But one thing I do know is that watching the Los Angeles mayoral debate last week was bleak.

The city feels nauseous right now. Some people are excited, some are terrified, some are still carrying the psychic and material fallout from the January 2025 fires, and almost everybody can feel that Los Angeles is in a major transition. Between the Olympics, the entertainment industry wobbling around, the housing crisis, and the ongoing catastrophe of homelessness, the city feels like it is being remade in real time. Most people hate change even when they claim to want it.

When I’m in conflict with unstable, unserious, or just generally offensive people, I rely on one simple tool: you’re being weird.

“You’re being weird” is more than meets the eye—it’s a framework for engagement. It’s a way of calmly reflecting back to someone what they are actually saying instead of getting trapped in the chaos of their tone. I find lot of people try to dominate a conversation by saying something inflammatory and then forcing everyone else to react on their level, but I don’t think you have to do that. Often what they’re saying can be easily dismantled with a simple mirror held up to them, making them sit with what came out of their mouth.

I based “you’re being weird” (YBW), in part, on motivational interviewing, which is a respectful, curiosity-based way of responding to people that relies on empathy, reflective listening, and contradiction instead of blunt force. The goal is to help people hear themselves clearly enough to recognize the gap between what they say and what they’re actually doing.

To me, YBW does something similar, and reflects back the gap between what someone is saying and how deeply inhuman or bizarre they’re being. You cannot nervously defend yourself into someone else becoming reasonable. You cannot yell your way into someone else making sense. It can be as simple as “Why would you say that?” or “Where did that come from?” or “How are you going to arrest all 43,000 people experiencing homelessness when there’s only 12,000 jail beds? And who is going to pay for that? And would that really be cheaper than shelter and services?” Wait that’s not YBW, that’s just me. Anyways…

Sometimes the most effective thing you can do is hand people their own logic back and let the weirdness sit there in the room.

This is, to me, what should have happened over and over again during that debate.

One of the most exhausting parts of watching Spencer Pratt is that he says things with such confidence that you almost forget to stop and ask whether they make any sense. When he said that if he and Nithya Raman went under an overpass to offer treatment to unhoused people “like she wants to do,” she would get stabbed in the neck, the proper response was not to get flustered. What Mamdani has that Nithya lacks is part of the YBW framework. A cool, knowing, confident response that is not based in defensiveness, but inquisition with the surface goal of mutual understanding. We all want the same things—we just differ on the best path there.

The proper response was: Spencer, you’re being weird. When was the last time you even spoke to a homeless person? What exactly are you basing that on?

The widespread idea that homeless people are primarily a threat to housed people is just not supported by the facts. National homelessness advocates note that people living on the street are far more likely to be victims of violent crime than perpetrators, and the National Coalition for the Homeless has documented sustained violence and hate crimes against unhoused people.

Raman is not somebody who wandered into this conversation from the comments section. She is an urban planner, a Harvard and MIT graduate, current City Councilmember, chair of the Housing and Homelessness Committee, and co-founder of the SELAH Neighborhood Homeless Coalition, which means she came into office with actual field experience working on homelessness in Los Angeles.

So if Spencer Pratt wants to posture as the common-sense truth teller, I would very much like to know what he has personally done to end homelessness in Los Angeles besides narrate his own fear of it.

The broader problem here is that too much of the debate treated homelessness like a vibes issue instead of a housing and systems issue.

The data keeps saying the same thing: Los Angeles has a brutal affordability crisis. USC’s 2025 housing report found that more than 90% of renter households earning under $50,000 are rent-burdened, meaning they spend more than 30% of their income on rent and utilities. That same report ties local homelessness to local housing costs and notes that most unhoused Angelenos were living in the county before they lost housing. This is important because it means the crisis is not mainly a story about outsiders, personal pathology, or some sudden moral collapse. It is also, very obviously, a story about rent, wages, and a region that has made ordinary life economically impossible for too many people.

That doesn’t mean addiction and mental illness are irrelevant, but they are not the whole story, and acting like they are lets politicians dodge the harder, more structural truth. Housing matters. Shelter capacity matters. Services matter. Street outreach matters. And yes, treatment matters too. But if your analysis starts and ends with “these people need to be forced,” you are not actually describing the crisis, you are just telling me what kind of people you think deserve compassion.

At one point Pratt said “Inside Safe makes us outside unsafe.” Like, YBW ALERT!!!! What does that even mean? Literally what does that mean?! Karen Bass’s own city-facing materials say Inside Safe is a voluntary, housing-led strategy to move people from encampments indoors and prevent encampments from returning. As of February 28, 2026, the program reported 5,808 Angelenos moved indoors through Inside Safe and 1,431 permanently housed through Inside Safe. Bass’s campaign also points to a 17.5% decline in street homelessness over two years citywide, back-to-back annual decreases, and more than 23,000 Angelenos moved into temporary housing overall. The program isn’t flawless but it is unserious to talk as though nothing has happened, or that it even made homelessness and it’s impact on public safety worse. But I know people, and have had conversations with them, who are so angry and so dedicated to their perspective, that they’ll say these numbers are made up. It’s a fabrication—a conspiracy.

Now, if someone wants to argue that Inside Safe is too expensive, too temporary, too hotel-heavy, or too dependent on executive urgency instead of permanent systems reform, girl, fine, I even agree! That is an actual argument! That is a serious policy critique. “Inside Safe makes all of us outside unsafe” is not a real critique relevant to the program. It’s just babble from a rich white guy who has never done anything for his community until his house burned down, and even then, what has he really done?

Pratt kept saying it is illegal to live on the street, which is not even a clean sentence anymore, legally speaking. Before 2024, Martin v. Boise limited cities’ ability to criminalize sleeping outside when no shelter was available. But in Grants Pass v. Johnson, the Supreme Court changed the landscape and allowed local governments more room to enforce anti-camping ordinances, so now even if you have nowhere to go you can be punished for sleeping outside. Ultimately, this still does not make homelessness a simple crime problem that can be solved with law enforcement, it just means that the law can be crueler and more unjust.

And what makes that rhetoric especially empty in Los Angeles is that the city does not even have the shelter capacity to back up the fantasy of universal enforcement. In 2025, 43,695 people were experiencing homelessness in the city, but only 16,723 sheltered, meaning roughly 62% were still unsheltered. So when someone says people should just “go inside,” my immediate question is: inside where? There are not enough places for people to go, which means a huge portion of this conversation is built on pretending options exist that do not.

This information on availability of shelter and criminalization matters because all three candidates apparently signaled more appetite for police hiring, and both Pratt and Bass discussed ending harm-reduction programs like clean needle distribution (we can get into harm reduction another day.) It maybe sounds intuitive to people who want visible order, but there is a difference between wanting the city to feel safer and wanting policy that just performs disgust back to voters. If your framework is “I do not want to see this, therefore criminalize it,” you are not solving homelessness, you are outsourcing your emotional discomfort to law enforcement.

Los Angeles does need urgency, seriousness, and competence—but competence is not just sounding the most alarmed person on stage. Competency is knowing what the crisis actually is, and understanding that homelessness is bound up with housing supply, rent burden, wages, treatment access, shelter availability, and bureaucratic incapacity. It is understanding that people living on the street are often in extraordinary danger themselves. It is understanding that if you want fewer encampments, you need somewhere for people to go.

I watched the debate, I took notes, and what stayed with me most was not even the bad policy, or the way Pratt’s bullying nature railroaded two extremely well-decorated women on stage, it was the utter lack of empathy.

I guess I can understand how someone gets there if they have never talked to people in their community, never volunteered, never had to learn any of this, never had to look directly at the people they are talking about. If I didn’t have the career I have, if I didn’t speak to the homeless people around me, if I didn’t look up what the data actually says, maybe I would be easier to scare too.

It’s what feels so freaky and dark to me. We have become far too comfortable treating the most marginalized, injured people in this city as visual blight, logistical inconvenience, or personal threat, instead of fellow human beings deserving of love, dignity, and care. So many Angelenos do not seem to think with unhoused people at all, only around them, over them, or past them. Spencer Pratt put on display ignorance and a total failure of compassion, and I keep coming back to the same line: you’re being weird.

Sources:

https://cityclerk.lacity.org/onlinedocs/2023/23-1022-s26_rpt_cao_1-08-26.pdf

https://cityclerk.lacity.org/onlinedocs/2023/23-1022-s26_rpt_cao_1-08-26.pdf

https://cityclerk.lacity.org/onlinedocs/2023/23-0652-S10_rpt_cao_8-01-25.pdf

https://www.nyc.gov/assets/dhs/downloads/pdf/hope/hope-2025-results.pdf

https://cityclerk.lacity.org/onlinedocs/2026/26-0157_misc_02-06-26.pdf

https://www.supremecourt.gov/opinions/23pdf/23-175_19m2.pdf

https://la.myneighborhooddata.org/solachan-2025-exec-summary/

https://today.usc.edu/los-angeles-rent-burdened-households-basic-needs-usc-research/

NOT USED HOUSING FIRST SOURCES:

https://priceschool.usc.edu/news/los-angeles-la-housing-crisis-data-homelessness/

https://endhomelessness.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/10/Cost-Savings-from-PSH.pdf

https://endhomelessness.org/resources/research-and-analysis/how-much-would-it-cost-to-provide-housing-first-to-all-households-staying-in-homeless-shelters/

https://www.cherrywillowapparel.com/blog/the-economics-of-homelessness-why-housing-saves-taxpayers-money

link to my tracking spreadsheet here

Before I got better with my money, I got nosy.

I wasn’t perfectly disciplined, and I’m still not. I’m not even frugal, but I started paying attention to where it was all going, which alone made a huge difference.

I think a lot of people assume budgeting is the obvious first step when your finances are a mess. Sit down, make categories, assign limits, promise yourself you’re only spending $50 on dining out this month, and suddenly everything clicks into place. In theory? Lovely. In practice, for a lot of people—especially people who are already anxious about money—budgeting too early can feel like building a moral performance around numbers you haven’t even fully looked at yet. The implication on whether you’re “bad” or “good” can sometimes be too anxiety-inducing to even follow the plan you’ve set for yourself.

Tracking and budgeting do different psychological jobs, and that’s part of why I think tracking is the better place to start.

Tracking is observational: it asks, what happened? Budgeting is prescriptive: it asks, what do I want to happen? If money already feels emotionally loaded, the difference between those two can change how sustainable paying attention to your money is.

Tracking lowers the emotional temperature because you’re not trying to become a different person overnight, you’re just looking at what you’re doing. That matters because, as a 2026 Journal of Business Research article puts it, “those most in need of proactive financial engagement are often the least likely to act.” The same research found that perceived financial scarcity can lead people to avoid financial tasks even when those tasks would help them, and that this is partly driven by “impaired financial self-efficacy” and greater “financial risk aversion” (Wang et al., 2026, Journal of Business Research). In other words: when money already feels bad, a strict budget can feel less like a tool and more like another place to fail.

There’s also broader behavior-change research that backs this up. The National Academies’ review found that when “motivation is reduced and effort or costs increase, people will often need some way to self-monitor in order to sustain the change,” especially when life is already stressful or precarious. It also found that techniques like “self-monitoring of behavior” can help people both initiate and maintain change.

