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Oh, June.  I’m into you.  I didn’t expect to be.  Maybe the surprise of it is what makes it so mesmerizing.

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The snow cones don’t hurt, either.

Words:

Poetry, food, and friends.  Even with two jobs in full swing, June demands vacation reading. I moved my reading lamp to the bedroom, so I have been drenching myself in the poetry collections I keep on my bedside table every night and every morning.  Suddenly, waking up isn’t so hard to do.

Chocolat – Long-time lover of the movie (because Johnny Depp.  And chocolate.  But mostly Johnny Depp), I knew I’d love the book as well. This book will make you hungry…in so many ways.

Ruth Reichl’s debut novel Delicious! was wonderful.  I am biased, because having collected most of her other books and tried most of the recipes within them, I love her and sort of want to be her when I grow up, but Reichl knows how to tell a story.  Also – don’t worry – the gingerbread recipe is at the back of the book.

And my friend Beth Morey’s The Light Between Us was launched this month.  I ordered a paper copy but I couldn’t wait for it to get to me, so I grabbed an e-copy as well. It’s a fast read, because you don’t want to put it down.  This book + beach + mai tai = perfect day.

Friends:

June was full of fun.

Our Supper Club went to Wine Squared for Sumptuous Sundays on Father’s Day. We enjoyed a wonderful three-course meal with wine pairings for each course which included the most glorious pork loin I’ve ever eaten and a port I actually enjoyed. We, of course, hastily signed up for their wine club.  We’re hooked.

Summer seems to be the time for transitions. Several friends have moved/are moving/got new jobs, so I got to celebrate with them. My old boss Dennis got a job at another school, so the Dean of Students office (where he worked at UNT) had a farewell party for him. Lisa from my book club moved back to the east coast, so we had a special book club meeting (read: night of wine and Texas-themed food/presents) to send her off.  And Jayne and Connor are moving to Juneau soon, so I got to see her last week and will see her again at their garage sale on Saturday.  Added bonus – I bought this adorable thing from them, which is the perfect cabinet for my liquor:

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Dear Savvy turned two.  What she’s into?  Daniel Tiger and butterflies.

Savvy

 

(And cake.  And Daddy.)

Because none of us could make the in-person Story Sessions retreat in Austin, the DFW Story Sisters decided to have our own party.  Adela hosted us for an evening of wine, food, and conversation, and it was a balm to my soul.

Products:

Um, who knew about Arbonne and failed to tell me?  Kim lured me to a party one Friday with the promise of wine (pretty much the only reason I’ll ever leave my house on a Friday evening), and I’m so glad she did.  I tried all the things, and I AM NOT ALLERGIC TO ANY OF THEM. This never happens.  I ordered the daily face regime for sensitive skin and the deodorant, but I want to buy everything.  I’m having a party in August, and I’m at least going to sign up to be a preferred customer.

Equal Exchange’s Red Cherry Challenge -in addition to their already stellar business practices that ensure a livable wage and a workable business model for coffee farmers, Equal Exchange is donating ten cents for every pound of coffee purchased this year to the Red Cherry Fund, a grant program for farmers in El Salvador and Guatamala, where climate change has wreaked havoc on their businesses. I pledged to buy five pounds of coffee a month (which is actually a pretty conservative estimate for me).  Will you join the challenge?

TV/Movies:

The first weekend of the month, I did a little dogsitting, which means I also did a lot of Netflixing.  In one weekend, I watched Season 3 of Sherlock (!!!) and both seasons of Orange is the New Black (also !!!). The dogs were incredibly calm, aside from during that pesky storm incident, and I like to think it had something to do with my good taste in programming.

Well, I say they were calm.  This is the look you get from Maddie when you suggest that she “go outside” during OITNB:

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No one gives side eye like Maddie.

I also watched The Secret Life of Walter Mitty.  I liked it, but I don’t know if I would have liked it as much as I did if I hadn’t been chatting about it via Facebook with the Story Sessions while watching it. It was clever.  You should see it.

The Internet:

Women ignoring men as art

June 4 was National Hug Your Cat Day, and The Bloggess encouraged all of us to celebrate.

