Lessons Learned From My Media Break

During Thanksgiving week, I took seven days off from social media, television, and podcasts. I’ve unplugged from media before with fruitful results. This round was prompted by Jocelyn K. Glei’s course RESET. Glei suggests taking a break from “inputs that play a huge role in the life of your mind” in order to “open up space for new ideas to flow.”

I’ve been writing a book, so I was eager to see if dramatically reducing external inputs could spark creativity and promote productivity. Full confession: I cheated more than once. However, it was still an illuminating experiment. Three observations stood out:

Silence Equals Discomfort

While making lunch, cleaning, or driving, I would normally listen to podcasts or my own music playlists. Once I eliminated these, I did not like the way I filled up the silence by singing the same lines from the same handful of songs over and over. My chattering mind is accustomed to filling in the blank spots. So, I tried listening to classical music to ease the transition. By the end of the week, I was better able to tolerate short quiet stretches, and I started generating ideas in these open windows.

I’ve come to think of this as giving my brain “me” time. The more silence I give myself, the better my mind gets at focusing my scattered mental energy. Like building muscles, developing a deep comfort with quiet time will take dedication and repetition.

Cable News Makes Me Anxious

One night I was meditating upstairs while my husband was watching TV downstairs. I could sense immediately when he switched to cable news by how angry the voices sounded. I know there’s a lot to be mad about in our world, but this shift in perspective helped me realize how unhealthy it is to pump so much tension into my brain every day.

With more time at home this year, my cable news routine had devolved to include watching my favorite news show on the iPad while preparing dinner, and then my husband and I might watch more news in the living room and again in the bedroom before going to sleep. Thanks to my media break, we rarely tune into cable news now, and I feel much calmer. We do listen to a brief news podcast while eating breakfast—just 15 minutes or less compared to the two hours I had been consuming daily.

Media is Like Pecan Pie

We bought a store-made pecan pie for Thanksgiving this year and salted caramel ice cream to go with it. It was delicious, yet I would never think to eat such a decadent desert regularly, let alone multiple times a day. Perhaps I should treat TV, podcasts, and social media more like pie and less like a staple in my diet.

Balance is everything. When I spend less time on screens, I read books, meditate, and exercise more. And I’ve come to the conclusion that social media works best for me as a tool rather than an endless conversation—I have to know why I’m on there.

But you know what? After cheating several nights in a row, I came to accept that my husband and I enjoy watching TV together in the evenings. And that’s ok. It’s also ok for me to skip a night now and then to write or do yoga.

Media and technology add value to our lives, if used mindfully. I’ve learned that occasional breaks shine light on my habits and alert me to how these inputs might be crowding out other positive experiences.

The Non-Magic of Making and Breaking Habits

Drinking coffee was not a regular thing for me before 2020. Caffeine has an intense effect on my nervous system, so for decades I rarely consumed coffee.

With the pandemic lockdowns, I suddenly had more time each morning, and the soothing ritual of grinding, brewing, and sipping coffee appealed to me. So, I found a local business that roasts flavorful half-caf and decaf blends and started ordering their beans.

This custom became part of my day pretty quickly. Before I knew it, I was already looking forward to my morning cup of joe in the early evening.

My new coffee habit emerged organically, but those that don’t can be challenging to establish.

A couple months ago I decided to initiate a pre-bedtime routine of using the Waterpik, brushing my teeth, and then rinsing with mouthwash. At first, I wondered when this practice would ever become automatic. I resented the extra time and effort it took when all I wanted to do was slide under the covers.

Even now, as the habit is finally taking root, some nights I negotiate with myself: What if I skipped tonight and went to bed with fuzzy teeth? Would just one time hurt?

Once a habit has solidified, it can be tough to quit. Three and a half years ago, I decided to remove alcohol from my life. I hadn’t intended to build a drinking habit, but the ongoing repetition in my late teens and early 20s ensured that it took hold. For decades, I drank several times a week. And then I tried to defy all that training.

At first, there were so many triggers that made me want to drink again. Birthdays and anniversaries, dinners at nice restaurants, Friday evenings after a long week—all of these markers were intimately linked with alcohol. I had to power through each one to break the habit.

This Thanksgiving weekend, I was working on a craft project and out of nowhere came the thought that I should have a drink after I finished.

