❤︎ See you on the other side, Liesel

This is my friend Liesel, if you weren't in high school with me you probably don't know who she is. We didn't get to spend time together as adults, though we did get to reconnect. It wasn't enough. 

One of her defining characteristics was her eternal love for Ozzy Osbourne. I didn't have much of an opinion on him in high school, but I could see why she thought he was cool. (I have since gotten it together, obviously. Ozzy is eternal.) She wore a black leather jacket and gently towered over most of us. She was never loud, but she wasn't to be silenced. She was fearless, but in a serene way. She wasn't really intimidating, but she was difficult to read and ready with a sharp comment...if you were lucky enough to hear it. Looking back, I realize she, among other things, was a significant influence on my desire not to give a shit what anyone thought of me. 

I love and still cherish many whom I was acquainted with, but she was a true friend, which I didn't have many of back then. I don't recall how we met but she'd wait for me to hang out between classes, we'd have sleepovers, we'd spend hours on the phone talking about absolutely nothing until we fell asleep, we made use of the student phone number list when we were bored (not sorry to anyone we called), we shared music and she (of all people!) made fun of my love for Steven Tyler, and we did dumb stuff you're supposed to do as teenagers. She was my person for that time in my life. 

The other member of our unlikely motley crew, she knows who she is--we're still connected, was also a constant companion, and we three spent many a day at the creek when we were supposed to be in class. Our symbol was red feet because we would put our feet in the cold creek and they'd turn bright cherry red. 

When we did reconnect years after graduation, she still had that giggle, and we'd talk on the phone but she'd tell me about her kids and I'd tell her about whatever boy or work drama was going on. The topics were different, but the feeling was the same. She struggled more than she deserved but she still treated people well. I expect her level of patience and tolerance for snark came into play in her job working with seniors. She experienced teenage me, so that's probably good preparation for that. 😅

Even in my youth, I recognized how important Liesel's loyalty was. I remember vividly, still, one day when I came out of class upstairs in the main building, and she was there waiting for me. I didn't have to ask or hope; we didn't plan, she just knew where I was, and she wanted to spend time with me. It was the first time in a long time that it didn't feel like a struggle to have a friend. That is what I always remembered about her. I could always make her laugh. She would laugh and call me crazy, and I'd laugh and tell her she was crazy, and not once did either of us consider the other should be any different. 

She gave me the space to simply be me more than almost anyone I've ever known. There were no expectations. We never had baggage or drama with each other. She didn't care if I was boring or ridiculous. She didn't judge what I liked or didn't like. She was along for the ride, either way. The sillier, the better, really. Though it had been ages since we talked, I'm feeling the void, the space she no longer fills. It's like a wound reopened. I had intended to reach out to her on Facebook a few weeks ago, for reasons I can't remember now, and I forgot or got distracted and never did. I wish we'd been able to spend more time together again. I could have been a better friend along the way but I hope she knew she was always special to me. 

I had just started to be able to listen to Ozzy without crying but now we're kinda back to square one there but I'm going to listen for her: https://youtu.be/WCA0LyJ9r2g?si=vWcV7erRkP95x6KD 

Love you. See you on the other side.

Learn more about her life here: https://www.altogetherfuneral.com/obituaries/d-21388736/liesel-danielle-riehl-gruse/february-2026 

(I'd like everyone to know her shirt says I ❤ Slayer...and I hate you.)

Remembering Nancy

 

If you don't know Nancy, she's my step-grandmother, better known in the grandkid circle as Nannan. She held the honor of being the last grandma I had left. I didn't grow up with her, but we became family when I was a teen. She's been instrumental in my successes for many reasons. I didn't really comprehend how highly she thought of me until I was older. I'll share some memories so you can get to know her, too. 

Summer with Nan: Peaches, peaches, peaches. 

I'd occasionally spend some time in Grand Junction over my summer breaks. If you know much about her, you know she loved peaches. It was always a treat to have dinner out on their back patio--grilled steak, fresh corn on the cob, iced tea, and fresh peaches for dessert. They had a magical yard full of flowers and birds and critters, and I enjoyed time with their inside critters as well. Many pets ago, Sophie the fluffy orange cat and I were fast friends. Their dog also enjoyed summer walks and extra pets. I once got a letter from Nancy when I returned home, where she said one of the pets was "in seventh heaven," and my mother kindly explained that it did NOT mean one of them had died, but it was just that they enjoyed the extra attention while I was there. One of my favorite movies as a kid was All Dogs Go to Heaven, but I thought maybe it had a special number; I didn't know the phrase. I was not keen on the western slope summer heat, but the trip where she was watching the neighbor's house, and I got to enjoy the pool all to myself, I was the one in summer seventh heaven. 

We spent an afternoon once (though I'm not 100% sure it was in the summer) making Whoopie Pies. Those became a big favorite of mine. I could never quite duplicate it, but I do still have her handwritten recipe. My absolute favorite thing she made was her Christmas cookies. I was skeptical at first, as a connoisseur of thick sugar cookies with a hearty amount of frosting. Hers were paper-thin with delicate decorating sugar, and the snowmen had little redhots for noses. She mailed them a couple of times and was always worried they would break, but I always ate the broken ones first, as cookie law requires, and I'd save the snowmen for last. Maybe I didn't care for biting their little heads off? The process was arduous, and I've never even attempted it. I don't think I have the patience. She didn't make them often as she got older and there were fewer big Christmas gatherings but I think of them every year. Maybe someday I'll give them a try. I might have that recipe somewhere as well. I've never had a cookie like it. They have a potato chip quality, in that you just want to keep eating them for the satisfying sweet crunch. 

She enjoyed a shopping trip and liked to treat me to some nice clothes or things for school now and then. She was a girl's grandma, for sure! She enjoyed pretty and colorful things. From flowers and birds to fashion and bags. She always found treasures and trinkets, usually something I'd never seen before. She and my husband have very similar tastes in jewelry, actually. I hope she'd approve that many of the items she's gifted me over the years now live in his collection. He wears them much more than I did, so they get to be on display as they deserve.  

The last time I saw her was when I graduated with my master's degree in Education in 2023. She was slowing down a bit and appeared more fragile than I remembered, but was still thrilled to be there. There was no question that she was coming to celebrate with us. I didn't do the big graduation thing when I got my bachelor's degree, and she was very excited that I chose to continue my education. She knew it was always a struggle for me. It was with her support that I was able to attend the high school that I did; if you don't know about that, it's one of the most significant reasons I...am. She saw me through from start to finish and was cheering me on the whole way. If I didn't go to that school, I think it is highly unlikely I would be where I am now, and I would not have an advanced degree in Education. 