– This was followed two days later by National Donut Day. Mmmm….donut….*salivates*

– Addie Zierman wrote The Non-Blogger’s Guide to Blogging series. This is the first blogging series that hasn’t made me want to throw my hands up in the air (and wave them like I just don’t care) and erase everything I’ve ever done online because why bother if I’m not going to be perfect at it. If you want to improve your blog but can’t stand advice on how to improve your blog, go give it a read.

So you can see why I have such a crush on June this year.  Link up with us over at Leigh Kramer’s blog to let us know what you were into in June!

Renew

I originally planned to call this week of Getting It Together Cleanse, but that reminds me too much of funky temporary diets that make my sweat smell odd. Renew is a better word for what I want to accomplish in the targeted spaces – the bathroom and the laundry closet – for this week. These two areas generally stay well-organized, but I still want to make some minor improvements.

I say “generally,” because they are a terrible mess right now.  The picture of the flower on the bathroom counter (which, in the interest of full disclosure, I must admit died weeks ago and thus is not even there anymore) is the only picture I’m willing to share with you right now.

In the laundry closet:

  • I want to put up a bar where I can hang clothes straight from the dryer.
  • I need to take the recycling that has taken over the top of the machines (where I usually stack clothes as I fold them) to the recycling center so that I have a place to fold (on top of dryer) and a place to store my ample collection of coolers (on top of the washer).

My original plan for the bathroom was a new color scheme.  It was going to be plum and silver, with varying shades of gray as a backdrop. Two problems arose:

  • When at all possible, I like to make choices that exhibit ethical consumerism and good stewardship of resources. This isn’t always possible.  Sometimes, need + budget restrictions = compromise.  I can’t justify that excuse here, though.  I don’t need new towels.  I already have more towels than I have space to store them, and they’re in good shape.  Having matching bathroom linens and fixtures would be nice, but it’s unnecessary.  It would be frivolous spending.  Now, I’m a fan of frivolity, but I’m also working on becoming less of an asshole, so if I’m going to engage in rampant, needless consumerism, the very least I can do is engage in it ethically. After more hours than I care to admit of searching for four sets of bathroom linens that 1) are the color I want, 2) are ethically sourced (i.e., fairly traded, sweatshop-free, made from sustainable materials, etc.), and 3) are within even the most liberal stretches of my budget, I am sad to report that no such items exist IN THE WORLD.
  • I don’t own the apartment I live in.  So even if I changed everything I could to make a new color scheme in the bathroom, I would still be stuck with cheap tan flooring, brass-colored doorknobs and light fixtures, and plain white walls. This would significantly diminish the effect, which gives me a big case of the why-bothers.

All of that to say…I won’t be buying new towels.

So let’s move on to what I will be doing:

  • Cleaning and organizing the cabinet under the sink, the medicine cabinet, and the small storage buckets on the counter.  This includes getting rid of all expired items and making a list of what needs to be replaced.
  • Finally putting up the towel rack that I bought the first month I moved in.
  • Deep cleaning the whole room, especially the shower.  I need to clean up as much of the rust from the air conditioner overflow as possible (ongoing saga – the short version is that the cheap bastards refuse to fix it despite it being reported as a problem several times – one of which was a report from the outside contractor whom they had to call to completely replace it because, according to said HVAC professional, the same problem that causes the overflow/leak situation was what also caused the old unit to rust and fall apart) and try to figure out a way to channel the apparently inevitable leak in order to minimize the extent to which it compromises the structural integrity of the property, thus also hopefully minimizing the likelihood that someday I will fall, naked and wet, into the apartment below me.
  • Replacing the plastic shower curtain liner with a new, rust-free one and dyeing the current shower curtain to mask the rust stain that appeared when the current liner tore. *sigh*

That’s a lot of work for such a small amount of square footage. I need a nap just thinking about it.

Nostalgia is a Liar

When I went through my mom’s recipe collection in order to find things to make, I told her, “I want a variety of things – comfort food, desserts, main courses, side items, etc.” I came across the recipe for Western Salad, and I remarked, “Oh – Western Salad – good!  This gives me a healthy option, too!”

She gave me the oddest look.  I was confused at first, but then I read the recipe.