For most of my adult life, long holiday weekends were for drinking—this pattern included drinking earlier in the day than usual and consuming alcohol for three or four consecutive days (something I didn’t usually do). For me, this merriment typically started off fun but did not end well. Yet here was an echo, surfacing after nearly four sober years, telling me a drink was in order. Talk about power!

For many years, I taught my brain that multiple glasses of wine paired well with talking on the phone with friends, that beer went hand-in-hand with playing darts, that alcohol was part of brunch and eating oysters and dancing at weddings and sitting by the fire.

My mind got the message that numerous activities were not reward enough without a drink before, during, or after. Luckily, this not-so-magical trick is a clue to how we can sever old habits and nurture new ones.

We must look for the associations. They are the support posts that we put down along the way. If we want to disassemble an entrenched habit, we must detach it from these props. We can do this by repeating the action, like eating brunch, without the habit. Remember, this is how we got into said mess, by repeating the activity with the habit.

Our desired new habits will need their own support posts—even something as simple as a time of day, like my bedtime teeth cleaning ritual.

Not all habits will be as immediately pleasant as drinking coffee. But if we tether them to something sturdy, we will persevere.

Moving at the Speed of YOU

The internet is overflowing with motivational quotes. I often take screenshots on my phone of messages that speak to me. As I was transferring a batch of these images to my laptop recently, this one came up: “Be the Kind of Woman That Makes Other Women Want to Up Their Game.”

(Note: A Google search revealed that this quote has been shared countless times in numerous designs and with a variety of attributions. I tried to identify the original author, with no luck as of yet.)

I can see why many women would find these words inspiring. But I saved the quote because it provoked complicated feelings that I wanted to explore later.

We humans frequently compare ourselves to each other, and we like to compete to determine who’s the best at pretty much everything. Social media platforms take advantage of this inclination. They pit us against each other in a battle of likes and follows and retweets.

As someone who grew up feeling like I was “less than” my peers, and who still struggles with my inner critic, social media is like thumbing through a catalog of successful people—every one of them apparently working harder than me to get ahead.

The self-interrogation starts: Did I do enough today? Did I do the right things? Did I do them well? Am I smart? Interesting? Highly competent? Better than average? More than mediocre?

For decades I wished that I were more self-motived, ambitious, driven. But when I left my last full-time job a couple years ago, I did so with the knowledge that I no longer wanted to climb the corporate ladder. I had ascended as high as I cared to on my office’s organizational chart, and I was surprisingly ok with the fact that I would never hold a VP or executive director title.

Ok, it stings a bit, but I’m getting used to it.  

In our culture, we often look down on those we think aren’t living up to their potential or to society’s expectations. I’ve been guilty of this myself—guilty of thinking people are being lazy and taking advantage of others.

Now I’m unemployed and looking at this from a new perspective…

We already know that people are different in all kinds of wonderful ways. Maybe we are also different in our ability to grind away.

Three questions come to mind:

1) What if there is a wide spectrum of how much physical and mental energy humans are capable of exerting on a regular basis over an extended period of time?

2) What if our society does a poor job of providing people with the opportunity to identify the kind of work that suits them best?

3) What if getting frustrated that not everyone is busting their butt equally is a pointless and unhelpful endeavor?

Maybe some us were meant for a slower life.

Maybe some of us get stressed out easier than others.

Maybe it’s ok if we don’t all work at the same speed and intensity.

Maybe some of us take longer to accelerate in life, while others decelerate sooner.  

Maybe some of us need longer sabbaticals in between periods of steady employment.

Maybe I don’t want to push myself in order to make another woman feel like she needs to do more.

Maybe, just maybe, our cultural standards don’t work well for everyone, and we need to challenge ourselves to think about how we can expand our definition of work and achievement and contribution to family and society.

More on this to come!

Your Cluttered House

In my last blog post I compared a worn-out couch sitting in your living room to a bad habit taking up space in your life. Both the couch and the habit need to go, but you must make a plan for what to put in the spots that they occupy. Now I would like to propose a follow-up analogy—a cluttered house.

Let’s say you inherit a cabin in the woods from a distant relative. You didn’t even know someone in your family had a getaway house! You head out to the cabin, and you discover that the place is a mess. Apparently this relative was a bit of a hoarder.

Towering piles of books, newspapers, and magazines are everywhere. The kitchen is littered with empty jars, broken toasters, and abandoned cereal boxes. The bathroom is crowded with old towels, shampoo bottles, and loads of extra toilet paper. The bedroom is bursting with creepy dolls and other thrift store purchases.

