s the day Congress is supposed to officially declare Biden as our next president. It’s also the date of a planned protest to “Stop the Steal” in D.C. Nutjobs on the far right insist that their candidate won, despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary, and these same folks, who call themselves “patriots” and claim to love America, are beating the drums of violence and clamoring for civil war.

Like, settle down, guys. Biden will definitely pander to the oligarchy too. Don’t go lighting yourselves on fire to stop other poor people from having food or medicine. We all know how important it is to you for Bezos to get a new super yacht, but it’s not worth all this. He isn’t gonna share it.

On a personal note, which is most likely why you’re even reading this, Adam, the kids, and I are all doing alright. My neurologist has confirmed that my MS is still stable. (6 years, no progression!) I’ve joined a writing group that is meeting once a week in an effort to get back to this art form. I’m not sure if it makes more sense to write a book or to write here, but I figure, as long as I’m writing something I’m headed in the right direction.

And speaking of heading in the right direction, I took a few minutes to look at my blog’s statistics, since I’ve written here for more than a decade. I have to say that I am amused by the fact that my most popular posts are ones that I feel are the cheapest. People end up finding my blog because they’re looking for paleo recipes by Food Network chefs or because they’re looking for a dominatrix in Philadelphia who happens to use the same moniker that I chose for a one night show in Los Angeles in 2006. Ridiculous, ehh? Maybe I should take that post down.

For the last year or so, I’ve been kicking around the idea of creating a new blog — one devoted to the keto diet. My mind won’t let go of the belief that I have skills that could somehow be exploited for my family’s financial gain. I don’t know why that still matters to me, but it does. Is it internalized ableism? Is it simply survival under capitalism? Yes and yes.

I’m just not sure that I want to deal with everything that would go with it, since blogging isn’t just blogging anymore. It’s running groups on Facebook (and other social media), keeping an active Pinterest page, posting videos on Instagram and YouTube and TikTok, managing advertisers and storefronts with multiple online retailers, writing and publishing ebooks, and eventually publishing cookbooks and promoting them at real book stores. Just thinking about it is overwhelming — especially considering I can’t remember the last time anyone over the age of 5 got enough sleep. If I did it, I’d need plenty of help from Adam. He takes better pictures than I do, actually cooks most of our meals, and is the yang to my yin in every regard.

I am, quite truthfully, doing the best I can right now, so I probably should just calm down. It would be stressful enough going through this time if I were healthy, but we both know my difficulty modifier is nothing to sneeze at. I just can’t ignore the feeling that it’s a good time for me to leave notes for others who will walk a similar path. Or that this is all just stuff my future self will smirk at when she reads.

Regardless, you can expect more stories and recipes soon.

Henry hugging Gabrielle in her high chair.
These two: my reason for, well, everything.