It started well:

  • 1 head of lettuce
  • 1 cup chopped onions
  • 1 pint cherry tomatoes
  • 1 can ranch-style beans

But it derailed from there:

  • 2 cups shredded cheese
  • 1 cup Catalina dressing
  • bag of corn chips

You mix everything except the chips. The chips are added as you serve, to avoid sogginess. And you end up with this:

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I did leave out the onions, because when there are raw onions in something, that’s all I can taste, and I doubled the amount of tomatoes. But I followed the rest of the recipe exactly.

Calling it a salad is an exercise in willing suspension of disbelief. I can picture the creator of this marvelous foodstuff debating whether or not s/he could actually call it salad and get away with it, finally ending with the deciding factor – “Does it have lettuce?  Yes!  Okay, then – salad, it is!”

So I’m giving in to my nostalgia, deceptive as it might be, and sticking to the name Western Salad. Just nod along, everybody.  Be cool.

My memory of this dish is that it was light and healthy.  The reality of this dish is that it is the sort of thing one might buy from a concession stand. This explains why Mom never actually served it as a meal but as a decadent side item in an otherwise healthy, balanced dinner.

As I have mentioned before, I am not my mother.  Totally ate a large bowl of Western Salad as a meal.

I regret nothing.

Two things

Okay, two things regarding the SCOTUS decision, then I’ll get back to talking about food, coffee, and the ridiculous amount of possessions I have shoved into my tiny, tiny apartment.

First, since I still don’t have nice words, I am going to direct you to someone else. This article sums up my disappointment nicely. The only time I ever took medicine traditionally used for contraceptive purposes, it was not for contraceptive purposes.  I had abnormally large cysts on my ovaries that exploded every month.  They were not cancerous, but every month they just kept getting bigger. And exploding.  The last month it happened, I landed in the emergency room because we thought something vital had ruptured. The impact so distressed the inner workings of my abdomen that I was on a mostly liquid diet (on good days, I could keep down vegetable soup) for six months. My doctor prescribed a hormone therapy drug because it regulated the hormone imbalance that was causing the abnormal growth. It probably saved my life.  This decision denies that life-saving opportunity to others. I take this personally because it is personal to me.

(I could also make the argument that birth control used as birth control is also life-affirming and life-saving, but I won’t. Oops.  Guess I just did.  But you can pretend you didn’t see this, if it makes you feel better.)

Second, this is a minor annoyance, but still…I’m annoyed that we keep referring to the money the company pays to insurance as the company’s money.  Frankly, I’m shocked that my highly conservative Facebook feed is doing so, given their usual proclivity to jump on the get-out-of-my-pocketbook train. This is a not a case of a company using its resources to engage in unethical practices (like sweatshop labor, for example. But if it were such a case…*cue pointed glance*…but I digress).  This is not a case of a company using its resources to encourage certain behavior. This is not a case of a company using its resources for anything. Dear Hobby Lobby, when someone works for you, the money you pay in insurance?  THE EMPLOYEE’S MONEY.  Not yours.  THEIRS.  Payment – in the form of benefits, sure, but part of the compensation package all the same – that they EARNED by working for you.  You know how you can tell it’s theirs?  If you would stop providing it when they stop working for you, it falls in the category of payment for services rendered.  It’s theirs. No corporation – regardless of their tax status – should have any more right to tell employees what to do with their benefits than they do to tell employees what to do with their paycheck.

Okay.  We now return to our regular programming.

I have three posts to write – a Getting It Together plan, a GIT recipe, and What I’m Into – but I don’t think I can say anything nice about anything today.

Hobby Lobby, we have been having issues for a while now.  But as of today, we’re done.

SCOTUS, you’re on my list, too.

Get ’em, Ginsberg (scroll to page 60 for the dissent).

If you need me, I’ll be avoiding my conservative Facebook feed and pinning comfort food recipes and pictures of cute animals on Pinterest.

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It is not easy to define what support looks like in practice.  It might seem easy.  Then you meet people and discover that they often find it difficult to take others’ needs into account when they are deciding how they are going to behave in life.  This might surprise you, but it probably shouldn’t, as you are people, too, and have probably not centered your own life around what the general “other” needs.

It’s even more complicated when you’ve been burned.  When you thought what you had was support but found out that what was really going on there was agenda.  Or when you had an agreement, and that agreement was not honored. Or when you really did have support – one that you thought would last forever – right up until the moment that it ended.