Nancy was generous beyond measure, and she believed in me at every turn. She always liked getting letters and she always wrote back. That was most of our communication over the years. Even though we didn't have the same relationship as I did with my day-one grandmas and were very different, she always treated me like I was important. We should all be so lucky to have someone like that in our lives. 

So, go do something Nan might do. Write a letter, wear your favorite colors, sit and watch the birds, make some cookies, get a unique little trinket for someone you love, enjoy a fresh peach (when we get to again), and make sure the people you think are important know that. 

The Rest of the Story: 2025 ✨

 What a weird time that was. 

I'm not sure if anyone was entirely immune to the "wtf" nature of this last year but there are always points of joy amongst the muck. 

The year started off losing my grandpa Harold; you can read about him in an earlier post. I don't know what happened in February and much of March. I'm sure I was there. 

April was when things really changed. If you don't know the story, this is the short version (though it may not seem it). After numerous last straws in Hays, America (that'll be a whole post on it's own some day) the final boss straw came up. 

After trying out every opportunity afforded by our rural hamlet, Jason thought he'd try one last time and apply to bag pick up orders at Dillons. Get some steps in, chat with the shoppers, no big deal. Upon his SECOND visit, this is important to remember, the interviewer mentioned that they "have a policy" and he'd have to "cover his tattoos", while gesturing to her face (with her tattooed arm). He asked if they'd like him to come in with a mask on or a bag over his head. It was too absurd to not be somewhat humorous (they didn't notice the first visit?) but also too stupid to be tolerable. Multiple cashiers have visible tattoos, even facial tattoos. It was a puzzling situation to say the least, with much that came before, but it felt like the last exit to somewhere. We had the discussion we'd had many times of "what now" and on Sunday night, our eve of our 10th wedding anniversary, I told Jason to call someone and see what we could get from our house as a start to an exit strategy. On Monday, we had a number and an interested party. On Tuesday, April 1st, we sold our house to some awesome youngins that thought "it was the coolest house they'd ever seen". Then the true madness began. 

If you noticed that our "strategy" above did not include anywhere for us to live, you'd be correct. It wasn't until after we signed the paperwork to sell our Hays house that we had a moment to figure out the rest of that strategy. We'd considered for many years getting back to Colorado but since I had not found a job paying, at minimum, twice what I made then, it wasn't even an option. That was the case for many places, as most people know. We had a list of basic parameters for where we preferred to be and Jason put those into ChatGPT and asked for some cities that met those expectations. It came up with Peoria, IL. I checked it out and it's got downsides but it checked most of our boxes. It's also important to remember neither of us have stepped foot in Illinois to any real extent. 

Jason found a house he was interested in on the old Zillow. I thought it looked interesting--it was old, it had big porch pillars, it was central to town, all pretty good on paper and very affordable. We contacted someone, we got a virtual tour via video call, and we started the process to buy it that week. The house is another drama all in itself (lots of undisclosed details and thousands of dollars of unexpected work) but that's the one we bought and we're making the best of it. It has much potential and is slow going but it's going. That left us with the next obstacle of me having a job in Kansas and a house in Illinois. 

We got the Hays house fixed up with much help, we got Jason and the (absolutely furious) kitties transferred to Illinois with much help, and I was able to spend most of the fall semester with my beloved Nuggets in Kansas thanks to my family giving me a place to live during the transition, and a conveniently placed bestie who was kind enough to host me on my ocassional "commute". After much longer than expected, but I believe in the time it was meant to take, I was offered a student support position at Bradley University just a few minutes down the road from my house. 8 months of uncertainty, exhaustion, and stress but with it came lots of support. I could write pages on what happened during that time, but that's enough for now. 

[If you want to read my Farewell to the Fort, you can find that on the HC blog.] 

Unfortunately, I also lost a great-uncle in the summer and another grandparent right at the end of the year (she'll have a post soon, too). It was a year of big changes and we're very lucky to be able to make those changes but when you move on to something new you're leaving something else. While we were excited about the new opportunities and getting to be somewhere that suited us better, there was a lot of loss and grief coming in many forms. We all know the world was WEIRD and most of us know why but there's so much uncertainly there that it's hard to keep from wallowing in that, especially when the rest of your life is kinda weird too. 

I've been HOME home for a month and I've finally been able to start feeling like I live here. My husband is glad for a break from his own cooking. My cats might finally be convinced that I'm here to stay. We've been able to explore the city a little more and are spending time with the Unitarian Universalist community and meeting some cool people there. (I don't feel like saying I go to "church" sounds appropriate but they call it that.) We both miss some of what we left behind but the silver lining of knowing people in higher ed is that many of them don't stay in one place for long. They're on the move and now we are the people they can visit south of Chicago, and they are scattered all about the country for us to visit. It's harder to stay in touch but we make the effort because we know people worth the effort. 

My new job is going well and the new boss is excited to have fresh eyes on their process. I think I can be of use here and I'm pleased I get to continue doing student support, even if it looks quite different than it did before. If I haven't mentioned it--the mascot is a gargoyle named Kaboom and it's one of my favorite things. Out with the black and gold, in with the red. One of their taglines is: Whatever you do, BE YOU. 

While I could write chapters more, these are the big plot points to catch you up. So, what have you been up to? 

If you know the saying....we'll see if it plays in Peoria...

Did I mention we live 5 minutes from the Illinois River? 

The Ones Outside

The ones outside are always there. The barrier is like a snow globe. The ones outside don’t know what it’s like on the inside. They spy a little spark inside, imagine a possible peace. What’s it like in there? Is it cold, is it just right? Is the snow real? Is there any way in?

Us out here, we’re like ghosts that can bump into each other. We’re comfortably numb on the good days. Ethereal and magical, and not to be confined to what makes sense. Not meant to cross the barrier where the ones inside move about. When we get too close, oh it squeezes and squeezes until we might burst. We forget we can't cross. We move toward the spark--it whispers so familiar, there is a little breeze of joy, but then the squeeze comes and life flashes before our eyes in hot stabbing pains. Our breath is taken away like a punishment, only returned when we think it will never come.

Sometimes the ones inside might see us out here. They know we're here, they can feel it, they see a shimmer. They know we peer in and they wonder why we're not in where they are. But surely if you belonged in, you’d already be. Yes, there is an order to things! If you are the ones outside that's where you should be. If you came in, things would be...uncomfortable.

