My kids are obsessed with me. And yes, I’m including the doggo as a kid here.
This is where I should probably be demure and bashful about how exuberantly they love me, make caveats about how they’re just naturally loving children and they adore their dad and everyone else in their family (which is true, by the way). But I’m not going to pretend I’m not delighted to my core at their blatant mom preferences. Cause guess what? I relish it. There’s nothing I love more than being the favorite.
Today, I laid down on the floor and was quickly flanked by the two kids, cuddling as close to me as humanly possible, heads nestled against my neck. They pretended to sleep, waiting for that hilarious moment when Jack would scream “Awake! Awake!” and we’d all sit up before collapsing down again. Looking at their closed eyes, it hit me that this won’t be forever. The days of this particular expression of adoration will end someday, replaced by, I don’t know, a firm handshake or curt nod. But for now I am a physical manifestation of love to my kids. I hope they always know that love is there, far beyond their need to actually touch me to know it exists. Give me all the snuggles. I’ll rejoice in them.
Watching
I watched Connie and Carla with a group from church, and there's not much better than watching a movie about drag queens with a bunch of post-menopausal Mormon women. This show probably couldn't be made today. Yes, I know there's still disgust at drag queens in areas, but a lot more "regular" people are aware of the concept. RuPaul's Drag Race started a mere five years after this. It showed LA natives being horrified by drag, which felt off to me. Anyway, every musical theatre fan should watch it for their quick-change Broadway medley alone.1
The Beatles released a new song this week, and you bet your bootstraps I watched the making-of short and then the official video and then streamed the song itself on Spotify a billion times, parsing each phrase and layer for significance and artist contribution. It’s always a pleasure to lose myself in Beatles-world.
You’re either into Sofia Coppola’s dreamscapes or you aren’t. I most assuredly am. I love her color palette, her close ups of women quietly longing for something else, her ethereal music cues. Which is to say, I saw Priscilla and loved it. Definitely the better of the two recent Elvis projects. Better acted and much better paced. I could have watched another hour of Priscilla in her gilded cage.
Yep, it’s only a Paper Moon, and it’s only a great movie. Tatum O’Neal earned that Oscar win by being completely riveting. Ryan O’Neal was funnier than he’d ever been in a role he seemed born to play. Madeline Kahn never misses.
Buh-duh-duh, it’s the SNL Report!
Nate Bargatze was not part of my cultural knowledge. I wasn’t impressed with his monologue, which felt like middle America stand-up to me, but he did well in the sketches. Afterward Taylor said Bargatze played a perfect straight man. He’s not wrong. Foo Fighters performed. The songs weren’t distinctive, but I love me some Dave Grohl. Also, has anyone noticed every episode this season bringing in big guest stars to prop up the hosts? In this case, Christopher Walken came (and announced Foo Fighters again, but without his delightful je ne sais quoi). It always makes me wonder what’s happening behind the scenes, like that one season where they brought live animals on every show.
Reading
Volume Two of The Nice House on the Lake by James Tynion IV. This was satisfying, delving perfectly into the lives of the friends and their strange world. I don’t know if this was the actual arc ending, but if it was it worked for me. Finally! An ending that felt good.
I’ve been listening to the audiobook of Yellowface. There’s a lot of mixed opinions on the interwebs about this book, and I think they’re all warranted. The main character is noxious, but you’re also riveted by her tale. Not all of it is wrong. It makes the publishing industry slimy and grotesque. It’s irritating and engrossing, all at once.
There’s not a video of this online, which is a TRAVESTY. I’m ashamed of everyone.