Additionally, research from the Journal of Behavior Therapy and Experimental Psychiatry shows that self-monitoring can change behavior even before some grander system is in place. One study on habitual behavior describes self-monitoring as “a common component of effective cognitive-behavioral therapy” and says it “enhances the patients’ awareness of their behavior.” More than that, the authors note that “being explicitly confronted with unwanted behavior often leads to immediate decreases of the unwanted behavior,” and that the “reactive effects” of self-monitoring tend to move “in the therapeutically desired direction.”

Tracking my spending was not just awareness for awareness’s sake, what I was seeing made me want to move differently. It was an intervention, and it worked partly because it made my patterns harder to romanticize, minimize, or avoid. I could see I had spent X amount in X days, and then could decide maybe not to buy a new dress, or go out with friends twice in one week.

It made my finances feel less haunted, less moralized, and more legible, and for me, that was the beginning of actual change.

At first, I wrote down every expense in the notes app on my phone. Literally everything. Every day. Bus fare, coffee, groceries, credit card payments, random convenience store runs, dumb little purchases that felt too small to matter, and mysteriously always added up. I wasn’t doing anything sophisticated, I wasn’t categorizing with elegance, I wasn’t even really changing my behavior yet, I was just documenting it.

That alone made me feel better—to just know what was going on in my accounts.

There is something incredibly soothing about replacing vague financial dread with actual information, and that part does take discipline. Anxiety loves a foggy room, thriving in the space where you know something is off, but you don’t know exactly what, and just writing down your spending turns on the lights.

Budgeting and tracking are related, but they are not the same thing.

You can absolutely do both, and eventually you probably should. But I think people get into trouble when they try to control what they haven’t yet understood. If you don’t know what your patterns actually are, your budget can end up being fantasy fiction. You tell yourself you only want to spend X on groceries, Y on dining, Z on shopping, but those numbers are based more on who you wish you were than on the life you’re currently living.

And then you “fail” the budget almost immediately, feel ashamed, decide you’re bad with money, and stop looking at it again.

When I started tracking, I learned that my money wasn’t disappearing—it was going exactly where I told it to. I learned that the little purchases did matter, not because they were evil, but because I had underestimated how often they happened. I learned that some categories were actually pretty steady from month to month, while others ballooned when I was stressed, tired, overworked, or trying to self-soothe.

Money is never just math.

It’s logistics, yes, but it’s also emotion, identity, reward, exhaustion, avoidance, hope, scarcity, fear, pleasure, and sometimes just wanting your life to feel a little less bleak. I wasn’t spending badly because I was careless. Usually I was spending in response to being overwhelmed. Ordering dinner because I was exhausted. Taking an Uber because I was running on fumes. Or buying the cheaper pair of shoes because I couldn’t afford to buy the nice, sturdy ones, which ended up costing me more in the long-run (buy it nice or buy it twice is so freaking real y’all). Buying something little because I wanted the feeling of relief, control, or reward.

Tracking helped me see that without instantly demanding that I become a different person. It just made me aware.

That’s the other reason I believe in starting here: tracking is less punitive.

It asks for honesty before restriction, and if already have a lot of shame around money, it’s going to be unsustainable. I do not think shame is a useful financial tool—it makes people hide from their money, and hiding is expensive.

Once I had enough data, patterns emerged.

I could see that I wasn’t just dealing with a spending problem or an income problem (which I still was), but also a mismatch problem. For a period of time, my expenses were simply outpacing my income, and I was using debt to absorb the gap.

A budget would have been useful eventually, but if I had started there, I think I would have made it too strict, too aspirational, too detached from the reality of my life. I would have tried to become “good” with money before I had even defined what was actually happening.

Tracking gave me a sense of control that I had been missing for a long time. I felt better, but not because my numbers were great. In fact, they were very, very bad.

But I could finally see clearly what was happening. Nothing was sneaking up or taking me by surprise. I stopped logging into my bank account and wondering where all my money had gone, or why my credit card balances were so high.

I knew where my money was going, and I could finally make real decisions about it. I could reduce, negotiate, automate, shift categories. I could mindfully cut what wasn’t serving me, and prioritize protecting what was.

Now I use a spreadsheet I’ve refined over the years, plus Rocket Money (please sponsor me) to help me keep tabs on recurring expenses and subscriptions. I’ve built a system that is much more organized than those early notes app lists. But I still think the original instinct was right: before you try to optimize your finances, observe them.

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Because I know myself, I’ve built my tracking spreadsheet around a little bit of psychological trickery.

I round up my expenses and round down my income.

Any expense gets rounded up to the nearest dollar. Regular bills get rounded up to the nearest five, so my rent, which is actually $1,638, in the spreadsheet is $1,640. If something is $18.20, it’s $19. If I make $5,169 in a month, no I didn’t. In my spreadsheet, I made $5,000 flat.

I “trick myself” this way on purpose. I would rather build my system around a slightly harsher reality than a slightly generous one. It gives me more of a cushion and a margin. If I can make my life work on the lower income number and the higher expense number, then I’m safer than I thought, and any leftover becomes a win instead of a rescue.

Below is my holy grail spreadsheet

The first tab holds all of my consistent information: regular bills, debt payments, savings allocations, and the rest of my standing financial life. Then I have separate monthly spending tabs where I track day-to-day expenses, and the leftover number from this main sheet is what my total monthly spending for each month gets tallied against. It lets me see the full picture in one place.

I also added a dashboard tab, which is basically the bird’s-eye view. This pulls together my monthly spending by category so I can see patterns over time without having to scroll through every tab and piece the story together manually. It’s helpful for seeing where I’m consistently overspending, where I’m actually pretty steady, and what kinds of months tend to get away from me.

The net worth tab lets me track my assets against my debts so I can see, in plain numbers, whether I’m moving forward. Income matters, and spending matters, but net worth shows me what I’m actually building.

I added a debt payoff tab because debt can feel impossibly abstract if you don’t have the full picture. We’ll get into Snowball vs. Avalanche method on another day, but I formulated this spreadsheet to automatically show you what order to go on depending on your method.

Tinking funds tab is where I map out the irregular but inevitable expenses—travel, gifts, holidays, car maintenance, things are not monthly bills but somehow always show up. These all go into just a few savings accounts, but having my goals separated out helps me keep my eye on what I’m working towards.

Lastly, my monthly tracking sheets. These are what take the most discipline, but it’s where it really comes together. I formulated all of these to feed into each other and help do the messy math work so you don’t have to. Once it’s written down, it stops being a shapeless, stressful blur in the background and becomes something you can actually respond to.

If your money feels slippery, chaotic, morally charged, or vaguely haunted, here is my first real piece of advice: do not start by punishing yourself. Start easy, and start by just watching.

I uploaded the spreadsheet for sale here, if you’re into that sort of thing. I listed it for $2.99—I don’t want to be a grifter but I gotta get my bag fr. Most budget spreadsheets on Etsy are between $10 and $30, so I feel like $2.99 is me being chill and not scammy.

If you want to, track every dollar for a month. Two months, ideally.

Be honest with yourself and let the numbers reflect the truth back to you. You are not doing this to embarrass yourself—you are doing it to gain awareness and to begin changing your behavior.

Once you know where the money goes, you are no longer just bracing for impact, you are actively building a plan.

For me, tracking my spending was the beginning of getting out of debt and building my net worth.

april 16–30 spending.

A very expensive little stretch of days, as it turns out.

I picked a hell of a month to start doing this.

Read more

When I was 18, I moved out of my mom’s house and started paying my own bills immediately. There was no long runway, no gentle glide path into adulthood. It was more like “Okay, you’re up. Figure it out.”

I didn’t come from money, so from pretty early on I understood that if I wanted stability, I was going to have to build it myself. My mom helped when things were truly urgent, and I’m grateful for that. But she was never the kind of parent who was going to swoop in and absorb my consequences for me, and honestly? Thank God. If she had rescued me every time I panicked, I probably never would have learned how to calm down long enough to teach myself anything.

By 23, I was living in Los Angeles, working two restaurant jobs, and doing the kind of math that people who have been broke know by heart. How much is in checking? What can wait until next week? Can I make this stretch?

I kept my expenses low. Do I actually need groceries, or can I just eat at work and call it resourceful? I kept my expenses low because I had to. I didn’t have a car. I didn’t go shopping. I ate shift meals, took the bus, went out with my friends after work for a well tequila soda when I could, and then woke up and did it again.

My life was small in a very specific way. Not bad, definitely not joyless, but constrained by math. Money narrows your imagination when you don’t have enough of it. You are forced to think in terms of getting through, not getting ahead.

A year later I started working in social services, and the irony hit me immediately—my new salary working with women experiencing homelessness full-time actually paid me less than my part-time restaurant tips. I cared deeply about the work, and I still do. But caring about the work did not make my bills cost less. So while I was trying to build a career preventing and ending homelessness for others, I realized that work alone was not going to keep me housed in Los Angeles.

Around the same time, I went back to college. I was taking LA public transportation from school, to my social services day job, to my restaurant night job, and back home, trying to keep all the plates spinning. I needed to get a car; my life was structurally unsustainable without one.

Buying a car also meant taking on debt. A used 2015 Toyota Prius, 50k miles, $10k after I negotiated them down by $4k in 2019, which frankly remains one of my finer moments. Icon behavior. But still, it was an auto loan. It was roughly $10,000 in new debt added to a life that was already financially fragile.

That’s the thing people do not always say plainly enough: not all debt comes from recklessness. For a great deal of people, debt comes from trying to survive your own life more efficiently. Sometimes it comes from trying to get to work on time. Sometimes it comes from wanting one thing to be a little easier so that everything else does not collapse.

At first, I told myself I was fine because I was technically handling it. Bills were getting paid, minimum payments were being made. I was working constantly, and I was tired, but I was functioning. Which is how a lot of bad financial situations hide in plain sight. Nothing was dramatic at first, it just slowly got tighter and tighter.

One credit card turned into two, two turned into four, and four turned into me consolidating my credit card debt on an evil little app called Tally, which is now mercifully defunct. Tally’s interest rate was 13%, which at the time felt like relief compared to the 30% interest rate on my Bank of America starter card. And when the BofA card was cleared off, I did what a lot of people do when they don’t actually have a new system, only temporary relief: I ran it right back up again. I was sinking… fast.

By 25, I had about $15,000 in credit card debt.

And that number was only part of the picture. When you added in my car loan and student loans, the total debt was around $25,000. Seeing it all together made me feel sick, not because I thought I was a bad person, or stupid, or uniquely irresponsible, but because I could suddenly see that I was headed toward a life I did not want. I knew what it felt like to have no margin. I knew what it felt like to be one setback away from disaster, and I did not want to stay there.

So I got honest.

I did a total inventory of what I owed and what I earned, what I was spending, and how long this had clearly been unsustainable.

This was just the beginning though. There wasn’t a magical turning point where I suddenly had an extra $25,000 to throw at my debt. It wasn’t manifestation, and there was no quick off-ramp to the quicksand I’d gotten myself into. There was no fantasy solution or dramatic rescue, and that’s why I’m even making this series.

I did eventually get from about $25,000 in debt to a positive net worth.

I didn’t become financially stable overnight, I didn’t receive a mysterious financial blessing, and I damn well didn’t give up every nice thing in my life.

I did it by learning, tracking, adjusting, automating, messing up, correcting, and staying with it long enough for the math to finally work in my favor.

This series is me showing my work.