What none of them know is that the outside is where the light comes from. The ghosts remain at the barrier making sure the spark doesn’t die, all the while those in never know the spark comes from out. They don't know they can move the barrier, the ones inside. If they moved the barrier the light would be so bright it would be hard to comprehend and it would overflow into a harmonious swirl of inside and outside.

But they don't know.

The ones outside fade, we try to help the others but we feel the sting of the barrier and the fade passes unnoticed. Once we see the fade, it's too late. Once they diminish we can send them gently into the nothing and the others make the spark remain. Sometimes during the fade they'll foolishly try to burst through the barrier. The pain is immense. The ones inside, they see it happening but they don't know the barrier causes pain. They see a flutter and then it's gone. They think it must just be what it's like outside. Outside we know it's one final desperate plea, one agonized scream to be with the ones inside, be reunited with the light that is ours.

We are simply blades of grass. No one notices a single blade removed. It's only when all are gone that the ones inside will notice what's missing. Why do we remain? Why do we tend the spark? Is it a duty, an instinct, a curse? It's the only way to be near it. Seeing the spark gives enough false hope that the ones outside remain, just in case one day the ones inside discover they can remove the barrier, remove the pain, rejoin and rejoice with their other halves. Before the barrier we were one, each with our own light to share.

Soon, the ones outside will no longer be seen but they will be locked to the inside light, with no will of their own, the light no longer full, the ones inside in a fury. An unintended trap of no one's making that will bring the end of all things...but they don't know until the end. The barrier will never move, the ones will never reunite, the light will never be full, and harmony cannot be any other way. We all become the ones of the nothing. Perhaps...if we're lucky and hopeful, a new light will come when we're gone but together.

Have a pizza party

 As we all may be familiar the pizza party is often used as a tool to boost morale by those who enjoy our labor without adequate financial compensation. This is a temporary high. In that setting, it's a meal not morale. 

HOWEVER the pizza party has a very important role when it's not being used as a tool of capitalism to mimic joy and fulfillment. Every birthday as a kid required a pizza party, every cool day at school was a pizza party, some of us even earned pizza by reading books back in the day. We should probably bring that back, honestly. My first lunch date with my bestie of 20 years was pizza. I still have a hand-written recipe card from 7th or 8th grade home ec where we learned to make pizza crust. Why is it so relevant? Is it just me? 

My birthday at Chuck E. Cheese

You can still get me to do something by using pizza as a reward. Maybe the 1980s and '90s marketing was THAT good that it's simply ingrained in some of us that pizza=reward, but it's still sort of seen as a food of celebration. It's more festive than other foods. I don't make the rules. 

Yesterday we hosted some dear friends and their young children in our chaotic cat-filled house for an impromptu pizza party. It was proposed just a few short hours before with people who usually have to do a combination of voodoo, prayer, and calculus to find ways to spend time together because of busy schedules and life obligations. But on this auspicious day, we all had pizza together. Jason got to share some of his very cool toys, I got to share a new wine I'd wanted to try, we got to catch up, we got to share our goodwill amongst people worth sharing it with and WOW DO WE NEED MORE OF THAT.

Many of us are guilty of being "too busy", and rightfully so. The world is very demanding of us and we've really forgotten how to get in touch with a friend and just be together without having to make appointments. When I was a kid we'd ride our bike over and see who was home, or we'd call and ask if they could come over, we'd write notes between classes asking if they wanted to hang out at someone's house after school, we'd have parents come pick us up or we'd hop the bus to the mall (where we would get food court pizza. Don't get my started on how good that was). Our time spent together felt infinite. 

When did we decide we didn't do that anymore? No more pizza parties, no more sleepovers, no more fun for the sake of fun. We're adults now, we get to decide....and ~THIS~ is what we've decided!? Yuck. 

I will admit...my standards have changed. When I was a kid and someone came to the door it was VERY EXCITING to see who was there. Was it mail, a friend, a surprise? Who knows. Now? If you come to my door without notice (if you see my face at all) you're likely to see this face... 

From Black Books, one of the greatest shows of all time. 

I don't love that this is my response but I might not be wearing pants so...just cut me some slack. I'm trying to be more prepared for the day to happen to me. It's going moderately ok, I guess? (I've literally changed my daily routine so that I can be more functional in the day. I won't bore you with the details but it's been kinda helpful, though not without imperfections.) I could also talk about reasons why neurodivergent people have less friends so they don't have to plan things but I'll save that for another inspired day. 

My other caveat here is that the only reason I've been able to do some fun chill things lately is that I've had time off from work. Otherwise my body is exhausted. I'm too exhausted to find joy. That's bullshit and I don't want that anymore. I'm still an agent of capitalism so I'm finding ways to adjust. Work in progress. 

The important point of all this is that sometimes you need to do nothing at all together. Don't plan it, don't curate it, don't make a thing of it. Just do it. (Brb I have to send Nike a dollar.) We don't have to fill every moment of every day but WE GET TO CHOOSE OUR MOMENTS. Why do we choose so poorly? Geez. Yes, some of them are chosen for us but the ones we get to choose are the ones we should use wisely. When we were kids we dreamed of all the decisions we'd get to make and we messed up. We've got to find ways to get that back. Make decisions that would make 12-year-old you feel like a friggin badass grown-up. Dump obligations off your plate-you can't do everything, take a night off from worry-it'll still be there, ignore emails-seriously..., clear a seat for a friend and order a pizza*. 

(*Jason doesn't get to eat pizza but he was fed and it did not diminish our joy. If pizza doesn't work for you, do your thing.) 

Harold

It's been challenging to figure out what to say about Grandpa Harold. 

His official obituary can be found here, for anyone interested.  

He was a Danish first-generation American, Marine veteran, lifelong Lutheran, and fixer of machines. I don't know what he was like when he was younger but he was the definition of a grandpa. He'd bounce the grandkids on his knee, give us little treats, fix our bikes, and say silly grandpa stuff we didn't understand. It wasn't until about 10 years ago that I found another person who used the word "larapin" to describe food. (It was Kinky Friedman in his book Texas Etiquette, which I later gave to grandpa.) I'd ask him what it meant and he'd always say it just means larapin, don't you know larapin? Is that larapin? Where HE got it, I have no idea. 

