I’d rather play jai alai without a helmet than to play two minutes of pickleball.
Category Archives: Notes & Scraps
Koan: Grief
Distraction is not a cure for grief.
Kentucky’s Basement
Now that I think about it, it seems fitting that Kentucky has a basement of caves — a second Kentucky, should I need to escape to somewhere that feels different-but-familiar.
A Short List of Things We Griped About During Our Holiday Feast
• SNHU commercials
• J.G. Wentworth
• pimp goblets and pimp fashion trends
• Big Ed from 90 Day Fiancé
• Ozempic
Peach-Tree Switches
There ought to be a Rice Purity Score for the oddly-specific methods of abuse — physical and mental and emotional — some Southern and/or rural folks have inflicted on their children.
#64: Have you ever been beaten with a switch from a peach tree?
#65: Have you ever had a whoopin’ or a ***-kickin’ from an old man wearing Ostrich boots?
I don’t endorse corporal punishment — and this is because I’ve been on the receiving end of it. I’ve been belted and switched, and I didn’t deserve it. No child deserves any of that.
I’m aware of how wildly awful that stuff is — and I would never dream of giving a child a switch from a peach tree when I could offer them fruit instead.
Facebook’s Agony Aunties
One of the worst things about social media is all of the advice-giving. Relationship advice from codependent people. Parenting advice from twenty-two-year-olds who have only been married two years, with only a tiny infant to cull experience from. “Sage” life lessons from a seventeen-year-old who has a podcast microphone.
I don’t like to be down on (most) other people — but I often roll my eyes at this Digital Creator/Expert cottage industry.
As much as I dislike it, I’ve decided to just keep doing what I’m doing — which is not taking their advice. None of the advice applies or makes sense, so the best thing to do (in the short term) is to simply ignore the foolishness.
That’s just my advice, though. 😘
Hay Is For Horses, Straw Is For A Drink
… and straw shouldn’t go in my hair, don’t you think?
I realize that’s a ridiculous and unnecessary rhyme, but I wanted to preface this ridiculous and unnecessary post with something that’s as goofy as I am.
I’ve never worn straw in my hair, I should say. I have thick, super-curly hair, so I try not to stick too many foreign objects in my curls. I have to admit that I did put feathers in my hair back in 2012 — back when that was trendy.
I only wore clip-on feathers. I didn’t get any sewn in. If any Gen Z or Gen A folks are reading this and didn’t realize that Hair Feathers were not only a real thing, but also the height of early 2010s Indie Sleaze fashion, then … let me disabuse you of the notion that anything that awkward couldn’t possibly be it.
Hair feathers were it and then some. Everyone from tweens to forty-something indie rockers got in on the befeathering. 2012 was a wild year, that’s true — but I miss that era so much. Not to be stuck in the past, but I really loved the Blog House/Indie Sleaze years.
The only other “accessory” I’ve worn woven into my hair — other than a headband or flower crown — is rice. This was entirely accidental. I went to a Halloween showing of Rocky Horror and I walked around with rice in my hair for several days. Even after washing and detangling it, I would find little grains of rice. I dealt with that situation by combing it all out, one grain at a time.
Back in November, I would braid my hair every night before going to bed — but every morning, it would look more wild than ever. From time to time, my hair looked decent in the morning, but by mid-afternoon, it looked like frizzy straw. I felt like a hay bale.
But everything changed when I bought the UnBrush. This brush is incredible. I’m not doing any spon-con — and I don’t want to.
I just want all the curly-haired folks to know that this brush works wonders! I love it!
Not Another Business!
I have never been self-employed.
Not really, I should say. I’ve always been in school, working for someone else, or doing both of those things. Other than a brief period of unemployment after finishing graduate school, I’ve always been studying or working.
But because I’m friends with lots of folks who do media and art — freelance writers, photographers, videographers, folks who draw and paint — I see that lots of my friends have their own studios, or LLCs, or business accounts on Facebook.
I’ve never been tempted to set up my own business, because I know that it’s not for me. The two most “business venture”-y things I’ve done:
(1) I started a podcast, but I only posted about twenty episodes over the course of a year. That was more of a personal project, anyway, so I didn’t expect to sell any ads or make any money.
(2) I have a Teepspring storefront, where I “sell” all sorts of shirts (and stickers and mugs) with silly slogans on them. I’ve never made many sales — but I didn’t plan on making that my primary source of income.
With the podcast and the storefront, I didn’t feel like I was making “business moves.” They were just fun creative projects. Not very time-intensive, and they didn’t involve too much labor.
I like a good project. I’ve done lots of projects, from helping to build a deck to filling sandbags to doing bad oil paintings — but I don’t want a second job.
And this is coming from someone who’s worked two jobs at the same time before. I remember my six-day work-weeks and the days where I would work from 8 AM to 8 PM. I like being able to come home and have dinner before 9 PM.