Every two weeks, I’m sharing what I spent, what I made, and one lesson at a time—the actual steps I took to build financial stability with no safety net, no family money, and go from $25k in debt to a $55k net worth in five years.

It’s not millionaire content, it’s my real-life. What I’ve done is repeatable, and built for people who need their money to actually work.

april 1–15 spending.

The details:

$25 to a bestie via Venmo for a treat — she was going through it, and sometimes the most useful thing you can do is just make someone’s week slightly less hard.

$53 on Stumptown Holler Mountain coffee — yes I know, it’s bougie. I’ve had this coffee on subscription for years and it has never once let me down. Some subscriptions are indulgences, but this one is part of my infrastructure.

$55 on dining + drinks — TGIF cocktails and appetizers with another bestie!

$54 on sushi ordered in — I was exhausted and I needed someone to bring me fish and miso soup while I catch up on the latest season of Industry.

$5 on a Harvard Business School case study about Aldi’s expansion strategy — this one’s actually fascinating if you’re into retail economics and how a deeply no-frills brand became one of the most successful grocers in the world. Between their low margins and massive volumes, the whole model is wild. I wish they were a publicly traded company so I could read all the financials. Linked here.

$500 deposit on a full bar for my wedding party — the most necessary line item on this list.

$371 on a wedding party dress — facetiming with my girls later today to see if this is the one… I’m on the fence. Will keep you updated

$111 to The Ally Coalition — a nonprofit supporting LGBTQ+ youth, founded by Jack Antonoff. I’ve worked with this foundation and their staff are truly incredible, and the work they do is so unique and loving. Healing arts is real, y’all! Donate here.

$74 on dining + drinks — wine, deviled eggs with caviar, and a Waldorf salad with good company. Followed by….

$16 at the Vista Theatre to see The Drama — the Vista is one of the last single-screen movie palaces in LA and seeing anything there feels like a small act of cultural preservation.

$52 on Zen Principle Marine Collagen subscription — this is my favorite one. Collagen supplements are really popular right now, and it’s important to make sure you’re using one that meets your needs. I chose this one because Marine collagen has a smaller peptide size, so it’s easier for your body to absorb. Marine collagen also targets hair, skin, and nails, whereas bovine is better for joints and bones. The Zen Principle collagen has types I, II, III, and IV, so I’m getting all the benefits possible, and it’s hydrolyzed, which means it’s broken down to make it even more bio-available. I mix it with colostrum in harmless harvest coconut water before coffee. It has 9g of program per serving, so it’s a good way to help avoid a coffee-induced cortisol spike and stabilize blood sugar!

$47 on drinks — Another night out with a friend, catching up over a couple cocktails 🕺🪩

boring stuff

$78 — cats, litter and wet food re-stock

$24 — shopping, tupperware, packing tape

$294 — groceries

$24 — bills, gas

$64 — bills, cell phone

$17 — bills, simplisafe

$18 — subscriptions, Netflix

$17 — subscriptions, Peacock (reimbursed by Amex)

$4 — subscriptions, NYT (reimbursed by Amex)

$10 — subscriptions, Uber Eats (reimbursed by Amex)

$7 — subscriptions, Spotify

april 1-15 income.

From my full-time job:

$1,826 in general checking — Where everything gets paid from: bills, credit cards, the unglamorous.

$140 in car payment checking — A dedicated account just for my car payment, at the credit union I refinanced my car through. More on that later.

$100 in personal savings — Every period, no matter what. Automating savings is a cheat code — it stops savings from being “whatever’s left over” and makes it a line item. This used to be higher, but since I hit three months emergency savings I’ve scaled it back to pay off my student loans faster and invest more.

$30 in joint savings w/ Jordan — A basic HYSA for me and bae. We primarily use it for travel expenses. It takes the sting out of a flight and makes saying yes to a trip feel a lot less fraught.

$30 in joint fertility savings — We’re not trying yet, but we’re planning. Starting to save now means that when we’re ready, the money stress is one less thing on an already emotionally loaded to-do list.

From other sources:

$720 from dog sitting — I started dog sitting in 2023 when I needed the supplemental income more urgently. As my career has grown I’ve needed it less, but I still have one family I work with and genuinely love it. There is something really grounding about having an income stream that’s just yours, outside of your main career, that helps relieve some pressure.

Not included:

$100 in my Roth IRA — I will never track my retirement as income. I don’t even think about this money, ever, but I’m insistent that it’s always building. I intend to increase my contributions soon, I’ll let you know.

$150 in my 403(b) — this is the same as a 401(k)

the takeaways.

I’m leaving the first half of April in the green, but I went a little wild and I know it. I’m tighten up my purse strings from here.

Was this as fun for you as it was for me?

Lesson 02 will be here May 02.

I’ll go over tracking vs. budgeting, and my updated spending and income diary.

LYLAS 💋

I don’t know if my relationship with my dad is that unique, it’s pretty textbook fear-of-abandonment-daddy-issues-industrial-complex type vibes.

Dad abandons daughter > daughter has bad romantic relationships > daughter does therapy for years to undo abandonment issues > therapist makes bank

I didn’t expect the resolution to come at 2pm on my birthday, uninvited. I didn’t know I’d actually be ready for it. It just turns out 31 was when I finally ran out of grief to give it.

What nobody tells you is that sometimes the closure just texts you.

I was in 5th grade when I first felt a visceral static of embarrassment cover my body.

I called my dad, and left voicemails, three times throughout the week, only for him to laugh it off the next time I saw him and say I was over-dramatic. I remember this as the moment I learned not to call my dad until he called me. And even then, to let him go to voicemail, make sure to wait a few hours before calling back. To be wanted instead of wanting. To leave before you’re left.

My understanding of how to navigate relationships, specifically with men, was wholly informed by the lessons my dad taught me about love. It is conditional. It is a game. You will always be alone. You are not owed anything.

By the time I was 24, I came to certain resolution.

I was sick of repeating the same relationships with different people.

I needed to sit back, begin to grin, and undo my paternal woes.

I had spent, at this point, a full decade centering my psyche and self-worth on my romantic pursuits. I chose the most unattainable, unstable, uncaring objects of affection. I pursued them strategically, only to lose my ever-loving mind when it didn’t work—when they didn’t somehow become the polar-opposite of who they were, when they didn’t absorb me, heal me, put a generous salve over the father-sized-hole in my heart.

After a handful of truly horrendous straight relationships, a few trial and error efforts navigating any type of relationship with my dad, and lots of therapy, I carefully unwound this thought pattern, breaking apart, rearranging, and putting back together what I thought were my instinctual modes of operation, the aspects of myself I was certain were intrinsic.

We had one final conversation last May. I thought.

My dad was the cool dad and my preferred parent—the one who let me watch TV, play video games, eat McDonalds, ride my bike wherever, for however long I wanted. In retrospect, this was probably just a lack of parenting in a kid-friendly form. Not the lack of parenting that is total abandonment, but don’t worry, he’ll get to that later!

My parents were never married, and my mom became pregnant while my dad was in his senior year of college, studying English and Religion. The year I was born, my dad went to law school and became a criminal defense lawyer, eventually evolving into a police brutality and prisoner rights lawyer. These facts about him are fucking annoying because it reminds me that we are ultimately still attached—that parts of me are parts of him, no matter how badly I wish they weren’t.

In 3rd grade my world shifted when he got married. Typical evil stepmom—no TV, no video games, no McDonalds, no riding bikes, no climbing trees, no talking on the phone, no listening to the radio, no time at friends house, no speaking to my mom. This matured into a custody battle between my parents, and the restrictive behavior grew and grew. Eventually, my mom needed to start taking pictures of my body when I returned home from my dads house for evidence. It’s only in the last few years that my former therapist broke my brain by calling it what it was: abuse.

They began having their own children, and after three kids in three years they moved to rural New Hampshire before my freshman year of high school. I can’t count the phone calls—my pleas for my dad to care were unrelenting. My mom was in the hospital consistently during this time, and with truly deeply genuinely no shade to any of the caretakers that stepped up as best as they could, I felt completely lost at sea. I was poor and I was alone; I was a 15-years-old.

Over time, these conversations became further and fewer between. They always ended the same way. My dad blaming my mom, blaming me, saying he was sorry I felt that way, but it wasn’t true, it wasn’t him, it wasn’t his decision. If only my mom was calmer, he really could have been there! If only I didn’t complain so much, he really could have cared about me. If only I didn’t react, or cry, he probably, definitely could have been my dad.

The last time I saw him I was 18. He came into town for a work visit.

A funny brief anecdote that Jordan loves to pull out of me for company:

When I was 21 I decided to move to Los Angeles, and I did it in two weeks. Absolutely insane, undeveloped-frontal-cortex behavior.

My dad just so happened to call me in this two week period. Mind you, in these sporadic phone calls, he never remembered anything about me. Where did I work? The same place. Where did I live? The same apartment. Who was I dating? The same person. If he wasn’t so young, I’d have thought it was dementia.

So, he calls me this random time when I happen to be packing to move to LA, and I tell him, and he asks why. For some reason, maybe because he never remembered anyway, I told him I was moving to be on a Reality Television Show! Yeah! I just randomly got cast in it so I’m moving out there to start pre-production.

Suddenly, the calls start to pick up in cadence. I’m hearing from him more than ever before, and he’s remembering! He’s remembering what’s going on in my life, that I’m in this reality tv show, of course, that we’re in pre-production, and it’s just about me and my friends lives! He’s so interested and he’s loving to talk to me!

After four months, I decide I can’t keep this lie going. It feels weird that he suddenly cares about me, and it even feels a little mean on my end. So I tell him the truth: I wasn’t on a reality TV show, I worked in a grocery store. That’s when the phone calls end, and maybe it was actually my fault he couldn’t be a good dad. I mean, who would want to have a parent/child relationship with a daughter who lies about being on reality TV? Totally justified!

So here I am, mid-20’s, and I realized I’ve got to fix this on my own.

He’s not going to suddenly recognize the error of his parenting, and even better, now he has six kids, and they’re all homeschooled, and his wife is a stay-at-home-mom, and they’re anti-vaxxers, and they’re conspiracy-theorists.

When I say that, I mean like Sandy Hook was a hoax, Bohemian Grove, Covid is a hoax, doesn’t vote in elections because he wouldn’t “vote for his neighbors master” type conspiracy-theorists. Turns out he might have been right about the Bohemian Grove of it all. They’re real home-maker, off-gridder types on the coast in Florida.

But I go to therapy and I accept him as he is, the random phone calls, the never remembering, whatever. I convince myself it’s no skin off my back.

I finally figured out how to have a healthy relationship and worked hard to develop secure attachment. Jordan and I started dating, moved in together, got engaged, I told my dad this as it happened. I went back to college, I got promotions every year, I engaged with volunteer work, I read challenging books, I told my dad this as it happened. Part of me hoped it built some incentive for him, a reason to invest more in our relationship.

As I was approaching 30, I started taking stock of my life and relationships, and realized it had been 12 years since I saw my dad. This isn’t for lack of trying—I had asked over and over—I offered anything I could to make it easier for him to say yes.

What was the point in a bi-annual phone call with someone who can’t remember anything I’m doing or anything about my life, especially if I’ll likely never see them again because they do not care about seeing me?

March 29th

He texts me happy 30th birthday and I don’t respond.

May 28th

He calls me. We have small talk. He tells me when he was 30 he was terribly depressed. Really? I couldn’t tell, but then again, I was only 8. Well yes, he was terribly depressed, he couldn’t afford anything, he was so poor. He says he’ll let me go, he can tell I’m busy (I wasn’t).