I was always curious about his Danish family, if he remembered the language, what kinds of things he did when he was younger, but he wasn't ever terribly chatty. I took and cherished what I got from any of the Johnson grandparents because they never found things about themselves as interesting as I did. When grandma Doris died and the Johnson headstone was created I found it fascinating that carved into it was "Jesus Elsker Dig", which is "Jesus Loves You" in Danish. This must have been something the Danish Johnson's said and he must have still thought it was important. I don't think he really remembered much Danish but I'm sure he was never taught to read or write it. Others in the family that I've never met have done tons of genealogy work and I have many records, which is great, but I never got very many stories I'd hoped for. I've found more photos of his parents and family recently while digging through boxes of photos. I love them. I never met his parents since they were gone before I got here. 

The thing I thought about soon after he was gone was that he's one of the only men I can think of who has never been upset or cross with me. (As far as I know...I'm sure I got in trouble a time or two as a kid.) He never expected me to be anything I wasn't. He never made me feel bad about anything at all. I didn't feel like I was ever treated any differently than my cousins who got to see him all the time. I'm often never more alone than when I'm with my relatives but this was never the case with the grandparents. 

They always got up much earlier than me and he'd already be out working in his shop by the time I got up and had breakfast. I'd sometimes go out and see what he was working on or I'd see him when I went out to play in the yard or get my bike. He'd head out to coffee midmorning, and sometimes I'd go with him and have a glazed donut and a glass of milk while I swung my feet off the stool. He'd always come in for lunch when the noon whistle blew. He always had Wintergreen gum in the cabinet. When everyone was younger, since I was usually there in the summertime, we'd all go out for a walk or bike ride after dinner. We might have popcorn when it got dark and the night news came on. Grandma always went to bed a little earlier but I'd stay up with grandpa to watch Letterman, then MASH, during which he'd usually fall asleep and snore himself awake sporadically until he decided to go to bed. 

On the weekends or days he wasn't busy we might watch his VHS of Victor Borge or Grumpy Old Men. His favorite part of Grumpy Old Men was when they'd call each other moron and putz. That's made all the more funny by the fact that I don't know if he ever said anything unpleasant to another person. There were certainly people he didn't care for but I never heard him say anything negative about almost anything. He didn't look for it. He sought out the simple pleasant things and the rest didn't seem to interest him. The exception there is sports. He'd comment on their lack of ability if they weren't doing what he wanted. He also hated Kathy Sabine's hair, for some reason. (She's a Colorado news meteorologist.) He said she needed a comb. That was probably the 90s when the Rachel hair was going around and surely it was just too fluffy for his liking. But truly...his dislike of Kathy's hair is the worst thing I ever heard him say. 

He enjoyed a simple bologna sandwich, just like me. He enjoyed black licorice and jellybeans, just like me. He'd happily try just about any kind of cookie, cake, ice cream, candy, mustard, pickles that were presented to him, just like me. It's an eternal argument about these things, whether or not we both had it in us genetically or if I learned it from him, or both. He enjoyed Spam, we'd eat pancakes for dinner, and he always said the pre-supper prayer if he was home. Sometimes a sale would keep him away later than usual and it would be just me and grandma for dinner. Meals at the Johnson house were never anything fancy but for whatever reason always an essential process in my day. They operated on clockwork most of the time. I'd fuss at grandma for saying dinner instead of lunch and supper instead of dinner. Sitting at the little built-in table in their vintage, full-to-the-brim kitchen, is at the core of my being. I will probably never do so again but it'll never leave me. I'd sometimes help with dishes but if I didn't they'd go into action automatically. Grandma would wash and grandpa would dry and put away. 

It's hard to lose the people who have been such a part of your recipe of existence. It's different hard to lose the places familiar to you, that have not changed in your entire life. Grandma and grandpa's house has changed a bit over the years, new knickknacks here and there, new family and friend photos every year, but so much of it is exactly the same as it ever was. I dream entirely unrelated events in their house on a regular basis because it's a mothership and my brain just defaults to that physical place. It was also common for the other grandparent's house as I never knew them anywhere else. 

I am without any mothership but I retain many of the pieces that made it. 

I am relieved he no longer will have pain and struggles, though he was very hearty and active until the very end of his time. I hope whatever comes next means he's reunited with all his loved ones because after 93 years he outlived just about everyone in his family or that he knew as a younger man. This is a frail attempt to illustrate him but he was a kind man who enjoyed the simple things in life. As Pastor Jeff said at his services, "We need more people like Harold Johnson." This is one of few absolute truths. 

2024 books

 I made an intention to read more in 2024. Usually, though, my intentions are temporary. It wasn't until I went back and looked at my Hoopla/Libby apps that I realized how many I got through. They were mostly audiobooks (reading with my eyeballs makes me fall asleep, audiobooks I can stay awake for longer), and I know I read other physical books but I'm not sure I remember them. So, mostly for me to be reminded later or for anyone that cares, here's a list: 

All 7 Harry Potter books. I do not approve of JK, but Harry is a comfort item that I needed and it was lovely. When you go back to HP, after all this time, you can REALLY pinpoint who JK hates. It's fascinating. I honestly don't know if she knows how much of her inner work-not-being-done is in these books but that's her issue to fix. 

I also read all the supplemental things. Tales of Beetle the Bard, Quidditch Through the Ages, and Fantastic Beasts. 

The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgsen Burnett. It was a favorite growing up and I thought it would be a good "falling asleep to" book because I'd read it so many times. HOWEVER, the flaw in my plan was that I hadn't read it in so long that I entirely forgot much of the book. I did imagine Colin Firth while reading it, which was fun. (He's in one of the movies.) 

The Ballad of Black Tom by Victor LaValle. This is a great little mystical book with primarily Black characters, which I was seeking because most fantasy/magical books are based on white experiences. There are many new ones out there though! Efforts are being made so make efforts to find them. 

Never Lie by Freida McFadden. This was...kinda fun. It's very basic and full of gendered ick but the mystery factor was entertaining enough to get through it. 

Legends and Lattes by Travis Baldree. Fantasy creature coffee romance. Adorbs. 

C.B. Strike books 1-5, by Robert Galbraith. (RG is JK, so I didn't want to enjoy them but I really like the stupid detective stories and the reader is really nice so they also became a comfort item. Also filled with traditional gender BS.) 1. The Cuckoo's Calling, 2. The Silkworm, 3. Career of Evil, 4. Lethal White, 5. Troubled Blood. Same commentary on JK. She's SO. WEIRD. About other people's bodies. 

Voyage of the Damned by Frances White. This one was silly and dramatic and odd. Magical creatures and their messed up caste system and murder and stuff. It was pretty funny I thought and they use inventive magical curse words. 