Where do you start? Maybe you should just burn it all down you think, only half joking. You were so excited about spending long weekends and summer vacations at your very own cabin, so you reluctantly get cleaning.

You start with the biggest fire hazard—those ancient newspapers and magazines in the living room. It takes a lot of hard work, but you feel great once you’ve removed all that paper from the house. Then, you start to see an abundance of plastic grocery bags stuffed with trash that had been tucked in between the piles.

With the bags tossed, you move on to the other rooms. Room after room is the same: As you sweep away the junk that stands out the most, you uncover more stuff. There always seems to be more stuff.

This work takes time. You return to the cabin every weekend. Slowly, the floorboards, the bathroom tile, and the kitchen counters become visible. You can see the bones of the house. Now you must identify and address the structural issues that were hidden.

This house is us. The junk is all the unhealthy habits, coping mechanisms, and distractions that we’ve built up over our lives. The foundation, the walls, the windows, the roof—these represent our body, mind, heart, and soul. As we clear away the behaviors and beliefs that haven’t been serving us, we can pinpoint the issues underneath.  

I’ve been cleaning out my metaphorical house for more than three years. I started with my drinking because it was the towering pile that was getting in the way of the life I wanted to lead. Without the drinking, it became obvious that my TV and social media habits needed tackling.

There was and is no shortage of crap in my house. I am a hoarder of personal issues: Shopping and money-related anxiety, fixating on my weight and body image, people-pleasing, ruminating and catastrophizing, body-focused repetitive behaviors, procrastination tendencies, and so on.

This assortment of diversions, short-term solutions, and numbing techniques kept me from peering below the surface. Without all the clutter, I was able to get a good look at my self-doubt. Then I had to acknowledged that unless I wanted to fill myself up all over again with a new set of counter-productive habits, I needed to face my pain and my fears.

Keeping your personal foundation solid is an ongoing task, but much like a real house, if you want a nice place in which to live, you have to do the work!

The New Couch

I love analogies and metaphors. By translating abstract concepts into relatable situations, analogies promote understanding. Analogies and metaphors typically work best when they use everyday examples. Like a worn-out couch.

Imagine you have a sofa in your living room that is faded and sagging. It’s uncomfortable to sit on and stuffing is poking out of the arms.

But this couch has sentimental value. You’ve had it for a long time—perhaps it’s the first nice sofa you ever bought, or maybe your grandparents gave it to you.   

You know you need to replace this couch, so if you’re anything like me, you do one of two things…

A) After an embarrassing incident when a visiting relative struggled to extricate themselves from your sofa’s caved-in cushions, you banish it to an extra room or the garage. You now have one chair in your living room and a big empty space. You know you need to go buy a new couch, and you realize that if you keep putting off this task, you’ll be tempted to drag that dilapidated old thing back into the living room. Still, you procrastinate.

B) You go furniture shopping and fall in love with a snazzy new sofa. You purchase it, and the salesperson tells you it will be delivered in four weeks. You have plenty of time to make room for the new couch, right? But you put it off, and the next thing you know the furniture store is calling to set up a time to deliver your new sofa tomorrow, and your old one is still sitting right there.

In both cases, your shabby couch may be a reminder of good times, but it’s not doing its job anymore. At the same time, you have a living room with the appropriate amount of space for one couch. Zero couches will only work for so long, and two couches won’t work at all.

If you haven’t already guessed, the decrepit sofa in my story is a stand-in for any counter-productive behavior that is taking up space in your life. Like, say, social media scrolling, maxing out your credit cards, or gossiping. You may be well aware that you need to scale back or quit this habit entirely. But if you give it up without a plan for how to reallocate all the time and energy it’s been sucking up, you might find yourself right back where you started, like the couch-banisher in scenario A.

Or maybe you do have something you’ve been dreaming about—traveling the world, learning how to play the guitar, or starting a small business. Like the couch-shopper in scenario B, you have to make space in your life for this passion, otherwise where will you put it?

A little over three years ago I realized I was living in scenario B. My writing had been pushed aside while I drank wine and watched TV. I finally had to ditch alcohol and reduce my media consumption to make time for my writing and all the other things I wanted to do.

If you can relate to situation A or B, I’m pretty sure there’s an amazing new couch waiting for you. But you have to do the work of finding it and clearing the way.