This was my opportunity, I decided, to tell him how I felt, and that I didn’t really see the point in doing this anymore.

He told me was sorry, he didn’t know I felt that way. Then he lobbed excuse after excuse at me, each one denser and more dramatic than the last.

First, it was my mom's fault. Classic. She always made it so hard for him to see me—she's crazy, she's difficult, she's the obstacle. This has been his go-to since I can remember. He knows exactly what he's doing, this excuse has always made me extremely defensive. My mom was my primary caretaker and my closest confidant. She is the one who actually showed up—through every barrier, every difficulty, every thing that was put in her way—to take care of me.

I responded measured and calm, simply refuting with reasoning and facts. Plus, my mom hasn’t interacted with him since I was 21, so here we are nine years later and there’s no excuse for that time.

Next, it was my fault. I was too wild as a teenager, I was partying, I was unmanageable! Again, that was over a decade ago, so no excuse for that time.

He said I have a bad relationship with my stepmom, so I can’t be around her. I told him I haven’t talked to my stepmom since I was 16, so I don’t have a bad relationship with her—I have no relationship with her. If she has a bad relationship with me, well, that’s weird to have beef with a 16-year-old from 14 years ago.

I asked if she was familiar with childhood development theories, the psychological impact of being a teenager without consistent parenting in poverty, or simply that people grow and change over a decade and a half. I told him I have no positive or negative feelings about my stepmom, and I’m happy to speak with her to resolve this. And again, over a decade with no reasonable excuse.

He began hand-wringing, he just didn’t know what to do, he guessed he could talk to her about it?

Then he punched me square in the face. Metaphorically.

They don’t want me around their kids because they only want them to see “normal behavior.”

I asked him what he meant?

He meant that I’m gay.

When I started dating Jordan, I didn’t think twice about it. I didn’t grow up in an environment where there was anything weird or abnormal about being gay. Telling my mom I was seriously dating a girl felt the same as any of the times I told her I was dating a guy. I didn’t think about any of my friends or family responding negatively. It just literally never occurred to me that in my world, in my circle, in my people, I would encounter that. I know how lucky that is.

I also never saw my dad that way. When I told him we were dating, we moved in together, we got engaged—it never crossed my mind. I never thought my relationship would become a weapon. This one especially, my first relationship that didn't have his fingerprints all over the wreckage.

Worse, it was a weapon he hadn't used before.

One I was completely unfamiliar with, one I had no muscle memory for.

He told me he was sorry, it must be really sad. I reserved my tears and said it wasn’t sad for me at all, actually. Truthfully, I felt bad for him. It would be suffocating to live in a world pretending much of it doesn’t exist. It would be painful to render large swaths of people “wrong.” It would be challenging to raise children to believe the world is something it isn’t, and distressing to watch them experience it as adults, undoing everything you did. I said it’s really only something people who are deeply unhappy do. I don’t feel that way, act that way, or think that way, because I’m happy in my core.

And I didn’t even “come out” to him until I was 27. So, now sandwiched between the mom excuse and the gay excuse, there’s still six years of parenting he has an unexcused absence from.

Order in the court bitch I just demolished his arguments!!!!! I knew he was over there yelling OBJECTION YOUR HONORRRRRRRR!!!!!!

I told him that if he wanted to have a relationship with me, he needed to confer with his wife, resolve whatever homophobia they have, or developed, and let me know. I wouldn’t hold my breath but that’s the only way to move forward.

He said he would talk with her and call me back.

It’s March 29th, 10 months later, and I want to sit back and relax and enjoy my birthday when all of a sudden I hear this agitating, grating voice.

I realized over time he did exactly what he always did, it’s a trap I had fallen into many times with him.

He chose excuses he knew would get a reaction out of me, and each time one of them didn’t work, he ratcheted up the heat.

He wanted me to be emotional. He didn’t want me to reason with him, or calmly explain my perspective. After all this time of telling me why my wailing kept him away, I realize he always wanted me to wail.

The wailing was the ultimate excuse.

I was too crazy. I was too emotional.

This was exactly what I had repeated ad nauseam in my early romantic relationship. Something cracked open in the sky, and any remaining unresolved questions of self-doubt and insecurity—or guilt over being a little too crazy with exes that undoubtedly drove me to the corner of Crazy Street and Crazy Lane and dropped me off—were soaked up and wrung out.

My only question was to respond or not respond.

Do I say clearly the ball was in his court and he chose this?

Do I finally take off the cleats and let the game go?

I decided to close the circle.

"Thanks for the well wishes, but I honestly don’t understand why you’re even texting me. Last time we spoke 10 months ago, you made excuse after excuse for why we can’t have a relationship with any sort of substance or meaning. First, you said it’s because my mom is crazy. Then you said it’s because of my behavior when I was a teenager, and that [redacted stepmom name] is upset with me. And then you took it to a place of full on homophobia: you and [redacted] don’t want gay people around your children. Or as you put it, you want your children to be modeled after “normal behavior.”

We left that conversation with you saying you’d talk to [redacted] and then I never heard from you again, unsurprisingly. And so I can only assume you circling back 10 months later to provide a short “happy birthday” is to check a box and to make you feel just a little bit better about yourself.

I’m an adult now. I navigate the world around me with honesty, humility, and accountability. I am kind, resourceful, intelligent, and perhaps most relevantly, extremely boundaried. If this kind of communication is what you think I deserve, respectfully, I request you keep it to yourself. Your yearly happy birthday texts are not welcome at this point. They’re just an upsetting reminder, on a day I should be celebrating, that all I am worth to you is more paltry than the bare minimum.

If you ever decide you want to have an actual meaningful relationship with your daughter and accept any accountability for your actions, I’m open.

That being said, I suspect that the way in which you’ve compromised being my father might be too overwhelming for you to ever accept. I believe it would too greatly disrupt the narrative you’ve told yourself about who you are, and what you value. It's probably just easier for you to just have an estranged daughter. And that’s ok too, I just don’t need to be dragged along on the in-between anymore.

Wish you well, don’t think it’s worth maintaining the facade, thanks, and bye.”

Eight minutes later.

Every time I’ve extended the generosity of having even a little expectation, he’s reminded me of exactly who he is.

Eight minutes is not enough time to property metabolize that lengthy and serious of a text from your child.

But to turn it around so quickly, to victimize himself, and make it my responsibility to absolve him?

Oh boo-hoo. Case closed.

New rule: ya gotta pay for the personal posts, I’m privatizing this ish next time.

I’ll tell you my tea but theres a $5 barrier to entry 💋 LYLAS

This week I watched Louis Theroux’s new documentary “Inside the Manosphere”… who knew that’s even what it’s called. After establishing five male influencers pushing the narrative that men are built to dominate and women are meant to submit, the apex of the film reveals that each of these red-pill influencers who hate women have one underlying fear—a group of people in charge of the world at-large, dedicated to ruining the global west. At first, one influencer, Sneako, says the group in question is a satanic cabal, but upon minimal pressing, the subjects resoundingly share the true culprit: “the Jews.”

“The Satanic Cabal” is a reference to QAnon, and itself is an anti-semitic dog whistle, so both answers are ultimately anti-semitic. And while I could muse on the global rise in anti-semitism, I’m mostly struck again by conspiracy theories driven by feelings of disempowerment. All five of these men have overwhelmingly based their identities around being “alpha,” and suddenly the root of it all is Jewish people? If you can’t succeed, it’s not your fault, it’s a global conspiracy, driven by some “other” whose sole purpose is to ensure you stay broke and uninspired.

This reminded me of the commentary following Love Is Blind: Ohio. Essentially all of the men this season displayed a real lack of EQ, and Chris in particular explicitly referenced Andrew Tate, saying he prefers women who do pilates every day (over the hot literal doctor he was coupled up with) and thinks men should be dominant in all situations. I shared a note here after I finished watching the reunion, quoting a Substack post from writer about how this season of LIB exhibits a central theme: that Democratic messaging misses the mark on targeting men in rural areas.

I said “It’s bigger than Ohio, or the rust belt, or democrats. Women across the world are excelling, and mediocre men don’t know how to cope with a world that isn’t revolving around them anymore. They are resentful and scared, and red-pilled ideology gives them the relief of feeling disenfranchised, when in fact, it has always been up to them to evolve and build a fulfilled life.”

What shocked me though, is as I watched the reunion, I couldn’t believe how badly I felt for these men.

Now, this is wholly unlike me. I’ve limited my proximity to cisgendered men strategically, given that I generally don’t like them. I don’t have contact with any male family members, I don’t date men, I don’t even work with men. I have pretty much designed my life to avoid them. Not to dog on them too much, I just usually like women more and am statistically much safer with them.

And while the men on LIB: Ohio were mean, and I mean mean, I saw a deeply vacant ununderstanding of the real implications of their actions. While Chris and Devonta apologized, they seemed to lack anything further than that apology itself—no reasoning, no reflection, no why. What a hollow feeling that must be. How frustrating to not grasp your own actions. And yes, ununderstanding is a word, thank you.

These men have been handed a villain—women, feminism, modernity—which at least externalizes the pain, but it’s still an obvious misdirection. We see this reckoned with in Theroux’s documentary, as he asks the wives and mothers of these influencers what they think, and the men waver in real time. They can not stand to actually be pressed in the face of women they love and at least minimally respect.

One influencer, Harrison Sullivan, even admits in front of his mother that he’s intentionally inflammatory and doesn’t necessarily believe what he says. He says clearly his intention is to clip-farm, a digital marketing strategy to drive engagement through rage-baiting, dramatic, or divisive content.

I couldn’t believe he said the quiet part out loud—the framework that is radicalizing men, driving a global spike in antisemitism and encouraging gender-based violence against women, is a content strategy.

Men are not wrong to feel like they have the raw end of the deal. In many ways they do. They were failed by a culture that never taught them to metabolize accountability, because accountability requires first being taught that your interior life matters and that other people’s do too.

The world has restructured itself faster than the support systems around men have, and we are the first generation watching them try to acclimate in real time. No one anticipated how badly they would need help developing the tools to navigate a world where they are beholden to the worthiness of their character, not a world where others are beholden to them simply for being men. While I may disagree that women being able to have their own credit cards is an actual threat, apparently for men it’s a real loss that needs real infrastructure, and what it got instead was Andrew Tate.

The vacuum is genuine and legitimate pain with nowhere honest to go, and it’s exactly what the grift depends on. You need someone to be angry at, and they have a very convenient list ready for you, for $29.99 a month.

Just like MAHA, these red-pill influencers are running the same business model. One is selling you a course in “The Real World” (real thing, linked here) and selling a story about how feminism is destroying the nuclear family. The other is selling you supplements and the story that Big Pharma is poisoning you. Both are charging a subscription fee to access the “truth.” Both are counting on you feeling unheard enough, failed enough, and scared enough. They are counting on you to line their pockets and trust their get-rich-quick schemes, not to make the world a better place.

The MAHA influencer wants you to believe the answer is a $90 supplement and a distrust of doctors. The red-pill influencer wants you to believe the answer is a return to hierarchy. Neither of them wants you asking who closed the hospital, who defunded the school, who allowed the AI data center to be built nearby, wiping out blue collar jobs, raising your energy bills, and poisoning your water. Because the second you start asking those questions, you stop being a customer and start being a constituent, and a constituent with accurate information is the one thing every single one of these people cannot afford.