I don’t want my own photography business — even though I only shoot landscapes and no portraits, so that point is moot — or my own freelance writing/PR business, because it seems like a lot of work for minimal payout.
The market is chock full o’nuts saturated right now. Everyone in the market has a podcast, a blog, a content creator page, a professional page, and a wall of platitudes that they sit in front of during their Zoom consulting sessions. Everyone in the market is worried about aesthetics, monetizing hobbies, side hustles, and branding. Everyone has a personal brand that features their name and their image quite prominently. Everyone has been told to brand themselves — because it could affect your business(es), past, present, and future.
Earlier today, I saw a post bemoaning this face-first style of branding. The marketer said that they were actually getting tired of having to brand every post, to make sure every post fit Their Brand, to get dressed up a certain way to film their content, to have their personal page linked to their business page, and so on and so forth. They said that their “next business” would be “faceless” — as a means of reclaiming some privacy.
I SMH’d IRL. (And I don’t really say things like that — but that’s precisely what I did.)
“SMH,” I said. “Starting a second or third business just to have some more privacy?”
I understand where they’re coming from. I do. That’s why this blog is semi-anonymous. (I don’t post pictures on here, and I think only people who know me on a personal level would be able to speak on the Real Sally — whoever that is.)
But I think it’s wild how people are overburdened by their side hustles and business ventures — so they’ve decided to start another one. 😵💫
I see what the ultimate goal is — to jump ship from the photography business to the anonymous “Farmer’s Wife” recipe blog, from the photo-heavy recipe blog to the anonymous “Angora Lady” yarn sales site, from the knitting YouTube vlog to a faceless vlog with close-up shots of the hands, only.
People are tired of getting dressed up for their cooking videos — and they’re realizing they could just show shots of the counter and their hands. They don’t have to put on a full face of makeup or trim their beard to do an audio-only podcast about urban legends. People just want to be comfortable while they’re working. Having to be on all the time — as an influencer, as a micro-celebrity — is exhausting.
I’m glad I’ve never started a business. I’m fine with following someone else’s rules during the day, so that I can go home at night and not have to worry about things like overhead, sales figures, SEO, brand reach, or anything that requires strategic financial planning.
I’m glad I’m not an influencer, or a content creator, or a consultant. I am an anonymous blogger — and this is the only faceless business I plan on having.
If I Were A Rich Girl
I listened to a podcast the other day, where they said that J.D. Vance — a particularly loathsome fellow — is an elitist who still pretends to be an “aw, shucks” country boy.
As someone who’s an “aw, shucks” country girl from Kentucky — Authentically Country, because I’m descended from coal miners, sorghum farmers, sharecroppers, and maids — I can tell you that I don’t try to act like I’m impressed by silverware, senators, or Vetements.
None of it phases me. I can watch children in dirty diapers run out into the street in front of the trailer park, chasing Meemaw’s boyfriend’s pit bull. I could also watch a member of Congress snort cocaína off a $50,000 dinner plate without batting an eye.
None of it would shock me. Not because I know everything — but because I know that just about anything, good or horrible or funny, is possible in this world.
WAGs
I wouldn’t want to be a WAG — not really. It seems like a lot of work to be camera-ready, when I’d much rather be lounge-around-ready.
The one aspect of dating a professional athlete that truly fascinates me is that the players are apparently on the road all the time — and on training and travel days, you’d have the entire house/condo/castle/mansion* to yourself, if you wanted it that way.
That is fascinating. I’m sure I would miss him, especially if he’s a hunk, but imagine having a whole mansion to yourself. This mansion wouldn’t be MFH beige-and-gray. The walls might be off-white, but there would be pops of color. (Don’t ask me which colors — I haven’t even picked out our wedding colors yet.) It would be maximalist-minimalist, with a small-ish number of big-ish eccentric artworks and pieces of furniture.
Nothing too ostentatious — and no sculptures. I don’t want anything that couldn’t be knocked over, and I don’t want anything that’s difficult to dust or to clean.
(I’ve thought a lot about the sculpture situation in this imaginary mansion, I know, but it pays to be prepared. What if he’s a good player and has lots of trophies? I’ll need to dedicate my energy to figuring out how to get those dusted.)
I’d want to live a simple life. I would be an uncomplicated WAG. I wouldn’t ask for designer stuff, because I would rather wear plastic Walmart bags fashioned into a dress than to wear any Coco Chanel. No, thanks.
I would fall asleep in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, with a fake fire burning in the electric fireplace, and a book open on my lap. I’d read twenty pages at a time, and I’d drink a few cups of masala chai or cold brew, and I’d call my man and make sure he knew how grateful I am.
I would be a WAGG — a wife (and/or) grateful girlfriend. Especially on road match weekends.
* This is a game of MASH. I’m going to live in a castle with a Premier League player. We’re going to have 7 kids and drive a tractor. 🚜💨