Tipping the Velvet by Sarah Waters. 1800's English lesbians and drag. Looong and so much drama. Obviously. 

The Lightning Thief by Rick Riordan. We watched the show earlier this year and it seemed to stick very close to the book. I saw the movie ages ago but never really got into Percy & Friends. The book was fun but since it was so close to the show there wasn't much to ponder so I might keep going with the series. 

A crap ton of Batman stuff. There's an audiobook version of the original movie, which is silly but fun. There's an audiobook called Batman: The Blind Cut and one called The Lazarus Syndrome. I've recently read a boat load of comics and that will continue. I'm currently working on one called Damned and I'm excited about it. It's DC Black Label, which means it's adult content. Constantine is in it, which is all I need to know. 

The Book of Doors by Gareth Brown. LOVED this one. It's about a magic book that can lead you through any door. (Very similar to Locke & Key--I've watched the show but it's also a comic. The show was great.) 

A good chunk of TJ Klune's everything. Started with The House in the Cerulean Sea. Read the book, listened to it twice. It is just as the review says, "like being wrapped in a big gay blanket." Read and listened to In the Lives of Puppets, which I really love. A-sexual romance but also puppets and robots and distopian stuff. Listened to Under the Whispering Door--cutesy about the afterlife, and The Bones Beneath My Skin--odd, gay romancey, kinda dark. 

As much as I LOVED The House in the Cerulean Sea, I think I might have actually enjoyed The Extraordinaries series the most. (Flash Fire and Heat Wave are #2 and 3.) Collectively, at least. It is 3 books versus one but the second Cerulean Sea one just came out. I didn't like The Extraordinaries right off the bat because it starts with fan fiction but it is so funny and the guy that reads it deserves an award for the array of voices. It's very gay, very cute, but has all the elements for a good superhero story. I've never enjoyed reading anything (like, at all) romantic until I read TJ Klune. He just makes it wonderful. 

I just finished the other day Carry On by Rainbow Rowell. If you enjoy Harry Potter but would like to not partake in that particular franchise any longer, or just want something new but similar, this is what you're looking for. It's essentially gay Harry Potter with characters swapped around. It's cute and fun and there's magic and drama and stuff. I just started the second one called Wayward Son (and not even because of the titles). It takes itself a little less serious than HP. I'm not sure why but it just does. 

I started many that I didn't finish because I no longer require myself to be bored for no reason. But it's possible I would have finished them if I was reading a physical copy. I'm not sure. I included some here in the list that weren't too bad but just didn't outrank whatever was waiting. 

American Magic- government drama with magic, pretty fun but got slow and I moved on. 
Stoneheart- dragon stuff. 
The Myths of Meritocracy by Malcolm Gladwell- excellent topic but non-fiction so I drift away. What I got through was great and I should finish it. 
Assistant to the Villain- village lass starts working for the known villain. Cute, got bored. 
What Grows in the Dark and What Lies in the Woods- kinda mysterious but literally don't remember which was which. 
Accidental Demons by Clare Edge. It's possible I finished this one and that I just don't remember how it ended. It was quite amusing. It's about a diabetic blood witch who keeps accidentally summoning demons because she has to draw her own blood every day. If I was a diabetic kid, I think I would have really enjoyed this. 

So, I guess I made a lot more progress than I thought I did! I'm quite happy about that. I should start keeping a list but I just checked by apps for these because I would have forgotten half of the titles. 

I read about half of Furiously Happy by Jenny Lawson. The beginning was like reading my own thoughts but the more she got into the details of her mental illness(es) it got a little too trauma-porn for me. She's super funny, if you can get through the other stuff. 

If you want any thoughts related to Batman comics, let me know! I might write something just Batman-centric later. We'll see. Anyway, I changed the blog title and thought I'd write something up as we all start reflecting on this *%&#*@ year. Hope to be back soon! 

Don't finish strong or start 2025 strong. Finish cozy and start slow. Show it we've learned our lessons.

2023: A Year for Love?

Something that was very present for me this year was the realization and understanding that I've had FAR more invisible barriers for my entire life than I ever considered possible. What I'm still working on is giving myself some god damn grace for it, as I would for anyone else. 

Along with my interactions with the world, learning more about myself, coming to understand bigger things better, I've made the discovery that LOVE is an intentional act. I'm talking about romantic, platonic, shallow, rooted, short-lived, eternal, all of it. I believe there are so many kinds of love that we collectively dismiss because it's not what Valentine's Day commercials show. 

If you're not actively loving, you're not quite there yet. And that's ok. I didn't realize it until I did. You can love in whatever way you want, but if you're giving it with no reservations, then I applaud you. And I don't mean, like, the "good vibes" or "thoughts and prayers" kind of love. That's care and kindness, which is lovely, but there's something more to it that I can't quite put into words. Maybe some day I'll be able to. The actions are the same, really, but there is something internal that needs to click for it to be genuine. I suppose it's simply the intention. If it's a habit then is it still intentional? I dunno. Maybe for some. Maybe over time it's the same? 

The world needs more kindness, which has to be rooted in love. Where else would it come from? Capitalism? No. That's cruel, inherently, by design. Individualism? That's what makes us all amazing, but love is collective. If we're not creating a system in which people are able to feel loved, then we're failing. Not only should we be able to survive, we should be able to thrive around barriers. We all know this, but we can't enact it without the puppeteers working on a large scale. Any of us can do one thing at a time, though, right?  

Don't get me wrong, not everyone earns or deserves your active love. But everyone deserves love. Everyone. The worst festering human turd on the planet deserves love. They're only a walking turd because they don't have love in the first place. That doesn't mean it has to come from you. Or me. Or anyone we know. The person to love that turd might not even know they exist, but maybe some day they will fall upon something resembling what they should have had before their turd status fully bloomed. Do not sacrifice yourself for love. Love and trust are the not the same. It's given freely, accepted by those who know it's value, and that's the end of it. Maybe it encourages others to decide to be active in love as well, but that choice is upon them. 

All the love in the world can't fix something that's broken, but it can perhaps give space for the tools that can fix things to find their way to the right places. Maybe love can smooth a road for someone. Maybe love can soften a hard landing. Maybe love can offer a realization. The fun and/or horrific part is that we have no idea how it'll go until it's already out there. We can't hold on to the outcome. It's up to us to give it, like releasing a balloon (please never release balloons, it kills animals) and never knowing where it'll land. 

