25 October 2026
My former- and only--work wife took me out to drag brunch yesterday for my birthday
She quit teaching after kid #2 because there was no way her salary was going to be relevant when she got pregnant with kid #3. She would literally only be working to pay for day care.
She was an amazing teacher, and this is a huge loss. But again, as we've learned from our current envioronment: Nobody Cares. So she had to quit to be a mom, so what. She's doing her sacred female duty.
Because she is fortunate enough to be married to someone who makes good money, she peaced out and moved on to live her best life.
To say I am insanely jealous is an understatement. Like saying "Weird Al is weird" is an understatment. Like saying "Selma Hayek is pretty" is an understatement.
Anyway, we did the brunch and then sat at a bookstore and had coffee, and I realized how deeply I regret remaining in teaching.
Everything about her life since teaching is better. Everything.
She has stories about traveling, about her kids, she still talks about Shakespeare and the Greeks and reads and loves her local library and knows her kids' school and district because she got involved.
My kids went to school where I was teaching so they could have a ride.
She paid for a very expensive day out, and then when I told her she was a great mom she said "You're very kind."
No. I'm not. I never have been.
What I am is honest.
I have never been kind.
I've been supoortive, lent a shoulder to cry on.
I've been vigilant, returned a wandering toddler to his apartment from the edge of the parking lot.
I've been humane, ask any of the rescue animals who've lived in my house.
I'll have to look up this line in my head...there is a quote "There's something hard in you, like biting on tin foil." That's how I've always imagined I am.
AHHHH! Yes. It's the description of Larry Underwood. What's his name is walking with him on the beach trying to sober him up and get him to understand he's screwed up. Wayne. Larry doesn't think very clearly, or very well, even sober. But the idea that he's a survivor, he'll get through whatever is thrown, is obvious.
That was a fun rabbit hole.
Ok, side note, what is with this whiney white woman claiming the liberals are racist? What the fuck is going on? Jim has football on and I just heard the commercial.
That was wild.
But now I'm in Larry's headspace. Larry was a neurotic mess. When fame hit fast, he had no scaffolding or experience to deal with it. He did what many would do; he threw parties and did a lot of drugs. But he had this one good friend, Wayne, who even though he was annoyed to the tits with Larry, cared enough to pull him out and say "Dude, what the hell?'
Everyone thought Larry had it together. Even Wayne, who said "there's something in you that's like biting down on tin foil" he meant it as "you're better than this, and you'll land on your feet."
Which is exhausting. Larry would have not made a single good choice if Wayne didn't care enought to say something, and he didn't ultimately respect Wayne enough to listen. And Wayne also helped clean up the mess, because that's what you do when you care.
He wasn't kind. He was honest.
I get this relationship.
And I get Larry.
And I have no idea if this is about Steph or not, but maybe it is. I was all flavors of angry when we met yesterday, I'm not doing well: I can't with the cruelty of the regime and nothing at my job is working smoothly. I need a space where nothing is on fire. Steph yelled at me about how lucky we are that we not just get to attend drag shows, but we enjoy them; we get them. "We" have the capacity to enjoy life, and "They" do not. They are rich and power hungry and miserable.
When I pivoted "Right, but they are in charge and we're the ones who will end up in camps and we're the ones suffering."
She wasn't having any. To be fair, she was two bottles into a bottomless belini, but she actually told me to shush.
"We know how to be happy. We know how to celebrate and support this---" she gestured to the performers in the little purple house. "We're better. We'll win. Hold onto that." She may have called me an idiot or something in closing. She was not wrong.
And so, all in all to sum up, I came home yesterday and realized I hadn't watched any Aaron Parnas or MidasTouch posts. And when I did, I only skimmed them because I have to believe she is correct.
We win because we are open. We are not racist. We are not homophobic. We can see real fraud in real time, even when nobody else can (or will). We are creatives, we are human beings, we love art and bookstores and weird borderline junk shops. We rescue animals and raise our children and do The Best That We Can under the boot of a cruel regime.
We vote.
We do not cheat.
We are honest and believe in cause and effect, science is real and ever changing and the earth is being destroyed.
And we can't stop any of it.
But we can over pay for bellinis and mimosas and watch two drag queens own their lives, connect to their audience and allow us to choose Freddy Mercury as a diva even though he was a guy.
That was oddly specific and out of context. The show aligned with the DIVA exhibit at the museum. You can connect the dots.
If you want to believe that white people are the ones being attacked, I can't help you.
If you want to believe that your problems are caused by a small fraction of the population, and not the capitalist greed machine; I can't help you.
And you don't want my help. So why am I screaming?
I am not kind. I'm just awake. Female. A mother. A teacher. A creative. I have empathy for other humans, animals and the fate of the planet.
But I am not kind. Never make that mistake. There is something in me that is like biting on tin foil. And if you push me, I will not fall over.
Scene.
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