My Fleeting Flirtation with TikTok

Like many people, I fell in love with comedian Sarah Cooper earlier this year. I wanted to easily find all her Donald Trump lip-syncing videos, and I heard she was posting them on TikTok, so I downloaded the app onto my phone.

Coincidentally, I had put myself in a social media “time-out” right before taking the plunge into TikTok. In quick succession, I had removed Facebook, then Instagram, and then Twitter from my phone. Each time I deleted an app, I found myself spending more time scrolling on whatever remained. I even took to scrolling on LinkedIn for a brief period! So, I’m sure you can guess what happened next.

First, when you download TikTok, the app asks you to check off what topics interest you. The subjects I selected seemed innocent enough, but the outcome was an endless stream of girls in bikinis doing identical dance routines.

This should have scared me off, and yet it didn’t. Fascinated, I scrolled and scrolled through videos of young women with seemingly perfect bodies, beautiful hair, and not half-bad dance moves. I started to feel bad about my own appearance, which is pretty stupid given the vast age difference between me and these video stars. Even the moms showing off their youthful good looks were at least a decade younger than me.

Disconcerting thoughts popped up: I’m pretty sure we didn’t have butts like that when I was a teenager! Was I ever that flexible or sexy? Could I get away with wearing an outfit like that at my age? And how come everyone lives in such a fancy, pristine house?

I had to remind myself that I was seeing these specific videos because they were among the most popular content on TikTok. Not everyone posting on the app looks or moves like that or has a closet full of trendy clothes.

The videos started playing in my head even when I wasn’t scrolling. Thus, after only a few weeks, I banished TikTok from my phone. Perhaps it was just a weird phase I went through in a relentlessly awful year.

Still, I’m mad at myself for falling prey once again to the idea that being “hot” is the ultimate achievement for women of all ages. For goodness’ sake, I worked at a feminist organization for 18 years and helped create content for a campaign promoting positive body images. Maybe that’s why I loved working on that project—because I was intimately familiar with the how the media exploit and even cultivate our personal insecurities.

Well into middle age, I haven’t really recovered from the sense that life would be better if I were more attractive. Instead, my fixations have simply shifted. Rather than hating on my big nose, my stubby legs, or my frizzy hair, now I’m more obsessed with my saggy neck, my stomach cellulite, or the gray in my hair.

As I try to escape this feeling of beauty inadequacy, the practices that work the best are spending less time looking in the mirror and waaaay less time scrolling through social media. When I’m moving my body as opposed to focusing on its reflection, I forget about my self-doubt.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m still on social media—and Instagram is back on my phone. But these days I consciously concentrate on the accounts I have deemed worthy of my attention, and I do my best to avoid the content served up through ads or the search function.

My recommendation: Identify why and how you want to use social media and stay within those margins!

Why I’m Breaking Up with To-Do Lists

IMG_3806

For as long as I can remember, I’ve loved making lists—particularly to-do lists. Those empty little boxes next to each task thrill me, and I can barely wait to fill them in with triumphant checkmarks.

Over the last couple years, my to-do list habit grew and morphed into something a bit more obsessive. The items multiplied and branched out into sub-categories. I experimented with keeping a Bullet Journal and settled on a variation that required me to rewrite the list over again every morning in a steno book.

Then I left my job and COVID hit, and suddenly I didn’t need such elaborate lists (if I ever did). And yet, I remained in thrall to those little suckers. They appeared on post-its and scraps of paper in my kitchen, in notebooks of all sizes, typed up in my phone notes, and in files on my laptop. I started to suspect that all this documenting and tracking of everything from trivial daily tasks to big life goals might be contributing to my anxiety.

Then, I got a brilliant idea, which I must credit in part to dancer, choreographer, and author Twyla Tharp. In her book “The Creative Habit: Learn It and Use It for Life,” Tharp shares her practice of temporarily removing the biggest distractions from her life in order to boost creativity and focus. For a week, she steers clear of multitasking, movies, numbers, and background music.

Tharp writes: “Subtracting your dependence on some of the things you take for granted increases your independence. It’s liberating, forcing you to rely on your own ability rather than your customary crutches.”

She’s right, of course. Quitting to-do lists for a short period of time felt so freeing that I’ve chosen to strike them indefinitely—maybe forever.

What am I getting out of it?