So, what am I saying? A bunch of stuff that's very complex whittled down to a few words minutes away from a new year. There are a million different kinds of love and you choose which ones are the most important for you. Make it an action, especially if it involves living things, and release the need for reciprocity. That's what makes it joyful. I'm not saying you should give effort to those who dismiss or devalue you. Nope. That's giving them energy, that's different. Love can use energy but it's like a spout in Wonka's factory--a million dials for all manner of things. Some you always leave on, some you never use, some you're still not sure what to do with. Maybe you even need more, maybe you need to retire some. 

All I know for sure is that sometimes I feel like a real life Care Bear and if I can't burst into a rainbow, I don't even know what. It applies to people I love and care for regularly, it applies to people who have been awful to me, it applies to people living in the worse kind of fear imaginable, it applies to people living in the luxury only unethical wealth can provide, it applies to baby kitties on the internet. (It doesn't even mean I always LIKE them.) I want to shoot it out of my glowing tummy in all directions and hope beyond hope that it'll get where I want it to. It often won't. That's ok. I know it's out there. It's not wasted, I have more. You can have some. 

I wish I had better words to explain how I'm developing these thoughts but it's a work in progress, and I'm hoping to learn more so that I can speak on it with less chaos. Chaos Bear. 

I didn't watch it this holiday season but...to quote a movie that gets at some of what I'm saying; yes, even with all it's now problematic moments: 

'Love, actually, is all around." 

I hope you find all you need in 2024. 

Musical Flavor #489, 488, 487, & 486. This one's a rough set. Blah.

 #489: Phil Spector and Various Artists, 'Back to Mono (1958-1969)'

I didn't opt to listen to this one again, even though it had been a while since I listened. It has good songs--great songs, actually. I just wasn't in a Phil Spector mood. (If you're confused, go look it up.)

 

#488: The Stooges, 'The Stooges'

It's alright. Not really my thing, but it was decent enough working music. 

#487: Black Flag, 'Damaged'

I get it, I really do. It's just not my thing. I couldn't finish it. It is NOT good working music unless I was working pulling weeds or something. I'm glad I gave it a try. It has it's place. 

#486: John Mayer, 'Continuum'

Ok. Almost half of this is "hmm...this is nice." The other more-than-half is "OMG THIS IS SO BOORRRIIIINNNNGG." So, whatever you want to do with that. I do not care for this man's voice about 95% of the time. It's like an over cooked noodle. His talent as a musician is fine but, listening to it as something other than background music is nearly enough to put me to sleep. WAKE UP, JOHN. 

Musical Flavor #492, 491, & 490. So I don't lose my place!

 #492: Bonnie Raitt, In the Nick of Time. 

This one deserves it's own post. It's awesome. I think Too Soon to Tell is my favorite song. 

She's underrated outside of her genre, for sure. Of all the albums I've listened to so far, this is the one that got set to repeat the most. 

#491: Harry Styles, Fine Line

I'll fully admit I didn't previously give Harry any time. He's quite nice. The majority of his songs I've heard kinda sound the same but at least it's a same that it's too bad. I kinda get it now. 

Watermelon Sugar is a great summer song. I don't care. 

#490: Linda Ronstadt, Heart Like a Wheel

The standards on here are great, but the rest doesn't really do it for me. You're No Good, obviously, is a classic. No question. I'm striking out on the 70s in general--the artists aren't to blame, it's me. 

FREE HUGS

Do you know what touch deprivation is? It's also called touch starvation, which I think is weird and overly dramatic but it's often used. 

Touch deprivation was a topic when we were more in the midst of isolation, but it's always around. There are many people who don't care for much physical touch out and about in the world and actively avoid it, but there are also people who just have more solitary lives for any number of reasons. It's a human thing. (I imagine it's probably an animal thing, in general, but my point is that we're all naturally effected.)  

When we were most distanced we missed out on hugging loved ones, that one is obvious, but there are also other things like a pat on the shoulder, handshakes, high fives, whatever. I'd imagine teachers who work with young children would have noticed it somewhat, since they're prone to more pats and pokes and whatnot. 

Whether it's on purpose or for safety sake, touch deprivation can have negative effects on anyone. I may be the most socially touchy person within hundreds of miles--we're not always super into affectionate things here in the midwest. When we had to be isolated it was definitely noticeable, but it's still a factor. 

I'm not a scientist but here is my hypothesis and assumptions. Because I was severely touch deprived for my first many weeks of life, I believe I'm more sensitive to it. I didn't realize it when I was younger, but I don't know if that's because I didn't think of it or know of it, or if it has changed as I've gotten older. I also had more family contact as a kid. I saw grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins more. I obviously lived with a parent, I was around more young people, and I think you typically get more kinds of affection and physical touch just playing as a child than as an adult. 

I think with my predisposition to it, plus pandemic, it's extremely noticeable now. I don't know if it will decrease as we get more "back to normal" or if I'm just stuck with it now. Who knows. 

The effects of touch deprivation are increased stress, anxiety, depression, higher blood pressure and heart rate, muscle tension, and a less robust immune system...among others. I kinda already have all that floating around but pandemic times did not help. I'm 100% certain it's part of why my blood pressure has increased, as well as general anxiety. Like, there's been a LOT of other contributing factors for increased stress and there was a confluence of wackadoo things all around the same time but this is one of them. I think also I have some lingering Covid things that are just pissing me off and it's all a bundle of annoyance. 

It's quite an unpleasant and maybe indescribable sensation. I've read many things about it describing the effects it has, but never what it FEELS like. I want to say my skin hurts? Though I can't say it's truly painful... It's almost like constant feeling the texture of your skin is changing, like your changing into something else...some other substance that's not human skin. Ya know?? Wut? 

Part of why I have been pondering it more lately is because on my spring break trip I got soooo many extra hugs. My body was so grateful to be out of that desert and into the hug oasis. I got bear hugs, tall hugs, mom hugs, kids hugs, skinny hugs, fluffy hugs, all the hugs. I get hugs at home too, of course, but not to that level. I don't think my cats count since it's just rage hugs with them. So angry but so fluffy and cute. Pets do help, if they're occasionally snuggly. 

Only mildly related to this is that I sure miss my grandma's hugs. (Grandma Jessie. The Johnson's aren't robust huggers, myself excluded.) Do people have signature hugs? I think so. It's hard to find another like one you're so familiar with. You have to be approximately the same size and shape, with the same level of huggyness. Then there's the smell of the person, the level of joy for the hug, what else? That's a whole different tangent. 