The government should have built that infrastructure, through schools, mental health resources, through economic policy that didn’t hollow out entire regions and leave men with no identity outside of a job that no longer exists.

The villain always changes—its “the Jews,” the pharmaceutical industry, it’s 5G, it’s trans people—but the transaction is identical.

I went to Google “what percentage of billionaires are Christian” and the first two suggested searches that populated were about Jewish people. Which tells you everything about how effectively this propaganda works. But here’s what the actual data says: over 55% of global wealth is held by Christians, who make up 31% of the global population. That’s the group that’s disproportionately represented. About 56% of the world’s millionaires identify as Christian. Seven of the ten wealthiest countries by millionaire count are Christian-majority. Geography and generational wealth accumulation explain a lot of that, but the overrepresentation is real.

Jewish people, by contrast, represent about 1.1% of global wealth. Among the global billionaire class, roughly 11.6% are Jewish, about 165 out of 1,426. In the U.S. specifically, Jewish Americans are 2-3% of the population and make up a higher share of the billionaire class, which is real and worth understanding accurately. The documented reasons are historical: for centuries, Jewish communities across Christian Europe and the Muslim Middle East were legally barred from owning land or entering most professions, which pushed them toward urban trade, finance, and commerce—building intergenerational networks and expertise in the exact sectors where wealth concentrates today. Wealth concentration in Jewish families stems from a history of exclusion producing adaptation, not a conspiracy producing control.

The same accurate statistics get weaponized constantly. The difference between legitimate sociological observation and antisemitic conspiracy is the why—whether wealth concentration is attributed to historical and structural factors, or to secret coordination and malign intent. “Cabal” is one of the words designed to do the latter while sounding neutral.

The antisemitism is not incidental to the business model, it’s load-bearing. It has to be a shadowy, powerful, coordinated group. It can’t be a school board decision or an insurance reimbursement rate or a zoning meeting, because those things are boring and they don’t have a face to put on a thumbnail. “Jewish elites” is a centuries-old ready-made villain that requires no evidence and explains everything. That’s why it keeps showing up. That’s why global antisemitic incidents have risen sharply every year since 2015. That’s why Sneako, a man with millions of followers, said it on camera without hesitation.

So yes, there is a global group making a concerted effort to hold you back. It’s just not who they’re saying it is. The conspiracy is real, it’s just boring. It doesn’t have a symbol and a bloodline, it has a PAC and a tax attorney, and it’s counting on you being too busy being angry at the wrong people to notice.

It reminds me of the episode in Industry, where the wealthy elite and the government collude to avoid accountability for their public failings (the ones bankrolled by taxpayer money) and when anyone gets too close to asking real questions, they redirect. As Otto Mostyn said, “Oh, and if the press come knocking, ask something that'll use up oxygen, like, um, can a woman have a penis?”

The question was never about women. It was never about Jewish people. It was never about your doctor or your masculinity or your supplements.

Further Reading:

Why Men Are Drifting to the Far Right by

Are young men increasingly supporting the far right?

Beyond Angry White Men: a progressive sociological imagination as an alternative to aggrieved entitlement

Sources:

Pew Research Center

Beliefnet

Wiley Online Library

CNBC

P.S.

Just some news driving my point home…

E.P.A. Moves to Weaken Limits on a Cancer-Causing Gas

Jordan, my fiancée, and I began looking for a new home early last fall, which anyone in a major city will understand is entering a battlefield of mind, body, soul, and finances. Over two months of applications, lackluster viewings each weekend, and must-haves vs compromises, we ultimately reviewed the real possibility of moving back to my hometown, Kansas City.

Jordan loves KC, sometimes more than me, and we’ve played with the idea of moving there before. She’s from San Diego, and the thought of moving a California native out of California gives me pause, but she loves the slower pace of life, the genuine kindness extended by most everyone, and of course, the affordability.

Nearly a decade ago, I decided to move to Los Angeles in a split second for a relationship, and even though that ended (also in a split second) I wanted to stay and give it my best go. All that trouble couldn’t be for nothing, and in time, it wasn’t.

As my lifestyle, goals, and priorities evolved, I’ve lost connection to a reason I’m here, other than of course the best friends I’ve made, the career I’ve developed, Jordan’s family, the culture, the climate, all of the climates. Typing it out, it stops making as much sense. But a good deal of the parts of my life that I value most are more accessible in my hometown, like that slower pace of life, that affordability, that genuine kindness from your neighbors.

I keep thinking about raising a kid, and letting them ride their bike without me, and where I could do that. For some reason, I keep going back to my kid riding a bike alone, and I think about Kansas City. I still say “hi” to everyone I pass when I walk by them on the street, even after 10 years.

What really really holds me back is the politics of two lesbian moms in Missouri. Unfortch, the rights of LGBTQ people are not the greatest in the Bible belt.

In 2025, Missouri proposed more anti-LGBTQ bills than any other state legislature, which lead to a population loss. The Trevor Project found of LGBT people ages 13-24, 4% left their state due to legislation, and 39% are considering fleeing. Additionally, an analysis in partnership with Movement Advancement Project found that up to an estimated $879 million in LGBTQ+ household and business income has left Missouri in recent years. So it’s kinda like, yeah, wait why am I gonna move there? I really believe in the power of staying and fighting, I’ve never been the type to seriously consider leaving the U.S. because of our politics. But running towards it?

In November, we finally found a gorgeous single family home only to promptly discovered it was not what we had dreamed, of course! While the interiors are everything and more (part of the reason we hastily signed), the exterior has my cortisol on high.

We essentially moved from suburbia to city center, and all that comes with it. Now, I’ve lived in some hot neighborhoods before, this isn’t my first foray into an active area, but I’m getting older and I’m tired.

I’m taking steps to make it better while I’m here though! I started emailing with my city council member about my concerns, like people speeding 30 over the wrong way down my one way street (awesome!), and bought a trash picker to clean up my new neighborhood. I’ve never had so much drama with trash in my life but I do love being part of a community! I’ve leaned into what is, instead of reminiscing on what was.

But then came Thursday.

I received an email from my property owner—he’s listing our new home for sale. We’ve only been here three months…

The price alone is a mortgage more than twice our monthly rent. That would be a non starter for most buyers as they can’t raise our rent more than 10% annually, but he's actively marketing it as a multi-unit development opportunity, which pretty much signals that any buyer would evict us and level the place to build apartments.

We scoured our lease and reviewed our protections, and any no-fault eviction would require a payout, and we again revisited the question: is it time to move home?

There are three other things holding us back:

1. Jordan’s career is pretty central to Los Angeles, so she would need to advance a teensy bit further for transferability to a less entertainment-industry-centered city.

2. IVF is covered through insurance in California, and out of pocket averages $25,000 in Los Angeles for a single cycle. It takes an average of 2.3 cycles for a successful pregnancy. And to think, some of y’all just have a kid for free!

3. General quality of healthcare, hello maternal mortality rate.

My best friend back home, pandering to my love of math, financials, and cost-benefit analysis, texted “What are the numbers if you ran this equation: Money saved in rent between the two locations (A), How many months until you have a baby (B), Interest gained investing in the stock market or HYSA (C). (AB)xC = Potential IVF dollars”

The difference in rental payment is likely around $1,000 each month, and I won’t have a baby for a couple of years, so calculating for 24 months:

• $1,000 each month with an 7% interest rate (average stock market) would be $1,686 in daily compound interest, giving me a total of $25,686.

• $1,000 each month with an 4% interest rate (average HYSA) would be $943 in monthly compound interest, giving me a total of $24,943.

This, plus the likely salary cut Jordan would face doesn’t make a move financially sound right now.

Onto maternal mortality rate.

California’s rate is 10.1 out of 100,000 births, and Missouri is 25.4, with Kansas shortly behind at 23.1. Do I want to take my odds of saving some money and give myself a .0001% chance of dying or a .000254% chance. Am I making something up, or is double the chance of dying, albeit small, worth it?

My research on maternal morbidity led me to a larger indictment on the healthcare system though. Black women face a shockingly disproportionate rate at 50.1 deaths per 100,000, nearly 3.5 times that of white women, who have the second highest rate at 14.5.

This panel report from the National Institute of Health details this disparity, and introduced me to a new term by Daniel E. Dawes “Political Determinates of Health”, which explains succinctly how structural racism influences Black mother's morbidity.

Dawes argues that politics sits upstream of everything we typically call 'healthcare.' Before a Black woman ever walks into a delivery room, decisions made in legislatures, zoning boards, and insurance committees have already shaped the quality of care she'll receive, the hospital's proximity to her home, whether she has paid leave to recover, and whether her pain will be taken seriously when she reports it. The social determinants of health, like income, housing, environment, are themselves products of political choices. I love when we can succinctly name that the suffering people go through isn’t natural, it isn’t unavoidable, it’s a policy choice.

And that disparity doesn’t dissolve when Black women cross state lines into ‘better’ healthcare systems. A Black woman in California still faces a higher risk of dying in childbirth than a white woman in Missouri. The problem I was trying to solve by not moving—geography—turns out to be secondary to a risk factor many women can’t relocate away from.

Some states have tried to reckon with this honestly. California launched the Black Maternal Health Equity Collaborative, and has pushed to expand Medi-Cal coverage for doulas, recognizing that continuous, culturally concordant care moves the needle in ways that hospital protocols alone don’t. At the federal level, the Black Maternal Health Momnibus, a sweeping legislative package that would fund community-based care, diversify the perinatal workforce, and address social determinants, has been introduced in Congress twice now and has yet to pass. The political will to fix a crisis is, apparently, also a political determinant of health.

All this machinery moves a little too slowly for me, so I looked up some people and places doing the ground-level work that Congress keeps tabling. Black Women’s Health Imperative is the oldest national organization dedicated solely to the health and wellness of Black women, they work across policy, research, and community advocacy to address exactly the kind of systemic failures that inflate that 50.1 number. I donated here, and you should too.

Recently, I watched a NYT Opinion video (gift link here) about how wellness influencers covertly peddle MAHA conspiracies, all while selling you their home-made, holistic cure.

What struck me most, though, is the piece’s insistence that the root fear being tapped by these grifters is real—our healthcare system is broken, and we are reluctant to trust the professionals because the influence of Big Pharma™ is too intertwined.

But left out of the conversation by MAHA enthusiasts is the most impactful antidote—addressing the Political Determinates of Health Dawes writes about.

You don’t need a detox cleanse from Sarah Jo, a stay-at-home mom of six who’s also selling raw milk on Instagram. You need a government that doesn’t let radioactive nuclear waste sit in your water for 80 years, while actively denying it's there, leaving your community with abnormally high rates of cancer.

You don't need a wellness influencer telling you to manifest your healing and take a $90 adaptogen supplement. You need a government that doesn't let rural hospitals close at a rate of nearly ten per year, leaving millions of people more than an hour from the nearest emergency room, and then act surprised when maternal and infant mortality rates climb. Over 700 more are at-risk of closure in the near future, Medicare covers rural hospitals more frequently than urban hospitals, meaning the most compromised, underinsured patients are now even more vulnerable. This is by design—studies show that private plans frequently pay less than the actual cost of care, quietly bleeding rural hospitals dry. But don’t worry, they’re not going to regulate insurers, they’ll just push for Medicare cuts because you don’t want anyone benefiting from your tax dollars, right?