Once I stopped writing down all my tasks, I started to get a better idea of my true priorities. Apparently, in my haste to check off items on the list, I had been tackling the easy tasks first plus the ones I wanted to get out of the way. Consequently, the things I really wanted to do kept sliding to the bottom of the list and then on to the next day, and the next, and the next.

With no list taunting me, I’m able to ask myself, what do I want to do right now? And then I do it. It’s sounds ridiculous, but for someone like me, it seems to be working.

For important items, like doctor’s appointments, I schedule them in the calendar in my phone and set a digital reminder to make sure I don’t miss them. But I do this only for appointments that must not be missed. Everything else is up for grabs.

This hasn’t been easy. My hand wants to grab that pen and paper. My mind wants to see what all is on my plate. But I stop myself and move on. And it gets easier every day. My mind feels more spacious and fluid.

I also decided to stop mentally ticking off all my accomplishments for the day. I used to do this in bed at night, and though it sounds like a nice way to pat myself on the back, in practice it functioned too much like a nightly meeting with the judge who resides inside my head.

Maybe one day I will try making a simpler version of my to-do lists; or maybe, like alcohol, my life is better without them.

The Domino Effect

IMG_3598

Sometimes when I struggle with making a decision or writing a blog post, I “interview” myself. When I have some time alone, I ask myself probing questions and answer them, often out loud to hear how they sound. Does this make me sound nutty? Don’t answer that.

Recently, I asked myself what I thought was the most influential thing that I’ve done to improve my confidence and peace of mind. If I could recommend one big life-changing step to others, what would it be? This was not a difficult question to tackle, except I kept changing my answer—maybe it was quitting drinking three years ago, or maybe it was quitting smoking 11 years ago, or maybe it was something else.

Picture a long line of dominoes standing on their ends. When you push one it knocks down the next domino and so on until the final domino falls. Which domino would you say is the single most important piece in getting the chain from the beginning to the end point? The first domino gets everything rolling, of course. And the last one completes the action. But every domino in the chain connects the domino before it to the domino after it—each one serves a purpose and keeps the momentum alive.

That’s how it’s been for me this past decade-plus. Each decision I made to improve my life was often impacted by the decision before it and then led to a subsequent positive choice. After I quit smoking, I started exercising more. Feeling better made me want to live in a place where I could get outside more. When my husband and I moved, being around nature made me want to improve my physical and mental health even more. I started meditating and eating mostly Paleo. This led me to quit drinking, which led me to take a writing workshop. Writing more led me to leave my marketing job in search of something more fulfilling.

Each step of this journey played its part, just like each domino plays its part in the chain reaction. When we get stuck on one step, the way a domino occasionally fails to push over the next one, we can miss out on all the other great steps that are waiting on the other side.

So, I can’t really say what is the best life-changing action someone could or should take. But I can say that the most important thing you can do is identify the next critical action—whether it’s finding a form of exercise you actually want to do, leaving a stressful job, getting into therapy, moving on from a bad relationship—and take it, so that the domino effect of your life never stops progressing.

 

Memories of Tami: Sharing a Love of Music, Books, Food, and Laughter

1990_NYC_2
Me and Tami (at right) in our New York City apartment, late 1990 or early 1991. She’s wearing her “winter white” dress, and I think we’re celebrating someone’s birthday or New Year’s Eve.

Rag Doll livin’ in a movie, Hot tramp Daddy’s little cutie.

I can hear my friend Tami singing the song “Rag Doll” as if she were standing right in front of me. Her take was deliciously exaggerated—a cross between Mae West and an old-timey announcer. She loved Aerosmith. Lead singer Steven Tyler was high on her list of celebrity dudes she wanted to shag (the list also included John Cusack and Jeff Daniels).

Tami is gone now. She passed away suddenly on Feb. 23 of this year—just eight weeks ago, as I’m preparing to post this. I’ll never again hear her burst into song, which she did frequently, whenever the lyrics suited the occasion. We will never again sing any of the silly songs we both loved – like “Grab It!” and “Cars That Go Boom” by L’Trimm or “Girlfriend” by Avril Lavigne.

Laid out on my coffee table is an array of pictures of Tami and our close group of friends, taken mostly during our 20s and 30s. They tell the story of a woman who loved cats, often hoisting them high into the air for photos. You see a beautiful woman who looked great in a cowboy hat and once dressed up in a 1960s floor-length pink gown and shiny gold shoes for a small Thanksgiving dinner. A woman who loved going out with her friends. A woman who liked finger puppets, sunglasses, and the beach.

