I did a random word generator that gave me the words "privacy" and "heat"...

It's hot in here. I knew it was before I realized, but then I still did. You realize a lot when you lock yourself in the bathroom. Like I never paused to consider how medical the lighting in here felt. We'll have to get something to soften that out.

I'm not worried, our door broke like this before. I just have to wait for one of my roommates to come home and open it from the outside. I'm just annoyed because I left my phone in my room. But this is as good a time as any to dig into my roommates' bathroom junk. We don't have any shelves besides the one that's falling over, so all our junk is just thrown together in the cabinet under the sink. I see the usual suspects (razors, my toothbrush, more razors, Randy's contact solution, more razors - I think Randy bought them in bulk, he's super hairy from what I can see), but I'm looking for the orange gleam of a pill bottle. Carter's emergency underwear is still back here. He pooped his pants once in college at an orchestra concert and now he has a pair hidden in every room.

They smell normal, though.

Just kidding, I didn't smell them. Or at least I would never admit to it.

Fine, I smelled them. And wore them like a hat, it was funny. Don't tell Carter.

Finally, Benji's Adderall. It's weird that he keeps it here. I feel like if I had ADHD, I would keep it right next to my bed to make sure I remembered to take it first thing in the morning, but I guess I don't really get to have an opinion on that, so never mind.

I wouldn't have taken two of his Adderall if I had my phone on me, but I would have taken the first one regardless. How long does it take to hit? Is it like weed? I did Adderall once in college to stay up late studying for a chem final, but then I lost track of time and studied through my test time. Sort of like "The Gift of the Magi", except not at all. I'm trying really hard to remember when it hit then. I miss college, it was a lot easier to make friends in college. I hope I'm old enough one day to have more to talk about than college.

I should start a timer. 

Wait, I never take my watch off. I took it off last week to have sex, but then I put it on right after. Okay, I wasn't having sex. I accidentally burned my arm in the oven making a cookie for myself while my roommates were out at a party, and I took my watch off to soak my arm in cold water. My watch isn't waterproof and I cried for 30 minutes, but I put it back on after. But where is it now?

Focus.

I should just try and break down the door. Should I just try and break down the door? If I broke the door down, I could go to my phone. I have to break the door down. I'll take two steps back, as much of a runway as I can fabricate. I have to channel my inner Miss Piggy, "Hi-YA!" Just run. Take the two steps and kick the door down. Or punch it? I wish I could Google this.

Maybe just "check" the door like hockey players do to each other. 1, 2, 3, RUN! THUD.

Okay ouch.

"Is something wrong?!"

"Carter?"

"Martin?"

"Have you been home this whole time?"

"I've been home all day. Are you okay?"

"Can you open the door? I'm locked in."

"Oh, shit yeah, it's sticking again?"

My hero.

"Thank you so much, man."

"Wait, are you wearing my underwear on your head?"

Shit.

I can't not blog about my train ride yesterday before I go to bed

It was awful. Amtrak is dead to me (until I go home in a few months).

Train at 1:30.

I wake up at 11am (don't judge I was home for Christmas): "TRAIN DELAYED DUE TO MANDATORY CREW REST PERIOD". Okay no big deal we live 10 mins from the station and my dad's day is clear.

Train set to arrive, 4pm. My sister and I get there at 3:45 (thanks dad!). We see the train about 100 yds away we think (we actually landed on 150, 100 felt to small but it's what I've been saying anyways). Dead. Stopped. It's under 30 degrees (F), it's freezing literally. 4, 4:15. 4:30, 4:45, 5:00 all these times pass. Regina (sister) calls Amtrak, because the app won't update with any info beyond the 4pm estimated time of arrival, even though that's well in the rearview. We call our dad to come let us sit in his car in the parking lot. Some stranger joins us (by invite). The train comes one minute after he arrives.

We're on the train and the outlets don't work on our side, so I plug my phone in at the front of the car (only 4 rows ahead of us, right by these two ladies that wouldn't stop talking about the train and narrating everything happening around them. Regina called them the "two comedians". I live-texted our other sister about them. I sent this, an excerpt of their dialogue:

"Please god I hope I don't get the flu. I've been a good girl. I've been mostly behaved on the train."