We’re paranoid because our government knowingly leaves us hanging to dry, so while I’m weighing one of the most damaging experiences I can put my body through, I might as well stay where the government cares at least a little bit more. I’ll keep you update on how my house being sold goes.

content of the month

It’s been so long I don’t even know what I’ve consumed.

Quick review of dining from when my friends where in town!

• Petit Trois - always perfect, always recommend. perfect pacing, perfect food, perfect drink. 10/10 forever

• Little Dom’s - good to mediocre! service wasn’t great, but I was sat next to Sean Baker, which was ironic considering our next stop…

• Jumbo’s Clown Room - always amazing, always runs my bank account dry. I ended up outside talking with one of the dancers about urban planing and Mike Davis’ City of Quartz. Need to go back ASAP tbh.

• Four Seasons Beverly Hills - accidentally ended up here because I wanted to go to Saks to find some bankruptcy deals (btw Saks off 5th has crazy sales rn). It worked out because I got a cardigan from the Row for truly 80% off but I had to pay $34 for an espresso martini. won’t be back.

• The Tower Bar - I’ve wanted to try here forever, it’s an institution! I hated it <3 Food and drinks were mid and everyone was full of themselves.

• El Compadre - classics are classic for a reason! plus this is where schwartz got katie a mariachi band and she genuinely thought it was so romantic. vibes!

books!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I read Heart the Lover by Lily King over the two rainy days Los Angeles was lucky to have. King adheres herself to a stream-of-consciousness, making a point but then circling back around with ease, type of prose that I felt a real kinship to and made for easy reading.

She’s also a true literary head and makes that clear throughout the book, which is about three english majors in a love triangle, and how that shapes out later in their lives. I wasn’t pleased with the later in life shape of the book, but I appreciated her dedication to citing Southern Gothic authors.

King calls out Carson McCullers, who holds a special place in my heart. My mom gifted me The Heart is a Lonely Hunter in 8th grade. I can prove it because it says “Christmas 2007” in the corner, and I honestly feel gagged right now that she thought that was a good gift for a 12 year old. I might re-read it.

She also shouts out Philip Roth, who is not typically categorized as Southern Gothic but I think he is. Argue with a wall. I read When She Was Good after the episode of Girls where Hannah Horvath says it’s his worst book but she still likes it. I went on to read American Pastoral and then understood why the former is considered his worst work.

Anyways, Heart the Lover was good, 3.5/5, and I will read Writers & Lovers next!

I started reading Frankenstein: The 1818 Text by Mary Shelley and am literally overcome by it. It’s taking me a bit longer to consume… I keep drifting off into daydreaming and thinking of all the ways our world has evolved and not evolved at all since Shelley published this.

Charlotte Gordon, writer, Missouri native, and basically scholar on Mary Shelley, says “It is a study of guilt and innocence, creativity and destruction. But it is also a cautionary tale. By fearing the stranger, by abusing the vulnerable and the outcast, society creates its own monsters.” I couldn’t have said it better, ugh!

It also makes me think about my dad a lot, and what I’ll do if he wishes me happy birthday this year, but maybe I’ll talk about that on here another day? Also, randomly my paternal grandparents house burnt down in the last month. See, I can’t wait months to write my freaking substack blog, there’s too much going on.

Lastly, I’m reading An Indigenous Peoples’ History of the United States by Roxanne Bunbar-Ortiz. Also not far into this one… like really not far, but I’m trying to soak in every word. It’s books like these that make me verklempt and in utter awe of how much I don’t know. I learned the reason Mayan civilization collapsed was untenable labor exploitation and extreme taxation, leading to consistent uprisings and dissension. Like, did you guys know that? That’s kind of what it always comes back to, huh? Wait, don’t let me forget to tell you guys what I learned about the Puritans either… Next time I promise!!

financial corner

Last week, in a DJT/Bibi collab, our seemingly joined country of the United States of Israel bombed Iran, and is indicating an upcoming boots on the ground war. Because of this, oil prices have skyrocketed, and the stock market is down af.

When things go on sale, you buy them right? so I bought FXAIX, FIDRX, FSUTX, and FIREX. This isn’t advice, this is what I did, this is about me, ok?

I also bought any upcoming flights for the year. Gasoline has already risen 11%, and crude oil has surged, topping $90/barrel on Friday, with real fear it could hit $100. For context, it was sitting at $67/barrel the day before U.S. attacked Iran, so we’re already in volatile territory.

Jet fuel runs on oil, and the Strait of Hormuz—which sees 31% of all seaborne crude oil trade and 20% of all oil trade—is essentially paralyzed right now. Airlines are not in the business of eating that cost, and they will hand it directly to you, and soon.

We’re in for a mess, whether it be commodities, interest rate cuts, or supply chains, and that will create volatility in the market. I’m going to keep buying in little increments while things are low, and take my foot off the gas when it starts to level out again.

After all, Trump will likely change course soon, he always answers to the stock market. Midterms are coming up and $100 for a barrel of oil isn’t a good look. But who knows, he might be taking a page out of Bibi’s book—stay in war if your position of power is threatened.

Totally forgot to mention I also got covid for the first time ever. Anyways, I’ll be back sooner rather than later with more. LYLAS!!!! <3

Turns out videos about the history of political violence in the United States aren’t that popular, but maybe articles written by one girl every couple weeks will be? Follow along for more.

Video transcribed from September 19, 2025, following the murder of C*****e K**k, with edits and additional material from my notes.

The word on the street right now is that political violence is at an all-time high,

we’ve got to do something about it, we’re at our breaking point in America, we’re about to never be able to come back.

I really view history as a solace and a salve. I don’t think that I have any motivation to do anything if I don’t have hope for the future. In my last video, I told you bitches to go open up a history book, but I figured I would just make it easier for you and give you the information here.

This is part one of my series of the United States history of political violence.

I’ll review periods of time when political violence was more intense, more severe, lasted longer, had more casualties, why it happened, what themes we see, and how did we get through it? How did we move on? What did the next phase look like?

We could start off with the way that the United States was colonized back 500 years ago. When Europeans first came to the Americas, the indigenous population in America was 60.5 million estimated. By the turn of the century, 1900, it was 230,000. Suffice to say, a lot of political violence took place.

We could also talk about the Revolutionary War. We could talk about the Civil War where 750,000 people died, but I kind of want to move to Reconstruction, which I think is one of the most pivotal times in American history. There’s so many parallels, like I can’t even touch on all of them.

Set the scene for Reconstruction, January 1, 1863, we have the Emancipation Proclamation, famous, I’m sure you’ve heard about it, which was us declaring, Lincoln declaring, slavery is no longer legal. We’re not gonna do it anymore. We’re over it. It’s done. It’s yesterday. But we’re still in the Civil War.

1865, we get the 13th Amendment, which says in the Constitution, we’re not doing slavery. It’s illegal now, but if you know, you know, it kind of still is legal, we’re still doing it in prisons, but that’s a whole nother pipeline to get into. I can’t touch on today, but I can later if you guys want me to.

Then the Civil War ends officially April of 1865, and then like a week later, Lincoln is assassinated. Also, I just want to sprinkle in here that the Northerners were not really fighting the Civil War because they were so hardline about slavery. Most of their motivation was to keep the South in the Union. There was a lot of economical and political power tied up in retaining the South, so let’s just not get it twisted, it wasn’t really all the way about slavery.

The South, though, is absolutely fucked after this. Their buildings, their land, their institutions, everything is just gone. They really don’t have much to work with. Additionally, a lot of their white working class died in the war, and now they don’t have Black people to profit off of slave labor. So economically, they’re pretty fucked. It’s a tinderbox of resentment and emotional angst and economic hardship. Is this sounding familiar? Is this sounding familiar to you at all?

Here begins Reconstruction,

From 1865 through the late 1800s, this era is defined not just by new freedoms for Black Americans but also by violent white backlash. Any attempt at structural change—political participation, new rights, multiracial democracy—was met with violence. So TW racial violence.

The first major flashpoint is the Memphis, Tennessee Massacre, May 1st-3rd, 1866.

In 1860, the Black population of Memphis is 3,000, and by 1865, it’s 20,000. There are Black Union soldiers that were stationed and still living in Memphis, Tennessee, and there’s an all-white police force. There’s already a lot of tension over who’s in authority, I suppose. The white people are really not fucking with it, they’re deeply unhappy about the situation. Clearly, there’s a lot of police brutality that goes on because of this dynamic and a lot of white institutions backing that up.

These four white policemen walk into this group of Black Union soldiers hanging out with their friends and family, like just having a good time. And they’re like, “Hey, you guys gotta get the fuck out of here.” The Black Union soldiers are like, “We actually don’t like... We can hang out. It’s really no big deal.”

Because there’s only four white cops, they bounce. They’re like, well, there’s way more black Union soldiers than there are of us, but we’re pissed that they just didn’t listen to us. One of them, it’s documented, shot himself in the leg, and goes back to all of his other white people and shares that he was shot by the Black Union soldiers. They round up all their white people, get them all riled up and pissed off. They go back. None of the black Union soldiers are there. But they’re still pissed. They’re still angry.

These white men go around town indiscriminately, killing people, burning down their homes, burning churches. In some cases, they forced people to stay inside their homes while they burned them down. In total, 46 black people and two white people died. One of the white people wounded himself and succumbed to his injuries, and the other white person that died was killed by another white person. 75 people were injured, over 100 robbed, five black women reported being sexually assaulted and testified to the subsequent congressional hearing committee. 91 homes were burned. 89 of those were held by black people. One person was held by a white person, and one was held by an interracial couple. Four black churches and 12 black schools were burned. So a lot of damage done.

But Memphis was just the beginning. Over the next decade, there is just a complete wave of violence across the South. And the formula kind of always stays the same with these—Black political power grows, white people get pissed off and wanna reassert control and dominance, and violence ensues.

Below are the massacres and violence that took place over this period:

Memphis, TN Massacre — May 1–3, 1866 — ~46 deaths

New Orleans, LA Massacre — July 30, 1866 — 34–200 deaths

Franklin, TN Riot — July 6, 1867 — ~4 deaths

Rogersville, TN Riot — July 26, 1867 — ~8 deaths

Pulaski, TN Riot — January 7, 1868 — ~18+ deaths

Camilla, GA Massacre — September 19, 1868 — ~9–15 deaths

Opelousas, LA Massacre — September 28, 1868 — ~100–200+ deaths

St. Bernard Parish, LA Massacre — October 24–25, 1868 — ~35-130 deaths

Eutaw, AL Riot — October 25, 1970 — 4 deaths

Meridian, MS Race Riot — March 1871 — ~30+ deaths

Colfax, LA Massacre — April 13, 1873 — ~62–153 deaths

Coushatta, LA Massacre — August 1874 — ~6–26 deaths

Eufaula, AL Massacre — November 3, 1874— ~7–70+ deaths

Vicksburg, MS Massacre — December 7, 1874 – early Jan 1875 —~75–300 deaths

Clinton, MS Massacre — September 1875 – dozens of deaths

Ellenton, SC Riot / Massacre — September 1876 — ~30–100+ deaths

Hamburg, SC Massacre — July 1876 — ~6–7 deaths

I just wanna note from a data perspective that at the time, the casualties of Black people were vastly underreported. Contemporary newspapers under-reported Black deaths, and later reconstructions of totals vary. I relied on leading secondary sources (Equal Justice Initiative, Britannica, congressional reports, and municipal/historical sites). Where estimates vary, I show a conservative range.