So, what's my point? I dunno. It was just in my brain and I needed to make room because it's too full in there. My bonus point is- hug people when you can. Hold hands. Sit close. Sniff your friends. Whatever. It's for their health. 

Supplemental Log: (Because I got impatient and forgot a thing, and I also had a shower realization.)

1) Men are more prone to touch "starvation" than women. I assume that's because they are typically less affectionate but also women are typically doing more of the family caregiving, which would result in more physical contact. On the flip side, I figure this is also what contributes to women being more prone to being touched out. No mas. Leave mama alone. Ask them, they'll tell you. 

Moral of that: Toxic masculinity is killing you. Do better fathers, for your children.

Shower realization: The last time I had a very specific bout of this was when I moved away from Hays. I left all of my friends and two little bity boys who utilized Taffy like a piece of playground equipment. 

A Day in the Life of an Honorable Admin

Now that I've made it to the evening I kinda forgot today was all one day. 

First, I got up and ready at a normal adult time so that I could have a nice thank you breakfast with the Provost for our work on the recent student recognition programs. (I will get up and adult for breakfast. Now you know the secret.) Kevin and a couple other faculty folk were there and we had a really nice, real-talk conversation about student programs, enrollment, Kansas issues, and all kinds of things. Plus, we got to poke fun at Kevin for his big professor words. This is pretty common. It's out of love. It's rare, however, to get so much nearly one-on-one time with the Provost, so that was a treat. She's ultra busy and overloaded but she really cares about what is going on. 

Then we had a couple student visits that went a bit longer than admissions probably would have liked. Sorrynotsorry. 

Then we hosted a group of Foundation board members and staff in Tiger Village, where my nuggets live. For those who don't know, Foundation = People Who Direct the Donor Money. So, it's important. This was our first opportunity since I've been here to talk to them directly about why the HC is awesome and what we'd like to see in our future. (Scholarship funds and more positions/salary, pleeeeeease.) We had 5 amazing students attend to give their thoughts. They're so good at speaking about their experience and what they want for themselves and others, they're so excited and passionate about what they're doing and what we're doing, they're grateful and generously complimentary of our support, and they're really proud to be part of our campus. It's a joy to hear that what we're doing makes such a difference for them. They are why we're here though. They make this place what it is. 

The fact that our brilliant students are willing and able to articulate the value of our school and our program, and us as faculty and staff, will do more than they know to help their fellow Tigers down the road. Their words were heard. 

Kevin and I were given a lot of (well earned) credit for the current overwhelming* successes, by our Vice President of Student Affairs, Joey. He made it known to everyone there that we're doing the work that needs doing. He asked how many recognition programs we attended (I think it's all but one), because he knows we were at all of them. He said our efforts are recognized. We often have our doubts in the often icky climate that is higher ed, so it can be a little bit exceptional to get straight up recognition. One of Joey's laments, which I've heard a couple times since I've also taken a class with him, is that the further he advanced in his career the less student contact he has. He spent some time afterward talking to our students about the value they can bring in speaking to prospective students.

On the third or fourth time he said "one more thing, then I'm leaving..." he said "today filled my heart with joy" to hear from such committed students. The man LOVES his Tigers, and we love him for it. He genuinely is the cheerleader for everything FHSU. I'm so glad that he was able to experience what we get to see all the time. 

After all of that, I went to a little social function with some of my HESA classmates. I got to meet some people I'd only seen in a signature line, so that was kind of nice. 

Now I'm exhausted but I wanted to write this out because it was a really rewarding day, overall, in the midst of an otherwise really bleak week. I didn't get a lot done, but at the same time it was more productive than a day where my inbox looks nice. You need some of both. 

*I mean literally overwhelming. Our incoming class for fall 2022 is....approximately GINORMOUS. I'm legitimately unsure how we're going to work out some of the usual things we do because there's still only two of us. We have to do the same job we've done with an average of 17 freshman students with over 40 freshman students, plus non-freshmen. Plus, you know, I'll be in two graduate classes at the same time. I think I'm even going to forego a reminder email for our application deadline. They've met the challenge. We have more than we can handle, but we're going to make it work. FHSU is a very "we'll make it work" sort of place. They need to get it together and pay people but...that's a different post. I am rich in nice feelings, if not in pay. 

Fat women deserve larger font.

 I shared this on Facebook. The place where nobody cares five minutes later. So I'm adding it here too. 

Instead of a highly paid plus model to make the point, maybe an underpaid doer-of-everything is more relevant. 

Anyway. 

Since I'm in a PSA mood today, I'll go ahead and give you a few more. This is a two for one. 

1) Fat women are awesome. Not just when we're the right kind of fat, not just when we have big titties--which aren't there for you unless gifted to your face, not just when we have fat girl personality, not just anything. We just ARE. If you don't care for fat women, that's a you problem, not an us problem. If you're smaller, then you're just smaller. You're not better, you're not stronger, you're not smarter, you're not more worthy, and you're not healthier. If you care that you're smaller...well then you're definitely sMalLEr. We're not all sad that we're fat and you aren't. If you're sad about you, I'm sorry. Don't be. It's ok if we intimidate you, we're used to it.  

2) This also applies to men because equality, equity, and feminism is also 👏 here 👏 for 👏 men. 2a) and any fucking level of any fucking gender or sexuality that exists because you're valid and it doesn't matter what norms you have to break to be you. BREAK THEM ALL.

I'm gonna need ya'll to be aggressively hot. You will always and forever be not good enough for someone, somehow. 

So be extra anyway, just because you can.  

Musical Flavor #493, Marvin Gaye, 'Here, My Dear' (1978)

  #493- Greatest Albums of All Time

Everyone knows Marvin Gaye songs. "I Heard it Through the Grapevine" was a favorite as a kid--thanks California Raisins! "What's Going On" is still too relevant and, of course, "Let's Get It On" & "Sexual Healing" will live forever. But I don't know a LOT of Marvin Gaye songs and I didn't know much about him as a person. 

This particular album is interesting here on the 500 because it didn't do well. After his marriage failed he wrote this hoping that it would fund his alimony. He owed millions in taxes at the time and his addiction to cocaine was...not going well.  

Interesting side note: his marriage may have failed, in part, due to the fact that he had a child with his wife's very underage niece. #Problematic! The girl was also the niece of Motown founder Barry Gordy. Marvin's wife, who was unable to get pregnant, adopted the child and he was named Marvin III.