"You've been very behaved on the train"

"Well we did scare all those people off earlier... [a minute passes] may need to break open the bar [another minute passes] oh southwest is up to 28 hundred flights canceled"

One of them had those kinds of hair extensions that is tinsel. She said she and her partner (pretty sure a boyfriend or husband, but I missed that detail) do couples massages every New Year's Eve. "Usually it makes me feel pretty loosey goosey, you know? And I like that feeling, you know?" She said.

So anyways they were on the same train as us.).

We sat next to two people meeting for the first time (a teacher of sorts and an off-broadway prop designer) who were having such a boring conversation, but the teacher either had a really old iPod touch or like the original iPhone, it was so tiny, which was neat.

A baby cried, I had one bite of and then threw out the worst sandwich of my life from the café car (which the "two comedians" called the bar car).

Our original arrival to Penn Station estimated at 5:30, (before the first delays of the day). Actual arrival time around 10:30, so that sucked, but I lived to tell the tale and can exploit the story now in this post while I fight the good fight (the one against Amtrak Customer Relations team until they give me a free ride voucher or something).

-Henry

Pig

                me and Pig, taken by Michael

It's time I come clean with you all. I am obsessed with a small adorable 2-3 inch stuffed animal pig named Pig, and I have been for years (photos of everything I talk about at the end).

Pig (who uses any and all pronouns given it is an inanimate object) came into my life on August 31, 2020, that's right she's a Virgo. I was in the Binghamton, NY Wegman's (fine, the Johnson City Wegman's if we're really splitting hairs) grabbing a few quick things. Classes started the next day for my final semester of college (yes I finished in 3.5 years whatever guys it's fine), and my school friend Charlie asked me to get her a notebook (now that school is over we are still friends, don't worry). I passed by the stuffed animal display on my way to the notebook and I kid you not did a double take. Seriously, I'm not kidding, love at first sight. I'm sick.

I texted "Found a notebook xx"

Charlie texted "send pic!" (she's an autocaps off sorta guy)

I texted "This pic is unrelated but I accidentally fell in love with this pig stuffed animal" with an accompanying photo of Pig, no notebook in sight.

It's at this point that I should mention that Pig from Ganz's "Tossimals" line of small, bean-bag-sized stuffed animals. You'll remember Ganz as the people behind Webkinz, the 2008ish-12ish craze.

I haven't really been this down bad for a stuffed animal since my first Webkinz, Red Eyes, the red-eyed tree frog. I would hold his hand in mine, his four little fingers woven between my own. I always have been very soothed and comforted by a soft touch or texture. I love cotton and cotton blends, but I can't stand velvet, it's too smooth, go figure. I remember when Red Eyes eventually got a hole in his fabric (worn down after years of me holding it) and I probably cried, definitely freaked out, and 100% ripped him up in a fit of rage instead of just finding a needle and thread to fix it. As a kid, I would bottle up all my feelings and then once in a while destroy something I loved as a means of expressing my anger. Despite my best efforts, I can never forget the day I dropped my iPod nano and it cracked a little bit, and then the screen just wasn't 100% responding to my touch, and I got so mad at myself for breaking the iPod that I slowly pressed the screen really hard against the hard wooden corner of my bed frame until it was completely inoperable.

I'm happy to report I don't rage quite as hard anymore (yes I do, I almost really messed up my teeth last year, let's not go there though please).

But anyways, I took Pig home and over the next few months I realized its tail, when held in my finger crotch, gave the same soft-fabric comfort as Red Eyes's hands. I knew from Red Eyes, though, the longer I held Pig, the more likely it would wear the fabric down to the point of tearing. I wouldn't couldn't didn't bear to accept that reality, so months later, when I was visiting my friends in Binghamton (because I didn't live there anymore because I already graduated college but they were taking the full 4 years not just 3.5 so I decided to visit them) I made a pitstop at that Wegman's and bought 3 more pig stuffed animals so that when it was time for Pig to retire (whenever I decided it was too delicate), another pig could step in to take its place. I'm glad I did because last Christmas I left Pig at home when I went back to Brooklyn, but Pig 2 was waiting there for me! Pig 2 goes by "Pig" but I know which one is which (truth be told I purposefully lost Pig OG in the mess that is my closet so I'm not tempted to wear it down any more.