This list focuses on major, documented massacres/riots driven by white supremacist/anti-Black violence during Reconstruction (not every lynching or isolated killing). It is likely not literally exhaustive—dozens of smaller incidents and many unrecorded killings took place.

Historian Robert Smalls has estimated that the approximate overall deaths of Black people during this time was 53,000.

Out of this list of events, and yes, I ran the data and I ran the numbers, 83% were directly tied to elections, voting, or political organizing, and the remainder 17% were more about general white resentment of Black people and Black freedom, though still within the broader politics of Reconstruction.

Then there are three moments that I consider “wars” of Reconstruction, essentially, because they aren’t riots or massacres, they’re outright political battles.

Kirk–Holden War, 1870

Brooks–Baxter War, April–May 1874 (200+ deaths)

Battle of Liberty Place, Sept 14–17, 1874 (31+ deaths)

Kirk-Holden would kind of be like if when there was that “Unite the Right” rally in Charlottesville, the Governor Terry McAuliffe used the National Guard to squash it. Except the KKK was extremely violent and terrorizing Black people, and the Gov declared an insurrection, suspended habeas corpus, and arrested suspected white supremacists. but then the population accused him of being overbearing and a tyrant, and he was ultimately impeached, becoming the first Gov to be impeached.

Brooks-Baxter is like if when Mamdani won, Andrew Cuomo swore that he actually won, and the two of them had literal armies that got into physical battles. They’re both the same party, but one is more progressive, and in my example, it would be like if Trump came in and said actually Cuomo won. and it was for Governor. but whatever. You get it.

Battle of Liberty Place is like if the proud boys decided they didn’t like the results of a state election, rolled into a major city with thousands of armed men, overthrew the elected government, and took over the city for days. And instead of it being random chaos, it was organized, coordinated, and openly political. They literally installed their own government.

You can see the thread here: whenever Reconstruction governments tried to implement structural change—whether through law enforcement (Kirk–Holden), contested elections (Brooks–Baxter), or direct governance (Liberty Place)—white supremacist groups responded with violence, eroding the foundations of Reconstruction until it collapsed.

Fast forward to 2015–2025, and while the scale of violence looks different, the underlying dynamic is familiar. The Charleston church massacre (2015), Charlottesville (2017), and the January 6th Capitol attack (2021) all reflect organized white supremacist or extremist efforts to resist structural change.

Just as in Reconstruction, gains in political representation, demographic shifts, and movements for racial justice were met with backlash. Voter suppression has also remained central: after 2013’s Shelby County v. Holder weakened the Voting Rights Act, states passed restrictive voting laws targeting communities of color. Violence and intimidation around the 2020 election, from armed protests to the insurrection, echo Reconstruction-era tactics aimed at undermining trust in elections and blocking multiracial democracy.

The difference is scale and state response. In the 1870s, the violence was widespread, often killing dozens or hundreds at a time, and local law enforcement typically sided with the perpetrators. Federal intervention was inconsistent and ultimately retreated, allowing Reconstruction to fail.

Whenever the country tried to take steps toward multiracial democracy and racial equality, white supremacist groups responded with violence—massacres, assassinations, or even open warfare. Reconstruction shows us that progress in the U.S. has never come without backlash, and that structural change is always contested on the ground. This really set the precedent that the federal government could intervene in order to further civil rights.

In 2015–2025, political violence is less deadly in sheer numbers, but its symbolism is powerful. Events like January 6 show that extremist groups are still willing to use violence to contest elections, just as the White League did in New Orleans in 1874. The test for our own era is whether the federal government and democratic institutions can resist that backlash more effectively than they did 150 years ago.

So how did we heal from Reconstruction?

We didn’t really, sadly. It came through retreat. By the mid 1870’s, violent white resistance (KKK, White League, Red Shirts, etc.) had made Reconstruction governments nearly impossible to sustain. In 1877, there was a presidential election where the Democratic and the Republican candidates were pretty much deadlocked. The Democrat, Samuel J. Tilden, won the popular vote and 184 electoral votes, just one shy of electoral victory, and Republican Rutherford B. Hayes received 165 electoral votes. The gag is, several Southern states sent in disputed electoral votes, and any of the disputed votes in Tilden’s favor would secure his victory, so both parties claimed victory and the country was on the brink of a “constitutional crisis.” Again, sound familiar?

How do you solve this? You create a congressional commission of course!!! YES! BTW, before I go any further, this is before the D’s and the R’s switched sides. Hayes was an abolitionist and, as an attorney, defended slaves who had escaped from Kentucky and lived in his native free state Ohio. It’s been theorized (over and over) that behind closed doors and off the congressional floor, the D’s and the R’s brokered a deal. D’s would acknowledge Hayes as president, in exchange for the following:

• Federal removal of troops from the South

• One Southern D in Hayes’ cabinet

• More railroads in the South (they were literally obsessed with railroads at this time, I swear everything goes back to the railroads. Maybe this is why I know so much about railroads because I’m kinda obsessed with this time period)

• Legislation that would help restore the South’s economy and help them industrialize

• Freedom to do what they wanted with Black people without the North interfering.

This is known as the Great Compromise of 1877, where they essentially said “You know what? This isn’t worth it. We’re over fighting about this with you guys.” They basically just sacrificed Black people in order to rejoin as a country and move on.

(I just want to separately also note that in addition to sacrificing his ideals in exchange for political power, Hayes ordered the National Guard and federal troops to squash the protests around the Great Railroad Strike of 1877. So not a totally great guy and again… railroads.)

(and also Tilden was suuuuuper anti-Tammany Hall, which bolstered his ascension to power, and like, if you haven’t looked into Tammany Hall, highly recommend.)

After Reconstruction collapsed, Southern states rolled back Black political rights through:

• Voter suppression (poll taxes, literacy tests, grandfather clauses).

• Segregation laws (the Jim Crow system).

• Terror (lynchings and paramilitary intimidation).

The Supreme Court backed this system with cases like Plessy v. Ferguson (1896), which legalized “separate but equal.”

So the nation “moved forward” by allowing white supremacy to harden into law and practice. It showed how we prioritized having national unity over black freedoms and democracy.

The South reframed the Civil War as a noble fight for “states’ rights,” not slavery.

Monuments went up, history books were rewritten, and Confederate leaders were celebrated.

So while we gained the 13th Amendment abolishing slavery, the 14th Amendment, which is birthright citizenship, and the 15th Amendment saying that you can’t deny someone their right to vote based on race, the federal government pretty much just said “OK, well, like, we did all that we can do, so we’re just gonna turn our backs on this situation now.” But it’s always gonna come back up.

We really moved forward through economic excitement when the U.S. industrialized rapidly in the late 19th century. Political energy shifted to railroads, immigration, and westward expansion and both major parties agreed not to enforce Black rights in the South. But Black Americans didn’t stop fighting, they built churches, schools, mutual aid societies, and laid the groundwork for the later civil rights movement.

This time period also gave Black people the right to vote, to hold political office, run for political office. There were thousands of Black men that held political offices at all levels. These were men that were born in slavery and over the course of their lives were elected to Congress.

OK, I’ll be back with the next chapter on the Red Summer of 1919.

White supremacy is not a political ideology that is up for debate or is valid. It doesn’t mean shit around here.

LYLAS!

part one

I decided to read the bible and I could not even get through the first book of Genesis without needing to talk about it, so here begins my series of me recapping the bible.

We start off heavy, they really come in swinging saying that women suck, are destined to suffer, and need to obey men. Obviously, this comes from Adam and Eve, she sucks because she picked the apple, whatever. They lost me as quickly as they got me. I immediately felt like this book isn’t for me, but I’m gonna keep going. It is the most famous book in the world, so I’m going to give it a chance.

We kind of brush over how mankind was created, it goes by really fast, and I just thought there would be more information about the literal creation of everything. Not enough world building in my opinion.

Why does the Bible say everyone is like 900 years old? Am I missing something? I tried to figure out why this was, what this meant, and couldn’t find an explanation. Noah is lives to be 950 years old. Methuselah (not a hard name to spell when you break it up) is 969 (not a hard number to remember, but my goodness, do I feel bad for that first 9) years old.

The story of Noah’s Ark is hilarious when reading it from the bible directly. I can’t believe that God created all these people, like, he really did his work, and then was like, “Actually, I messed this up. Like, you guys are bad, you’re sick, you’re twisted. I need to just start over so I’m just gonna flood it. Noah, you’re ok, so I’m going to let you stick around and you can be responsible for it.” Like, what a raw deal for Noah. Then pretty much immediately following the Ark, Noah discovers how to make wine (Thank you! Love that!) and he gets wasted, black out drunk, blotto. Noah passes out naked.

Something that doesn’t make sense to me, and I’m realizing there’s not a lot of explanations in the bible, is that he gets drunk and his son, Ham, finds him passed out naked. He goes and gets his brothers, Shem and Japheth to cover their daddy up, and they tell Ham not to look at their dad, just cover him up. The next morning Noah curses out Ham, he’s like “Ham, you’re a little b****, you embarrassed me, so I’m going to curse you and all your descendants forever,” and his descendants are the Canaanites. Like… classic case of projection. Noah needs to go to therapy. Cursing your son because you got drunk and passed out naked??? Tale as old as time.

Quickly, they talk about circumcision, it needs to be on the eighth day, after the child is born or whatever. I don’t get why this is an agreement between man and God? Why is this significant to the relationship? Male genital mutilation? We should have left this behind. It’s archaic and I can’t believe it’s still a common practice. I get it, but it doesn’t make a lick of sense.

Something hilarious that God does is just change peoples names. So now we have Abraham and Sarah, but originally their names were Abram and Sarai, and God just comes in and is like “I actually don’t like your names, your names are Abraham and Sarah now, I’m changing them and I hope you learn to live with it.”

Then God goes to Abraham and Sarah and says “you need to have a kid!! I know you guys are old but I need you to have a kid right now.” Sarah even laughs at him, she’s like “God I’m truly a bag of bones, I can’t breastfeed!” She was truly 90 years old. Won’t he do it, they had Isaac.

Now we kind of diverge to another story I don’t understand, which is that similar to Noah’s ark, there’s a town full of evil people, blah blah blah, God wants to kill them all but he saves this guy Lot. Lot and his family go to a mountain, and both of his daughter are like “We need to preserve our lineage, so we’re going to get our dad really drunk, and we’re gonna ‘lay’ with him.” So, two nights in a row, they sleep with their dad and get pregnant with his children, and then we just don’t even follow that story? Maybe we’ll come back to it, there’s still time, but no resolution on that weird episode for now. I don’t understand though, God didn’t come to them and tell them to do that? I don’t get it?

I can’t believe people love this book. New York Times Bestseller! The critics rave!

My favorite thing so far: Abraham goes into a new town and is thinking genuinely “Sarah is so hot that people are going to kill me if they think she’s my wife so they can get with her.” Sarah was original baddie down. God goes to Abraham and says “Dude, you can not keep telling people that Sarah is your sister. They keep trying to sleep with her, and I’m going to have to smite them because they’re trying to lay with another man’s wife. Please stop saying that.”