Aug2004_DCP_1852
Tami at Coney Island Beach, New York, August 2004.

Because of our age, my friends and I made very few videos together—instead I have albums full of old-school Polaroids and pics developed at the drugstore. A couple weeks after Tami’s passing, I was scrolling through the more recent photos on my computer and happened upon a rare video of her from the weekend my husband and I got married.

Tami and I are cooking in the kitchen; my husband is standing outside on the deck, shooting video of us through the window. We are singing and dancing to “Word Up” by Cameo. Unaware that we’re being filmed, we aren’t playing for the camera. Our motions and voices are low-key and natural. Tami does, indeed, wave her hands in the air like she don’t care. At the end, she lightly slaps her hand on her chest, just below her collarbones. I probably saw Tami do that hundreds of times and never really thought about it. But when I saw it on the video, the familiarity of it made me gasp.

If only I had a few more videos of Tami—moving images full of life and sound and the ease we felt with each other.

1990_NYC
Tami holds up my cat Nigel in our NYC apartment, late 1990 or early 1991.

Cat, hat. In French, chat, chapeau. In Spanish, he’s el gato in a sombrero.

I have no idea how or when Tami and I started saying this. It’s from a song in the 1971 Cat in the Hat TV special. One of us would randomly say, “Cat, hat,” and we would finish the rest in unison.

We had lots of running verbal jokes. In college, we relished torturing our friends with a weird game where we turned the lines of a song, any song, into a series of questions and answers.

“Tami, what is it?” “It’s all right” “When?” “Now!”

After a while, someone, usually Tracy, would ask us to knock it off.

“Hey Tami, ask me if we’re going to knock it off?” “Lisa, are we going to knock it off?” “I’m glad you asked, Tami. No!”

IMG_1132
Tracy and Tami (at right) dressed up for one of the many concerts we attended during high school, likely the Go-Go’s at Bayfront Center Arena in St. Petersburg, Florida, September 1982.

Tami would sit on the floor in the hallway of our dorm, talking to her mom or sister on the pay phone (another throwback!), and I would make it my mission to do a goofy dance for her until she cracked up.

One day when we were broke and bored, we spent hours going through a fashion magazine, making snarky comments about the content of every single page. I cut out a chart from the magazine that explained the different types of hepatitis and stuck it on her refrigerator door—just cuz.

I wonder what she had on her refrigerator in her last months. I hope there was something there that made her smile.

May2012_DSC_1270
Tami at the (Big Green) Eggfest in Waldorf, Maryland, May 2012.

Do you really want to wake up next to Ramone? “Why you jump ze bed so quickly on zis morning? Last night you were like wild beast. You must give yourself again to Ramone.”

This is from a comic strip called “Think Twice!” by cartoonist Lynda Barry. For years, Tami and I would recite it fairly regularly, complete with a corny French accent for Ramone.

We met around the age of 11 or 12. We were both late bloomers. For a few years, we were glorious dorks together. We loved the soap opera The Guiding Light and wrote many poems and spoofs about the characters on the show.

Tami would sketch a boy she named Junior, who was always getting into trouble and calling on his mom to rescue him. During our early high school years, I would beg her to draw new Juniors for me, and his predicaments grew more elaborate over time. After her passing, I unearthed a folder full of Juniors and the other artwork Tami would pass to me in class.

Oct2008_100_3294
Tami lovin’ on my cat Gretchen in my kitchen in Gaithersburg, Maryland, October 2008.

We ended up becoming high school cheerleaders. We left those dorky little girls behind. But we never forgot. Well into our 20s, after a few drinks, we might recollect how miserable it had been to be so far behind all the other girls.

We both majored in creative writing at college. Tami was a Hemingway gal, and I was Team Fitzgerald. We both read and re-read Ann Beattie’s “Chilly Scenes of Winter,” Lorrie Moore’s “Anagrams,” and Margaret Atwood’s “The Edible Woman.”

Not long ago I sent her the illustrated book “Hyperbole and a Half” by Allie Brosh because it reminded me so much of our Lynda Barry fangirl days. I only wish we had gotten the chance to sit down and read our favorite parts to each other.

1995_TerreWedding
Terre, me, and Tami at Terre’s wedding in New Jersey, June 1995.

One of the delights of life is eating with friends; second to that is talking about eating. And, for an unsurpassed double whammy, there is talking about eating while you are eating with friends.