(By the way, just to interject, I know this is all weird. My family and friends all know all of this and think it's weird).

Summer 2021, I got a disposable camera to bring to the lake. My family goes to Garnet Lake, NY every 4th of July week; it's the most perfect place in the world (am I using ; right?) I decided I would fill those 26 shots or so with glamor shots of Pig, which I've since printed and compiled in a photo album, which I can't seem to find, which would actually suck way worse if I didn't have scans of all the images. There's some silly ones (Pig doing cocaine, Pig in a pile of money) and some serious ones (Pig in hydrangeas, literally shockingly beautiful). They're all blurry because the film was definitely expired, but beggars can't be choosers.

I've emailed the Ganz corporation to try and buy a bulk order, and I haven't given up hope at one day having a little pig farm, but this is how that exchange went (if I forgot to block any sensitive information please just promise you won't use it!)

So that's a tough pill to swallow.

That's pretty much the end of this story... or is it just the beginning? Pig has been with me now to Spain, Los Angeles, end of list, so she's really a world traveler. I'm so excited to see where Pig and I go, both together and separately, in the new year, and when in life (if ever) I give up my reliance on soft inanimates for comfort that should ultimately stem from a positive self-view.

___________________________________________________________

PHOTOS: 

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Henry Sinnott (@hanklet_)

my Instagram post dedicated to Pig on his first birthday. Scroll through to see Pigs 2-4, Pig's birth chart, and the text conversation that started it all

Red Eyes, my first love (jk wayyyy not my first I had a snake stuffed animal as a baby named "Snakey" that my parents eventually hid from me and yelled at my cousin when he told me where it was hidden)

iPod nano in question

Weak

I've always been weak. If you're a boy and you're 8 you're not weak you're just sensitive. If you're a boy and you're 8 you're not weak you just do theatre. If you're a boy and you're 8 you're not weak you're just a 23-year-old waiting to come out of his shell.

I watched Glass Onion this week, and I loved it!

My train back to the city is delayed today, but in the way that they told me about the delay hours ahead and the station is close to my house so I just have to chill at home a little longer than initially anticipated. Nice. I got the humidifier I want for Christmas but now I have to take it on the train. That's not gonna be fun, but I just finished packing it away in two tote bags (one upside down on top inside one normal one on bottom) so hopefully.

I didn't realize trains could just be delayed, which is very naive of me (for the record, I know how to do the i with the ï on my keyboard, I just had an existential crisis about how it would be perceived to actually use that ï without letting everybody know that I know it's a little... you know... to just use the ï like that). I sorta thought like okay the wheels of a train are so secure in the track that even if snow or ice built up it would sorta just get forced out in the course of normal train business. And it's not like trains can get caught in a traffic jam, or at least it shouldn't be like that.

My dad is making a sandwich in the other room. Sort of annoying because I was about to do that.

The School Bus

Bucky pulled to 317 Vistaterra Blvd in sunny San Diego, (just kidding it's a cold non-descript suburb in Akron). There were already 13 kids on the bus. Two kindergarteners, a 1st grader, four 2nd graders, no 3rd graders (yet), and three 4th graders with one 5th-grader older sibling each. This was Destiny Park's house. She was the first 3rd grader of the day, and she liked having the whole 3rd-grade section of the bus to herself for a few stops. Sometimes she would use the time to finish her homework. Other times she would read, but more than anything she would gaze. Ponder, gaze, and think. Isn't that what buses are for?

Well anyways, Bucky opened the bus's door in front of the far end of Destiny's driveway (or actually her parent's driveway, Destiny doesn't actually help with the mortgage payments, has she been saying she does?) and waited.

And waited.