Today, I want to talk about two places I’ve found support and what that looks like.  I want to talk about two of my online writing communities.

I also want to invite you to join us, because, dear reader-writer-friend, I want you to have support, too.  If any of this interests you, follow the links to find out how you can get involved.

The first online writing community I joined was the writing community at Andilit.  It was created by Andi Cumbo-Floyd who wrote The Slaves Have Names (click and buy – you know you wanna) about the people who were enslaved on the land where she grew up. I am boggled, both by the enormous amount of research it took to tell as much of their story as possible and by the humble grace and beauty with which she tells it.

I joined because I had this scrap of a manuscript, and I needed fresh eyes. What I found exceeded (and continues to exceed) my expectations.

I get monthly editing for up to five pages of work from a professional editor.  Five pages is a drop in the bucket as far as a full manuscript goes, but for the turtle-esque pace with which I edit my own work to the point that I am willing to let another human being see it, this works out perfectly.  I am saving up for a grand editing once the manuscript is totally finished (and if you are looking for such an editor, I highly recommend Andi), but it’s great to have help along the way as well.

I also get monthly editing from a workshop of others in the group for up to five pages.  This was the part that scared me when I first joined, because I tend to helicopter-parent my characters.  They’ve been through so much already; I want to protect them from judgment. But as with most overzealous protection, this doesn’t help them grow, so I begrudgingly submitted pieces for workshop.  It has been a godsend.  It’s a critique, but from nice, friendly people who write very different things but are still enthusiastic in their desire to help you make your work better, and they expect the same from you. It doesn’t mean the critique doesn’t ever hurt, but it hurts in the good kind of way, like having sore legs the day after a challenging run.

In addition to all of this, Andi facilitates a private Facebook group for members where we post articles or posts on writing that we find, our own blog posts, and anything else writers might find helpful to their craft.  She ends out weekly writing prompts to keep us from getting stuck.  Andi teaches several online courses at reasonable rates. She also lives on a farm where she is hosting a writer’s retreat in July (another thing I’ll be saving toward so that I don’t miss it again next year).

The second online writing community I joined was Story Sessions. I meandered into Story Sessions via Elora’s blog after I read Every Shattered Thing (go ahead, click and buy – I’ll wait) and thus had the insatiable urge to read everything she has ever or will ever write. I feel almost as protective of her main character as I do of  mine.

There are many options for membership.  All of them, however, include a private Facebook group and private members-only content on the website, weekly writing prompts, a monthly newsletter, and story coaching with trained coaches. There are e-courses offered (I’m in the summer session of Story 101 now, and it is glorious) as well as various collectives (mini-courses on a variety of topics), virtual retreats, movie nights, and an annual in-person retreat. We also meet in person in more casual groups on a regular basis, because we just can’t help ourselves.

My favorite thing about Story Sessions are the write-ins.  This might sound funny to members, because my crazy schedule doesn’t allow me to engage in them very often, but I LOVE them. Many of the blog posts I’ve written in the last year of which I am most proud (and all of the blog series I’ve started) were birthed at a Story Sessions write-in. On a weekly basis, members are invited to an online Fuze meeting where we are given prompts, time to write, and an opportunity to read what came out of that time to the other people attending the session.

All that I have said is just a small taste of what you would get from membership in these groups. These words don’t do them justice, because the people in these groups are my friends, and when have words ever done a friend justice? I have read many a snotty piece on how Internet relationships aren’t real relationships, but I can’t help but wonder where those authors are looking.  I know online relationships can be real, because I experience them. And while it’s even better when we have a chance to get together in person, the foundation of our friendships started via the Internet, and they flourish there.

I love these people.  Mercy, how I love them.

I would consider myself lucky to have just found one such community, but I have two.  If you are a writer/artist in need of support, give us a try.

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(Photo Credit – Jennifer Upton – A Shared Lens)

Every morning, at precisely 5:03 a.m., my internal clock wakes me up.  This has been happening sporadically for about a year, but it has happened EVERY DAY for the last two weeks. It doesn’t seem to matter what time I go to bed.  I could crash at 10:30, or I can stay up reading until 2:00.  Still – 5:03.  On the dot.

I don’t know why my body has decided to betray me in such a way.  I don’t know why it’s angry with me or what I could have possibly done for it to think I deserve this treatment.  Et tu, body?