Laurie Colwin wrote this in her foreword to “Home Cooking,” a book of cozy essays and recipes. Tami and I both adored “Home Cooking” and its follow up, “More Home Cooking.”

Many of the cookbooks on my shelf were purchased because Tami owned them first. Or because she picked up a yellowed 1970 copy of “The All New Fannie Farmer Boston Cooking School Cookbook” as a gift for me.

Tami was a whiz at cooking dishes all along the spectrum from simple to fancy. Terre recently reminded me how Tami introduced our group to Supremes de Volaille Printanier (chicken breasts with asparagus and carrots) from page 26 of The New York Times 60-Minute Gourmet cookbook.

Her macaroni & cheese was outstanding. And not only did Tami make great meals, but you could always assign her dessert for Thanksgiving or dinner parties, and she would produce something amazing. Her lemon cake—with white icing, not lemon or cream cheese—was one of Stacey’s favorites.

June2011_IMG_0334
Stacey and Tami in St. Petersburg, Florida, June 2011.

One of her prized skills was being able to tell exactly what size container was needed for any given amount of leftovers. Whenever I’m not sure if I should go with the larger or smaller container, I channel Tami’s supreme confidence in this realm.

Cooking with Tami was always fun. You might even get into a heated argument with her and Fred over whether a squirrel climbed up the side of the building and took a bite out of the chocolate cake that was cooling on the windowsill.

Speaking of squirrels, not so long ago Tami regularly carried a “nut sack” with her so that she could feed the squirrels in the park as she walked to the subway station. She swore some of those squirrels knew her and waited for her.

I don’t doubt it.

Feb1992_FredBday_NYC
Tami with Fred at his birthday celebration in NYC, February 1992.

How much more can I take, Before I go crazy, oh yeah, Crazy, oh yeah, How much more heartache, Before I go crazy, oh yeah, Crazy, oh yeah

Tami and I were drawn to the Go-Go’s song “How Much More” in our senior year of high school because we were both going through a case of unrequited love. We bonded over how unfair it was that the boys we were infatuated with were unavailable.

To this day, I cannot hear “Total Eclipse of the Heart” without thinking of Tami playing it over and over after a bad break-up during freshman year of college.

For decades, we told each other everything about the crushes, hook-ups, and loves in our lives. We made up ridiculous nicknames for them and offered scathing re-evaluations of those who didn’t recognize what dazzling creatures we were.

Sep2009_DSCN0921
Tami, Victor, Geoff, and me at the Frederick, Maryland, restaurant Volt, September 2009.

In our 40s and early 50s, Tami was in a long-term relationship with my brother-in-law, which meant we got to see each other often, but it also made our penchant for sharing everything a bit awkward.

I feel honored and blessed to have shared so many moments with Tami over the course of four decades. Every decision, every milestone in my life was poured out to her in great detail. She was a best friend, a chosen sister, a steady presence—even when we were physically or emotionally distant.

Sadly, the last time I saw Tami in person was three years before her passing. We didn’t talk much on the phone anymore or text. But she was always in my heart and on my mind.

And she always will be.

May2012_DSC_1250
Tami at the Eggfest in Waldorf, Maryland, May 2012.

What to Binge After Tiger King – Part I

IMG_0918

Looking for something to binge watch during your home quarantine, now that you’ve seen Tiger King and Love is Blind? Well, as some of you may know, I watch a lot of TV. It’s been that way since I was a wee child and our TV sat on a wheeled cart that we swiveled back and forth between the dining room and the living room.

I’ve struggled to tame my media over-consumption for years now, and considerable progress has been made. My eyeballs are no longer glued to the screen unless I’m watching something I consider “must see TV.” But there’s a lot of good stuff out there, folks, and thanks to my husband we have every pay channel and streaming service known to humankind.

So, I am kindly sharing hundreds (if not thousands) of hours of research with you. Due to the sheer volume, my recommendations will be offered in parts—a limited series, if you will. This first part covers my favorite half-hour shows that first premiered during the past decade. Each show listing contains no more than 280 characters—just the basics to help you decide if each show is for you.

Enjoy!  Much more to follow during these cloistered times…

Half-Hour Shows (recent-ish—started in 2011 or later):

Barry

HBO; 2 seasons so far (2018-?)

From IMDB: “A hit man from the Midwest moves to Los Angeles and gets caught up in the city’s theatre arts scene.”