One of the 4th graders chimed up. "Why aren't we moving?" It was the boy who was way too eager during bus safety day about pulling the emergency brake if the bus driver passed out or died. He was always looking for an excuse to pull it.

"We're waiting for Destiny."

"But I have to go bathroom," it was one of the kindergarteners. They were always pulling this shit.

So Bucky waited. Cars were getting mad.

Honk! Honk! Wait. Wait.

A car passed on the left, but almost hit another car (but didn't... phew.).

"This is some sick power trip buddy?!" a car screamed. Cars get so angry sometimes. It's best not to take their words to heart.

Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait! Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. 

School has started. A few cars have passed. The kindergarteners have both peed themselves. The 4th graders have convinced the 1st graders to give them his lunch. The 1st grader has cried. The 1st grader has moved back one row to talk to the 2nd graders. The 1st grader has gotten yelled at for changing seats by the 5th graders. The 1st grader has thrown up. The 1st grader has fallen asleep. Bucky hasn't moved.

"Why can't we go?" the bravest 4th grader finally walked to the front of the bus.

"We're waiting for Destiny."

"I don't think she's coming to school today, and I have a spelling test," the 4th grader.

"It's okay. We'll wait."

And they did.

Waited. Rain fell and they did. 

Wait. 

What Next...

It's one of those moments. I woke up, I did more work than I expected to do. I made a really nice 2 pm breakfast (bacon, egg, and cheese, sandwich, but I made all of it). I read every article about Keke Palmer hosting SNL last night. It's 3:41 pm and I have nothing to do until 8 when Real Housewives of Potomac starts. I feel good, I feel productive, but fuck! What do I do now?

I'll admit, I don't want to write. It must be awkward for you the reader to hear this. It must feel discouraging to be a short ways into a blog post and hear that its author's heart isn't all there. For that, I apologize, but not genuinely, as that would require a change in behavior.

I don't need to catch up on any TV shows, besides the Real Housewives of Potomac at 8.

I got a little high, but I should have prepared an activity first. Getting high bored tends to amplify the empty sound.

I guess I can work on the crossword. Right? Maybe I'll take my puzzle apart. Last week I did this puzzle. Isn't it beautiful?

It's weird, this is the first Christmas szn that I don't have a specific reason to be actively excited (and so sorry if this is wildly offensive to my parents). I'll go home for 4 days and get some sweet presents (my love language is "gifts" so it's not shallow when I talk about presents), but I probably won't take more than a day off work, and as much as I enjoy spending time with them I just saw the fam for a week in November. And before that a week in October. Is this what I'm supposed to be talking about in therapy? I've done now a hefty handful of therapies and I think I tricked him into thinking I'm fine because he threw out just doing once a month last time.

Ugh whatever, I'll probably just masturbate 14 times and then order something expensive and wreckless online, like shelves.

I've been writing a lot just for me for fun, so I'm sorry if this post doesn't have the normal verve that you, the readers, have come to know and expect of me. Please feel free to tell me what you don't like about me in the comments below. Thank you for clinging onto the edge of the cliff that is this blog post for this long, but I think it's time I stomp on your fingertips.

Fall's Last Gasp (+ a playlist)

It's my favorite time of the year, the two weeks between Thanksgiving and two weeks after Thanksgiving, a microseason I am lovingly deciding to name "Fall's Last Gasp".

This is the only time of the year you're thinking "Why hasn't it snowed yet?" and "It's snowing already?!" at the same time.

Schoolchildren everywhere are praying to a god they don't believe in for a snowstorm, or a bus driver to die, or something, anything, to get out of school. Once they get a taste for vacation at Thanksgiving, the hunger becomes insatiable. But there's always that one bitch who is like, "Um... actually, if we use more than two snow days, the district has to add those days back on at the end of the year." Like, okay nerd, maybe try living in the present for once in your life??

My favorite part about Fall's Last Gasp? Honey, the wind. It's freezing and terrible, isn't that awesome? Jk. What I do like about the sub-freezing wind chill, though, is that everybody dresses wrong for the weather. They think it's gonna be a cool 52 but the wind chill brings it down to -6. Nobody knows if they're supposed to wear a scarf or not. It's the best.