I have been ignoring it.  I have woken up, looked at my phone, seen the odious numbers 5:03, cursed vehemently, rolled over in a huff, and fallen right back to sleep.

Yet it keeps happening.

So I’m going to give in. You want to wake me up at 5:03 a.m., body?  FINE. We’ll see how you actually like getting up at that time.

My fear, of course, is that my body will like it.  I do not look forward to the few weeks it takes to adjust my falling-asleep time to the new, ungodly getting-up time. The next few weeks might be rough.

But once I do adjust (and please let it happen quickly), I foresee the following benefits:

  1. I can have breakfast and wake up (read: start caffeinating) at home, where I can do so in private, instead of at work, where I must do so around other humans. People I work with – don’t worry – there will still be coffee at the desk in the morning.  In fact, this way, you might get more than one cup before I drain the pot.
  2. I can do morning free writes leisurely, at my desk, instead of tapping away on Margeaux the iPhone, one eye still closed, in between alarm snoozes.
  3. Morning reading time?  Yes, please.
  4. Once I get used to it, I could start going to the gym again.  I am generally not a fan of the gym, but I am a fan of running.  Do you know what a good time of day to run outside in July in Texas is?  NEVER.  There’s not a good time.  It’s so hot.  You could die. So I can get up and go use the track (and maybe the weights, on days when I just flat out lose my mind and forget my personality, which is actually quite likely at 6:00 in the morning) at the gym.  Yes, I realize that the gym is open at other times of the day. But will I ever, ever go when I know that it’s full of 18-year-olds?  No.  No, I will not.  So 6:00 a.m. is my gym time, if I am to have a gym time at all.
  5. I will be able to do all of these things and still get to work on time.

So I’m skeptical, but I’m willing to try, if for no other reason than it means I’ll only have to wake up once.

I’m just going to give up counting the weeks.  The number doesn’t matter; the plan does.  So here we go.

This week is Create – tackling the writing nook.  It’s called the writing nook, but its function goes beyond writing.  It’s where I read. It’s where I organize and coordinate the schedules of my life. It’s where I store my sewing machine (although I really don’t like it there, so that might change soon). As areas of the apartment go, this is the one that gets the most attention, because 1) it’s where I spend most of my time and 2) it’s where I work, so it has to stay functional and organized.  Because sanity. In fact, technically, I’ve already started on this area, because fixing one thing in the living room snowballed into rearranging all the bookshelves in the room, most of which are in the writing nook.

When I sit down at my desk, this is the reminder that greets me:

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Equally important reminders, but let’s focus on the larger one.

I have only seen this quote in these exact words on Pinterest and in Aiki Finthart’s The Yu Dragon, which apparently you can get for free on Amazon today, but the sentiment is most often attributed to Friedrich Nietzsche (although here’s a fun investigation into its actual origins, if you’re interested). At any rate, it is important for me to remember that while what I’m creating might not have an immediate, obvious product, that doesn’t mean it isn’t worthwhile or that it’s not beautiful.  It is important for me to remember that despite input from ambitious, results-oriented friends (which is not a bad way to be…generally speaking), my life and goals don’t have to look like theirs in order to be fulfilling.  Maybe this is taking some liberties with this quote, but that’s the reminder it gives me lately.

It also reminds me to keep dancing, both figuratively and literally.

This week is not just about cleaning and organizing.  This week is about honoring what the space is meant for – creating.

This week’s plan is:

  • Get back into the habit of a 15-minute free write every morning.  I used to do this regularly, and not only was I more alert and less harried by the time I got to work, I also got more writing done than I do now. And it just so happens that a 15-minute daily free write is my assignment in Story 101 this week.  Bonus!
  • Finish reorganizing bookshelves. The end is in sight.  It’s very exciting. I might actually have room to grow (which is both dangerous and fantastic information).
  • Figure out what to do with the luxurious, newly empty space on my desk, now that I’ve moved the smaller reading lamp (which I never used in this space, as I have a large one right behind the chair) to the bedroom.  It seems like that would be the perfect spot for all the different journals I am using, but we’ll see.
  • File/shred all the papers from the end of the spring semester.
  • Speaking of filing…figure out something there.  I want to have a space in the file for fabric, but first I have to deal with the utter chaos that currently lurks behind those opaque, closed drawers.
  • Work on my cork board. I am trying to cover the back of my kitchen armoire with wine corks. At first, I was overwhelmed by how many corks that would take, but as it turns out, my friends and I drink tons of wine, so it should be completely covered by the end of the year. My short-term goal is to use all the corks I have by the time I have my July 4/sorta-mid-project party.