My opinion: Probably one of the funniest shows I’ve ever seen. Brilliant, quirky cast. Moody, wacky, bingeable. Alert: Very violent.

Brooklyn Nine-Nine

NBC/Hulu; 7 seasons so far (2013-?)

From IMDB: “…an immature but talented N.Y.P.D. detective comes into conflict with his serious and stern new commanding officer.”

My opinion: Gleefully goofy, charming cast, both broad and subtle jokes. Just try not to smile!

Catastrophe

Amazon Prime; 4 seasons (2015-2019)

Summary: Rob (from the U.S.) and Sharon (living in London) try to turn a hook up into a committed relationship.

My opinion: Hilarious, raunchy, unexpected, and engaging. If you’ve ever been part of a couple, you can’t help but relate.

Dead to Me

Netflix; 1 season, second one coming soon (2019-?)

From IMDB: “A powerful friendship blossoms between a tightly wound widow and a free spirit with a shocking secret.”

My opinion: Darkly funny, adult, lots of great twists, immensely bingeable. Two fabulous leading women.

Dear White People

Netflix; 3 seasons, fourth coming soon (2017-?)

From IMDB: “At a predominantly white Ivy League college, a group of black students navigate various forms of racial and other types of discrimination.”

My opinion: Funny, compelling, hugely entertaining, winning cast.

Enlightened

HBO/Amazon Prime; 2 seasons (2011-2013)

Summary: After a breakdown followed by a spiritual awakening, a woman makes it her mission to enlighten others and reform her workplace.

My opinion: Overlooked gem! Funny, bizarre, suspenseful, awkward. Laura Dern is fearless.

Fleabag

Amazon Prime; 2 seasons (2016, 2019)

From IMDB: “…a young woman trying to cope with life in London whilst coming to terms with a recent tragedy.”

My opinion: LOVE! Brilliant, hilarious, saucy, and touching. Second season is darn near perfect. Alert: Fourth-wall breaking.

The Good Place

NBC; 4 seasons total (2016-2020)

Summary: An eclectic group of characters explore what happens after death.

My opinion: Amazing cast, incredible concept, funny, intelligent, big-hearted, and full of interesting twists—what more could you ask for? A+ series finale.

High Fidelity

Hulu; 1 season so far (2020-?)

Summary: A record-store owner recounts her worst breakups while talking music w/friends.

My opinion: Zoe Kravitz is utterly cool AND relatable. Fun, hip, engaging, NYC-drenched. Alert: Lots of drinking/substance use, fourth-wall breaking.

Homecoming

Amazon Prime; 1 season, second one coming soon (2018-?)

From IMDB: “Heidi [Julia Roberts] works at Homecoming, a facility helping soldiers transition to civilian life.” Or are they?

My opinion: Intense, creepy, riveting, thought-provoking. A must for conspiracy fans.

The Last Man on Earth

Fox/Hulu; 4 seasons (2015-2018)

From IMDB: “…after a virus wiped out most of the human race, Phil wishes for some company, but soon gets more than he bargained for.”

My opinion: Hilarious, dark AND silly. Perhaps too timely? End of series leaves things hanging.

Mrs. Fletcher

HBO; 1 season so far (2019-?)

From IMDB: “A single mom whose son moves out for college begins a new life on her own.”

My opinion: Fun, provocative, complicated, and surprisingly tender. Alert: If “unconventionally sexy” gives you pause, maybe skip this one.

Russian Doll

Netflix; 1 season so far (2019-?)

Summary: A woman in Manhattan keeps reliving her same birthday party, trying to figure out how to break the time loop.

My opinion: Funny, edgy, mind-blowing, totally binge-worthy, top-notch cast, tight plot. A must for New Yorkers.

Servant

Apple TV+; 1 season so far (2019-?)

Summary: A husband tries a unique approach for dealing with a family tragedy while his wife hires a mysterious nanny.

My opinion: Super creepy, gothic, juicy performances, food fixation, keeps you guessing. Alert: Not for weak stomachs.

Shrill

Hulu; 2 seasons (2019-2020)

Summary: A young woman seeks creative and professional fulfillment and a satisfying relationship.

My opinion: Aidy Bryant rules! The whole cast is incredible. Funny, touching, surprising, inspiring, unapologetically fat-positive. Don’t miss out!

Your feedback is welcome. Did my brief recommendations sufficiently steer you in the right direction? Got any recent half-hour shows you think I should watch?