I've commemorated this epic time in our lives with, of course, a playlist. I hope these 10 songs will make you think "I don't get it" and also feel sad.

Happy Fall's Last Gasp!

Weird Experiment From Last May (From The Vault) (Henry's Version)

I'm loving blogging because I can sort of unload all the weird ideas I've had over the last few years. Here's one of those (screenshots below), and let's first understand that I was stoned making this, and let's second understand that I still sorta love it.

So I wanted to learn Excel. Jk, fuck Excel this was Google Sheets. 

Really, I just had the idea to write something where you could read the lines in reverse and see how it felt. I didn't put much thought into the little story, and I don't really like it that much, but it was the structure that I was really focused on.

I tried to be so artsy about what box I highlighted with the cursor before I took each screenshot, thinking I would post this on Instagram and everybody would say "oh, Henry, that's so artsy, do you want to hang out with me more as a result of me learning how artsy you are", as one does. But I never posted it on Instagram because I knew in my heart that the execution didn't yet match the idea, but the blog can have my Instagram's table scraps I guess lol.

While I played in Excel (and you're welcome for color coding, by the way), I also tried layering the lines around in weird patterns (okay so not to brag but I did learn Excel a little bit, I used formulas that I've since forgotten, but major nerd alert on my part lol). 

If I were to try this again, I would write in third-person perspective and have it be an 8-line murder mystery somehow, so when the lines change order, it changes the way clues are revealed to the reader? I probably won't do it again any time soon though. I'll be honest, as I write this blog, I'm remembering that by the end of making this the first time I stopped enjoying it, and that's how writing this blog post is going, so I'm just gonna bail here. Enjoy it or don't! I don't care! It's just for practice!

Byeeeeeee.

It's Snowing

It's snowing, it's knowing it's going, it's blowing it, showing it, growing fit, owing a bit, owning it.

Snowing.

Remembering My Summer Alone (photos and my webseries!)

In the Summer of 2020, when nobody was looking at each other, I lived alone in a studio apartment in Binghamton, NY in a building called "The Windermere" that used to be a hotel and has since become a frat house. Earlier that year while living with my parents I drew a big vending machine (just a way to pass the time), but I brought it with me to Binghamton and decided I had to do something with it, so I wrote, shot, and edited a 5-episode web series so that the vending machine could be a featured set piece. It's called "Home Work" and it's a workplace comedy.

Check out some pics from that summer, and my full web series, below!

My Upstairs Neighbors Win The Award for "Having Sex At a Volume"

I find I don't mind it, I wonder if I do.

Having upstairs neighbors and being somebody's upstairs neighbors are two very different feelings. As a second-floor resident of a three-story apartment building, I feel uniquely qualified to speak on this experience.

One time I came home (from a party, yes I get invited to parties) and my downstairs neighbor was taking out her dog, so we crossed paths. She realized who I was in real time, saying, "Oh, the party's just on the first floor, oh never mind," and I mumbled back, "uh, I live here," and she laughed. I wonder if the third floor was invited?

In my life, I've never really wanted to meet my neighbors, I've just never cared much about their business. When I was a kid, our neighbors Bryce and Lynn had two cute dogs and a pool they would let us use, but we always got stung by bees when we would go over. Did they know about the bees?

When we moved to New York, we rented a house on a big hill and our across-the-street neighbors were our landlords. Sometimes they would pay one of us kids to dogsit for them when they went out of town, (shout out Renegade! Best dog ever! (dead now)) and they were nice, but I think one time they hired somebody to do some amount of construction or maintenance in or around the house, and he worked for like weeks or months in our garage but never made any progress, and we found out he was an alcoholic and stole one of our bikes, but then the landlords didn't do anything about it. I sympathize with his suffering, but the landlords probably shouldn't have let him be in our garage every day for so long.