I hope your week is full of creative fun as well!

I have a hard time getting enthusiastic about summer.  This summer is not so bad, for two reasons:

  • It’s hot.  No – you don’t understand.  I live in Texas.  It’s HOT.  We’re having what we call a “mild” summer. I am grateful for this.  Unfortunately, “mild” in Texas means it’s only supposed to get to 97 on Monday.  Yippee.
  • Summer usually means less money in the bank because I usually don’t teach.  This unfortunately also coincides with having all the free time in the world to daydream about traveling and other expensive luxuries…because I usually don’t teach.  But I managed to pick up a class this summer.  My student loan corporation will be happy.

But even during the worst summers, I have to admit – it’s certainly pretty:

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So I am thankful.

I am keeping track of beautiful moments and words this year on my Beauty board on Pinterest.

I am also linking up with Amy Young’s Trusting Tuesdays – check it out!

Binge

Oxford Dictionaries defines binge as “a short period devoted to indulging in an activity to excess, especially drinking alcohol or eating.”  Mirriam-Webster defines it as “a short period of time when you do too much of something.”

I find these definitions rife with judgment, but maybe I’m reading too much into the definition (or not enough into the word – that is certainly a possibility).

Certainly it is possible to eat or drink (or do anything else) too much.  If one makes doing so a habit, one might even find oneself in need of some sort of treatment. There’s no doubt that this word – binge – might be triggering to some, and with good reason. Moderation is generally a friend.

But when Andi prompted our writing community to reflect on the word binge this week, excess and too much were not the ideas that came to mind.

You see, what I binge on is TV. There is an element of escape to this.  I admit that sometimes, I’m re-watching old episodes of Big Bang Theory because I am avoiding doing something productive (because humorous as it may be, this is not the show to watch for deep character development).

(The Gilmore Girls understand me.)

But most of the time, watching television is productive for me. A couple of weekends ago, for example, I spent the whole weekend curled up on the couch with the pups I was dog-sitting enjoying an Orange is the New Black marathon. 48 hours, two full seasons. Lots of popcorn.

And it was good for me.

I binge on story.  I binge on characters. I like seeing how other people develop plot and show-don’t-tell personalities. I like stewing in the tension of not really liking a main character (Piper Chapman, I’m looking at you). I like it when seemingly random happenings appear later and branch into a whole new storyline (see the entire series of Arrested Development).

Could I get this same thing from reading books?  I could, and I do.  But unless it’s the book we’re discussing in book club that month, or it is a book I’m reading for class, the insights I glean from reading tend to remain as solitary insights.  I love this, and it is valuable, but the beauty of television is that it gives me the opportunity to engage in discussion in real time.  If learning story and character are a classroom, books are the texts and television is the in-class discussion.

Television affords me the opportunity to engage in the social aspect of learning.  Again, books can do this as well, but they take more time.  Television is almost immediate. My Twitter feed lights up when a beloved character finally gets the job/relationship/etc. that s/he wants. When a series premiere or finale happens, a quick internet search (or let’s be real – the people whose blogs I follow specifically because we share favorite shows) gives me speedy commentary on how well the writers and performers met our expectations and hopes for the episode.

This commentary is not limited to online fandom.  When I was in grad school, I attended a panel at national conference on the feminist themes in Ally McBeal. I wrote papers on Ally McBeal (although my papers tended to focus more on how well the show handled the topic of loneliness and less on the feminism in the show, as that had already been widely discussed, leaving little exigence for further exploration). And if you’re bored some time, go to Google and type in “television after 9/11 site:.edu” (or just click on the link there), and see what pops up.

I can only imagine the multitude of hours of binge-watching it took to gather the information to write those papers.  If my own experience is any indication, there are a lot of people who  need to get to a therapist to discuss their worrisome indulgence in this excess behavior.

Or maybe – maybe – not all binges are bad.  Maybe “too much” is sometimes just enough.