I also did not know that Marvin was killed by his own father (a minister), who had abused Marvin for his whole life. His father was given a reduced charge due to the discovery of a brain tumor. Dr. Dre is said to be working on a biopic that will come out in 2023. It'll be quite a story. 

The best (non-tragic) thing I learned in doing some research was that he was greatly influenced by Frank Sinatra. 

What a brutal life. Yet, a voice so sweet. 

Would I listen again? Meh...this album is not music I enjoy actively listening to. It was great background music for reading about his life but I wouldn't be likely to put it on for fun. 

I don't dig it so much, but it's been fascinating. I suspect I'd enjoy the words in their poetic form more so than as songs. He was going THROUGH some things. 

I did dig most of the 8 minutes of "A Funky Space Reincarnation", that one I'd listen to on purpose. 

Musical Flavor #494, The Ronettes, 'Presenting the Fabulous Ronettes' (1964)

 #494- Greatest Albums of All Time

This is the definition of oldies pop. I don't know what makes it stand out against the maaaany other similar albums and groups of the time, but it gets the job done if you're in the mood for a milkshake at the bar wearing your pointy bra. You'll recognize many of the songs unless you're simply too young or have voluntarily lived under a rock. 

Chapel of Love is simply iconic.

{I have thoughts about how Ronnie's multiracial family influenced her musical talents, while her melatonin was subdued enough to soothe white listeners and how a lot of "oldies" were coopted Black music made palatable for white people. But that's like a whole different blog.}

Veronica, aka "Ronnie", just died a couple weeks ago. If it wasn't due to her relationship with her producer, Phil Specter (who regularly threatened to kill her, squashed her career, and once "surprised" her with twin children for Christmas...wtf) she would have probably done a lot more really amazing things. But she did a lot with what she had and she influenced generations. 

Would I listen again? Of course. 

I dig it. 

Rest in peace and power, Ronnie. 

Musical Flavor #495, Boyz II Men, 'II' (1991)

 #495- Greatest Albums of All Time

Boyz II Men, 'II' (1991)

Oooooh yeah...this one takes me back. The majority of these so far have been things I've never even heard of, this though...this I've listened to maaaany times. This was one of the first CDs I ever owned. I think I got it for my birthday in high school when I got a badass stereo. (I also got Madonna's Bedtime Stories, that year, and I bought myself my first CD--Michael Jackson's HIStory: Past, Present and Future, Book I .)

"Yesterday" was by FAR my favorite song on the album. I listened to it on repeat. My mom might even remember this album for that reason. It's a good song already, but their version was just amazing. 

It's a nice variety and mix of pop and R&B and it's just a nice time. 

Would I listen again? I haven't listened to this since maybe high school but it was nice to revisit. I don't imagine I'll seek it out often, but I definitely enjoy the throwback. 

I dig it, I have for a long time. 

Musical Flavor #496, Shakira, 'Dónde Están los Ladrones' (1998)

 #496- Greatest Albums of All Time

Shakira, 'Dónde Están los Ladrones' (1998) 

I guess now is the time to admit that I'm really not much of a Shakira fan, but this is likely because I've heard all of one song about 5 million times. (And I don't even dislike that song, necessarily.) 

 This album is solid though. I have no complaints. It's upbeat and fun and I have no idea what the lyrics are. The standout song for me is the last one, "Ojos Asi", because it seems to have the most fusion of different styles. The Lebanese influence definitely comes out in this one and I like it. 

I imagine I'd like it better if I understood it. Maybe? The music is still fun though. Definitely dance-worthy. 

Would I listen again? I wouldn't reject it...and I've already listened to that final song multiple times, so I guess so! 

I dig it.  

Musical Flavor #497, Various Artists, 'The Indestructible Beat of Soweto' (1985)

 #497- Greatest Albums of All Time

Various Artists, 'The Indestructible Beat of Soweto' (1985)

 

This is a great time. It features Ladysmith Black Mambazo and other artists from South Africa. I listened to it many times over in my office because it's worth it. (If you listen to YouTube Music it will also play similar music, but tends to return to replay the album. This is how I learned that Dolly Parton and Ladysmith Black Mambazo, covered Knockin' On Heavens Door! I had no idea.)

If you want something upbeat this is what you need. It's full of joy. 

Would I listen again? Definitely! 

I dig it. 

Musical Flavor #498, Su*c*de, 'Su*c*de' (1977)

 #498- Greatest Albums of All Time

Su*c*de, 'Su*c*de' (1977)  (The algorithms seem to not like the word so I've edited for posting.)

Another band I've never heard of and definitely a genre I don't listen to much. This band is considered punk, new wave, electronic, synth-pop, and more. It's not screamy like one might think if you're not a punk fan. It's quite the opposite, for the most part. It's mostly mellow and has a bit of a random oldies pop feel to it. None of this really fits with the title so don't let that scare you away.

I get Jim Morrison meets Bowie meets Eraserhead vibes. (If THAT scares you away then...maybe for the best.) It has a steady background vibration throughout making it feel like one long-ass song. I have no idea what they're talking about so I might have to defer to my honey for that since he's the one that listens to the lyrics. 

The whole album is only about 40-someting minutes so check it out if you're not sure if you'd like it. It's dark but delightful. It's charming and weird. (It lists "Bela Lugosi's Dead" as similar music--which some may remember was played at our wedding.)

It reminds me of True Romance, which is awesome. 

Does this album make me wish I was on drugs and wearing scarves? Yes. 

Would I listen again? I already have. It's weirdly rhythmic and meditative...like I accidentally joined a cult. 

I dig it. 

Musical Flavor #499, Rufus, featuring Chaka Khan, 'Ask Rufus' (1977)

 #499: Greatest Albums of All Time

Rufus, featuring Chaka Khan, 'Ask Rufus' (1977)

This is definitely a genre of music I don't listen to very often. It's a mood. One I guess I'm just never quite ready for. I enjoy it, for sure, I just don't seek it out. I have the same relationship with soup and raspberry flavored things. 

What I know of Chaka Khan is, of course, "I'm Every Woman" & "Tell Me Something Good." This is exactly the kind of thing that makes me enjoy this project I've assigned myself. She deserves more space in my head than 2 songs. 

Does this album make me want to roller skate and fluff up my hair? Is it smooooooth like a dang milk shake? 

Yep! Egyptian Song is a treat awaiting you at the end.

Would I listen again? Yes. I may not think to go listen to it often but I wouldn't kick it off a playlist.

I dig it, it's groovy.