Freshman year of college, I had a random roommate who joined a frat. He was super nice to me and only had sex while I was in the room two nights in a row and then never again. Three years later, I was at improv practice, and my teammate told me he was good friends with our neighbors from freshman year, and that our neighbors thought I was afraid of my roommate by the way they saw me in the hallway. I find that funny, because I never feared him, I just feared everybody. He shared his weed with me and always asked if I was okay with him smoking in the room. I don't know if he's a good person (I hope he is) but he was a good roommate. My roommate the next year was so messy and was barely in the room, and one time he was arrested for having cocaine in the room (while I was at work, he never told me, I only know from eavesdropping on him telling his friend on the phone, I'll never not eavesdrop).

I should get over my fear of opening up and knock on my neighbor's door one day to say hi. Keyword: "should". I think being friends with my neighbors would increase my life expectancy by at least five years, but what's five more years if I'm just spending them hiding from my neighbors?

First Aid Kit's Palomino - Some of My Favorite Lyrics

Okay, at this point if you know me you know that I love one band and that band is First Aid Kit (if you thought you knew me but you didn't know this, now you know this so you probably know me, at least as of now)

They just released their first new album in a couple of years, Palomino. I was a freshman in college the last time we got a new full-length album. I vividly remember it being on repeat while I would walk to improv group auditions in the dim campus twilight wanting to die of anxiety and fear, the steady bass drum from "Fireworks" tempering my nervous heart. The new album finds me back in improv classes and practicing improv with some of my friends for the first time since the pandemic, so a little serendipitous if nothing else.  

I love their new album, and I wanted to share a few of my favorite lyrics in no particular order, so that is what you're getting for the rest of this post. 

From "Fallen Snow"

When you think that I'm not watching

I can see a bleakness in your smile

I know all the depths you've gone to

To lift the sorrow from your eyes

Oh, was it worth your while? 

The picture this paints is just so beautiful. Trying to put up a happy front, but you can never hide from those who know you the best. This is one of my favorite songs on the album. I gasped when I listened to it alone in bed at 12:15 am for the first time.

From "Wild Horses II"

Where do you go to when you look past me?

Do you see yourself miserable and free?

You've got to be fucking kidding me. Note that this is the fourth verse, and it actually echos the opening line of the song "'Where are we going?', something you asked me", though of course now the pronouns have changed from "we" to "you". This is through and through a storytelling song, and it's not a happy story being told. The fifth verse locks in our heroes' fate.

"I hate who we've become," spoken like an absolute

Just listened to you speak, there was nothing to dispute

I guess something shifted, I guess something died

Thought I couldn't change it, so I didn't even try 

It's over! It's over for these other hoes (all other esteemed musicians)! They don't even get it!

From "A Feeling That Never Came"

I go back there time and time again

Looks I stole when you weren't watching

I stood at the corner, solemn in the rain

Waiting for something, a feeling that never came

I got too drunk and embarrassed myself

Thought I'd be enough if I was someone else

Kissed in the sweet sweltering heat

On Bowery or maybe Delancey Street

This one's long, and I'm not gonna pretend it's short. The rhyme scheme and melody of the song sorta lend to this whole passage feeling like one big long line when you listen to it (in a way that Fiona Apple lyrics sometimes feel like one big long line). I think it's my top favorite song off the album, and it's such an innocent memory of a relationship that could have been but never was. It speaks to a universal insecurity and makes listeners feel less alone. And hmmm... I love that!

From "Ready To Run"

So I've stopped making those conclusions

Thinking you could truly know someone

You peel a layer, find another

No, you're never really done

I like this one because it is kind of stupid, and I say that as the biggest First Aid Kit fan you will ever meet in your life. Just the step-by-step visual of peeling a layer of something, and then what's that?! another layer?! I don't know exactly what it is, but something about the lyrics themselves feels patronizing, but I like that forced, cliché, manufactured sort of expression. Something about putting your full authenticity behind an idea that feels overused or often inauthentic I find to be really special and brilliant, and I'll never know (and never want to know) if this was an intentional move, though I am pretty crazy and even typing this all out now feel it would be too crazy to plan to be ironically patronizing to one's listeners. I laugh a little every time this lyric comes up.

Anyways stream Palomino and comment below if you have any favorite tracks!

[QUICK EDIT: I left out my actual favorite lyric of the album (lmao lmao dumbass vibes) from the song "The Last One" chorus: "How I wasted my time before you. How I wasted my time before you wasted my time before I knew you." LIKE?!!!!!! I think this may be an accident, because the phrasing online splits the second sentence like "How I wasted my time before you // wasted my time before I knew you", so if it's not meant as a continued sentence but rather a repeat of the same sentence just without the first word, I'm choosing to interpret as a continued sentence. "How I wasted my time before you wasted my time" ??? come on! You can't write this stuff!]

I'm Starting a New Puzzle

Not my photo, this isn't a puzzle I'm working on

I'm Starting a New Puzzle. But I'm not gonna finish it, probably. I hardly ever do. Finish a puzzle, that is. I wonder why that is? Could it stem from an unwillingness to complete a project, knowing success will only leave me empty and void of an immediate purpose, adrift, crawling around my apartment until I can find a drawer to avoid cleaning or the bed to never make?

No, I don't think so. 

My favorite puzzles are the ones that are cool pictures. Kinda basic, kinda "first thought", but so what.

The puzzle has hot air balloons, and I'm gonna be completely honest, I'm not actually gonna start it anytime soon. I want to start it, but more so wanted a catchy blog post title.

I watch a puzzle YouTuber sometimes, Karen Puzzles, who has a rabid fanbase. She went to the national puzzle competition and there was a 6-hour YouTube live stream put on by the USA Jigsaw Puzzle Association, and all the comments were "Show Karen Puzzles! Where's Karen!? We want Karen Puzzles!" Like... sorry folks, you'll get your Karen Puzzles fill, but forgive me for wanting to check in on the frontrunners! Put some respect on Sarah Schuler and Dawne Rasmusson.

In college, I had a months-long phase where every day I would go to the Fine Arts building (either before improv practice, between classes, or to kill time before an obligation on campus), sit on the couches, take out my laptop, and do the daily puzzle on jigzone.com while the ballroom dance club trickled in to practice in the hallway. I can't tell if they were good at ballroom dance or not but I think they were all at least fine.

Fine Arts is one of those buildings that's a maze. Most buildings are, but that doesn't mean this one wasn't. And eventually, you realize that maze is really just one big loop and then like 2 hallways that branch off. It wasn't that hard. That's sort of a metaphor for something, TBD what, maybe I haven't learned that in life yet. I saw in an interview recently Drew Barrymore was doing that she said she doesn't really like kids or teen or young adult romance plots because she's already learned the lessons the characters are learning and now I worry that nobody older than me will ever respect me because they've already learned what I'm learning and don't care to watch me learn it. Sorry to disappoint you, Drew.

Scattered Thoughts About "Dancing With the Stars"

Sorry!

"Dancing With the Stars" is the best show on TV. My roommate told me recently that she heard that the joke in Hollywood circles is like, "Oh, so-and-so is doing DWTS? Have we checked up on them?" because of how hard they have to work to turn out those dances, like they need a wellness check. I like the weeks when they have to learn two dances. (Make them work harder!)

DWTS would fall apart without Carrie Ann Inaba. She's nuts and sometimes fully bullies contestants. I love her.

Since High School, I have fantasized about getting on "Dancing With the Stars", and making it to Disney Week (or Disney+ week as it's now called, and the switch to Disney+ is very interesting. Everybody hates it, it's nice to not have commercials, and it's funny that they still always run out of time at the end of the episodes even though there's nothing on after so they could always just take a few extra minutes, and end at 10:07 or something, but no, god forbid. I'm sure that it has something to do with ad dollars somewhere being wasted. Unrelated note, but I miss Tom Bergeron. I know we're not getting rid of Tyra Banks anytime soon, but I resent that Tom wasn't kept on with Tyra as co-host.), and doing a Samba or Paso Doble or Tango or Argentine Tango or Salsa or something to "Special Order" from Ratatouille, and my partner (seriously can't choose who I'd most want to be paired with) plays Colette and I play Linguini obviously, but she leads and I follow because that is the dynamic that they have in those kitchen scenes. It would be risky, "What if the judges don't like it?", but I know we'd be fine as I'd be killing it in the competition and an overwhelming fan-favorite on social media, and I wouldn't receive a single death threat in my DMs, and I wouldn't have to be really scared about receiving a death threat in my DMs.

I guess I shouldn't cross that bridge until etc.

I've seen the "DWTS: Live" Tour once, at Saratoga Performing Arts Center (SPAC), and Rumer Willis sang "Perhaps Perhaps Perhaps" live, but as the first song after intermission, so we were all still finding our seats again during a lot of the number, though I still caught most of it. I think I also saw a pro injure themselves during a dance, though the specifics escape me. It was a quickstep and they were dressed like sailors, I think. I'll never understand the decision to put "Perhaps Perhaps Perhaps" where they did, though, it could have been a big showstopper as the act 1 finale.

That's all for now. I may have more to say, in fact, I know I will, I haven't even mentioned the 24-hour fusion challenge. But that's more than enough for now.

P.S. For season 31 I'm Team Charli, I always root for the frontrunners, and anybody who complains about "past dance experience" is an idiot. Like, "sure yeah, let's vote out the better people because they danced too well and we liked their performance too much." As if! I'd be happy to see pretty much any couple win at this point. Maybe not Trevor just based on scores, though.

(just sort of writing in character and then a quick blog re-intro)

I wonder if my kids hate me. I wonder if my kids hate me?

You know that I try really hard. This last week I took my son to get pizza in Bushwick. Near where he lives. I went to him. I think that’s a pretty big step? 

My daughter? That's tougher, legally speaking. I got her to drop the lawsuit last week (and let's take a moment to celebrate that!) but the restraining order remains in force. I'm still working on how to navigate Christmas this year. 100 yards doesn't seem like a long distance until you're watching the Super Bowl.

I got her oldest a lego set. I don't really see the appeal, and I don't really like them much at all. I suppose that was redundant, but I've been called a lot worse than "redundant" in my life, so I'll take it. Anyways, his name is Leo, and he's really into legos. I told my daughter she should just change his name to Lego, it would be kind of cute. It would make me like legos more. I was kidding a little, but if she ever wanted to I would offer to help.

I got her second oldest a car. Of course a model car, like a toy, not a real one. Again with this one, I just don't understand what my grandson will like about this, but I know it is the right choice. He will look me in the eyes and say "thank you grandpa" and hug me, and then the car will sit on a shelf and collect dust, and probably a lot of it. And that means he loves me. It's green.

I got her youngest a pacifier. That sort of works out nicely, that she has a baby. You don't really have to think about what to get a baby, as long as it's colorful and plastic. Oddly enough, this is the gift I understand the value in. The baby will feel soothed and comforted, and the gift is practical and will receive lots of use. My daughter will probably feel I've put the least effort into the pacifier, but I looked up brands and compared online. It's the Doddle & Co. Pop Pacifier. I found it on Amazon, only $18 for a 2-pack, which is weird because I thought baby stuff would be way more expensive than it is. I just want my daughter to forgive me. I wish their mother was here to help fix things. Good Housekeeping says it's the easiest pacifier to clean, so I thought she would appreciate that.

So I think I'll get a hotel room in her town, and on Christmas Day I won't be able to go to her but her husband can bring the kids to my hotel room, and I think there will be a pool. And I think if my daughter chooses, she is allowed to break the order and come, but she would have to come to me, and I wouldn't be able to go to her house at all. It makes me feel like a vampire, almost, having to be invited in, though it's not quite the same situation. That's what this is, a situation.

                                                                                                                                                                           

Hey everybody, welcome back to my blog, Hanks For Nothing (formerly blogwithablog formerly applegirl formerly blogwithablog). I'm mostly only writing this post because my friend last night said she started blogging (hi caroline!) and I thought it would be fun to dive in again. I assume nobody will read this part of this blog post, so I'm not gonna put much more effort into it, but I thought a brief hello was in order after so long away from the blog. Can you tell I like the word blog? See ya later!