Abraham lowkey checks God and responds “Well actually, she is my sister. She’s my half-sister. So while she’s my wife, she’s also my sister, so I didn’t lie.” and God says “Touché, real. Just stop saying it, please.”

Even weirder, Abraham and Sarah’s son, Isaac, ends up marrying this girl named Rebekah, and it’s the same thing. Isaac goes into a town and tells everyone Rebekah is his sister, and even the guy who he tells is like “She’s obviously not your sister… you are not acting like brother and sister…” I don’t know why that was a common thing back then.

I can’t get into the whole Abraham sacrificing Isaac thing, but I’m like, are we in the mob? God is acting about loyalty like Teresa Guidice. I don’t understand why he’s putting people through these tests to prove how loyal they are. Very weird behavior, very jealous.

But I guess he is a jealous God, they say.

part two

We start off with Isaac giving a blessing. He’s on his deathbed and he wants to give a blessing to two of his sons, Jacob and Esau, and his two sons get into some trickery and games about the whole blessing. Isaac is nearly blind as a bat at this point, so Jacob skins an animal and wears his fur because Esau is super hairy to trick his dad into thinking it’s him. But then he has to run away because his brother’s going to be so mad at him for stealing the one blessing, I guess, that his father has to give out. Also his mom encouraged him to steal the blessing from his brother.

While he’s on the run, Jacob finds this girl Rachel in a field and he’s totally smitten with her. He’s going on and on “Rachel is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, I will do everything that I need to do to have her as my wife.” He finds Rachel’s dad, who he knows is his mom’s brother, so Rachel is his literally his cousin, but I guess this was totally normal back then. He finds his uncle and is asking “What do I have to do to make her mine?” And his uncle responds “Um, you could work for me for seven years,” So Jacob works for her for seven years… you just do not see that kind of commitment today…

After Jacob works for the entire seven years, his uncle says “Actually, I’m gonna give you Leah, my oldest daughter, because I can’t really give away my youngest daughter first, like, that would be messed up.” But Jacob is dead set on Rachel, he will not give her up, he’s down bad, so he asks the dad again what he needs to do. The dad is causal and says totally normally, “Ok, just work for seven more years.” Jacob does it. Jacob works for seven more years to get Rachel, like, imagine. It’s like that saying, if a man wants to get you a glass of water, he will swim through shark-infested waters. If he wants to, he will vibes, and so then Jacob has Leah and Rachel as both of his wives.

God can tell that Jacob loves Rachel more so he makes Rachel barren and he gives Leah four sons, which makes Rachel insanely jealous and they basically get into this like childbearing-off. Rachel’s like, okay, Jacob, can go handmaiden style on my servant, and he has two kids with her and then Leah doesn’t want to get left behind so she’s like, okay I’ll raise you one, you can go handmaiden style on my servant and they have two kids. Leah has more sons and daughters on her own, and by this time Leah has six sons and a daughter and then there’s four sons with the servants. God gets a little guilty about the whole things and is starting to feel bad for Rebecca, so he’s like, okay, you can have one. Thus, Joseph was born.

Jacob’s only daughter, Dinah, is sexually assaulted and the guy that assaults her goes to the brothers and Jacob and pleads for her, he’s on his hands and knees begging, he’ll do anything to be with her, he just needs to know what they want him to do. So all of the brothers tell him “Well, you and everybody in your town can get circumcised? If you did that you could have her…” So they all go and get circumcised… When they come back the brothers go “Psych! Actually.” and they kill everybody and then Jacob immediately has whiplash and realizes this puts him in a bad position and now everyone is gonna be after them so they sort of have to keep moving along.

Then Rachel gets pregnant again, but she dies in childbirth, and that kid’s name is Benjamin, R.I.P. Rachel. And then, randomly, God changes Jacob’s name to Israel, but they use this interchangeably. It keeps going back and forth throughout the whole thing. Also, Jacob/Israel’s firstborn son, Reuben, hooks up with Rachel’s servant, which is his half-sibling’s mom, and Israel/Jacob finds out, and is kind of sussed by it, but doesn’t really do anything, so TBD, if that leads to drama later on, we don’t know.

I hate how much they’re using the word concubine. They just are using it all the time, and it’s gross and weird to me.

Jacob/Israel obviously loves Joseph more than everybody. I think that this is because it’s Rebecca’s kid, and Rebecca was his one true love. So he makes Joseph a fancy robe, but all the brothers are superrrr jealous of Joseph, and Joseph just wants to talk about his dreams to his brothers. Constantly. Every day, Joseph is, like, please let me tell you about my dreams, and his brothers are, like, get lost, like, we literally don’t care about your dreams. He’s begging, begging, begging them, and finally, his brothers say okay, you can tell us about your dreams.

So Joseph goes “Listen to this, it’s amazing. My dream… is that you guys all worship me, basically!” They’re all so over his shit, they’re like we literally dgaf about out, get over yourself! Freak! So then he comes back again, and he says he had another dream, and he goes “Ok, this one was like the last one, except in this dream the sun, the moon, and all the stars also worship me!” They are so sick of him.

Maybe a day later, they see him coming over the hill, and they’re like, we should just kill him. But they’re hustlers. So they’re like, you know what? He’s worth more to us alive than he is dead, and upon second thought, we’re going to make it look like we killed him, but we’re going to sell him. So they sell him to Egypt.

Then Joseph goes to Egypt and he basically makes a career as a dream interpreter. There’s a lot of hullabaloo, but essentially he becomes like the pharaoh’s dream interpreter. One day, he tells the pharaoh “Your dream means that there’s going to be seven years of really, really good harvest, and then there’s going to be seven years of famine. I think we should backstock a bunch of food and crops for when the famine comes.” Eventually the famine does come and it’s worldwide. His brothers are off with Jacob/Israel and they’re starving, so they make the journey to Egypt because everyone knows Egypts got it on lock. Coincidentally, they go to Joseph and ask him for food. His brothers don’t know that it’s him, but he knows that it’s his brothers. So he’s like, actually, you guys are all my ops. I think you guys are all spies, and I’m going to throw you in jail right now. They’re saying “We promise, we swear to God, we’re not spies.” And then Joseph turns away and he cries a little bit, and then he comes back and he’s says “I’m going to let you go because I know that you have a younger brother, Benjamin, and he’s not here. So you’re going to go get him.” The brothers go back to get Benjamin, and Jacob/Israel has a really hard time giving up Benjamin because he loves Benjamin the most. Since he thinks Joseph is dead, he replaced him with Benjamin as the favorite because that’s his only other kid with Rebecca. Once the brothers bring Benjamin, Joseph gets really excited and decides to throw them a big dinner, but in the middle of the dinner he keeps running off to go cry?

After dinner, he sends them back on their way back to Jacob/Israel. But what they don’t know is that Jospeh is setting them up and had his servants put a silver cup and Benjamin’s bag. So they’re at the border going through customs and CBP is like “um what the hell is this?” and they pull the silver cup out of Benjamin’s bag. All the brothers come back, and they’re like, “We are so sorry, like, we’re so remorseful, this should have never happened.” Joseph immediately forgives them since they apologized and he’s like, “Alright, the jig is up. It’s me, bitches, it’s Joseph. I totally could have thrown you in jail for this, and I would say you’re at my mercy, but actually it’s all okay. I’m gonna be the bigger person and let bygones be bygones, and we can just leave it in the past. But I do want you to bring Dad.”

The band of brothers goes back to get Jacob/Israel, and he lives there for a while. On his deathbed, Jacob/Israel wants to bless Joseph’s sons, and he says he’s only gonna bless the younger son, which is the same vibe as him. And then he’s talking to all of his sons, and he’s like, okay, the first three of you, like, you guys suck. You are horrible. The rest of you, you’re pretty good, and I hope everything works out. And then he dies, and then that’s the end of Genesis.

I have to work up the energy for socialization. Over time, I’ve realized what a true introvert I am, and sometimes I wish I wasn’t that way, but what can I do? I lived it up in my teens and early 20’s, and covid happened the same year my frontal lobe fully developed, so I’m high key tired and too aware of all the potential threats outside of my house (shootings, illness, fire hazards, expensive, tiring). I’d much rather stay cozy, stay safe, and save money in the confines of my home, especially when I have to prepare my body, mind, and soul for a debaucherous week with my girls.

My first step of preparation: a genuinely effective facial at Ole Henriksen Face/Body Spa. I’m a long-time fan of Ole Henriksen products, and a disciple of their Banana Bright daytime moisturizer (although I do often sub it with Andalou Vitamin C Renewal Cream for a more responsible price point) so I was excited to try a full service from the brand. Other than my hometown esthetician (see above, far right) and my fancy esthetician (Caela Esthetics, most expensive but very worth it) I’ve never seen such immediate and lasting visible results from a facial. I simply received the traditional OH facial, and still see even color and texture five days later. Highly recommend and I will be back bi-monthly, you can bet on that.

Next step of preparation: Set up my backyard for after dinner drinks, including my brand new portable generator to support more outdoor activities, beyond my immediate impulse of becoming a full-on prepper. I’m hesitant to invest too much more in my yard, I don’t own this house and I’m not planning on being here for more than a few years, but for now, I need her functional and at least cute.

Final step: rest, recharge, and take care of my body. On New Years Day, my family and I created vision boards, which I hung up in front of our Peleton / work out area at home.

Once you turn 30, your body really does change, it’s not just the older people in your life being dramatic. I refuse to complain about any aches, and surely one weekly arms and shoulders strength training will cure my newfound pains. The inspo board is so very cheugy, but simultaneously so very effective. Listening to my girl Tunde, while reading a magazine cut-out that says “Mood: $CEO,000,000”… like what could be better? I want to be smooth-brained.

I also set up my new reading nook, and there’s nothing more for me to share except that it’s freaking cute. I’m on the fence about this chair, it feels a little too cool-girl-instagram-living-room-2021, but it’s what Jordan wanted, and it’s comfortable, so why the hell not. My cats love it, too.

content of the week

Of course, I practically devoured Bloom Town: Exodus by Ally North in one sitting, but had to pace myself to savor the story. The sequel, and final book in this series is far less steamy than the first, but the journey of these star-crossed lovers is well excavated, and the protagonists qualms with the organized religion she was raised in are fully resolved. In one confrontation, Abigail says “I saved myself with my own hands—not because I’m strong, not because I believe, but because I wanted to live.” Whew, that’s a word!!! As a survivor of many things among many women who are survivors of many things, this hit me right in the heart. You only live because you want to live. You’re the boss, so make it happen. I historically read exclusively serious books, so it’s been fun to let my hair down and blow through something a little silly and fun. Please let me know your recommendation for other silly and fun reads!

Otherwise, this week was TV heavy. I watched the season premiere of The Traitors, which is casting regular degular people for next season, and I may apply. I want in on the action. But there’s nothing I want more than Michael Rapaport off my goddamn screen. Thank God we have footage of Kenya Moore gracefully gathering him up as a temporary salve, and I’m saying nightly prayers that he’s cast out of the round table, if only for being the most annoying man alive.

Also, the season premiere of The Pitt, which like… I’m really going to need all writers to just pay a bit more attention to what they’re writing. First, I had the Train/Utah slip up with Ms. North last week, and this week on The Pitt the opening shot is Noah Wyle, ER doctor, riding his motorcycle… with no helmet… over a bridge… crossing the double lined lanes… to pass an ambulance? I really need us to get real. I texted my cousin (nurse) and her wife (nurse) to ask what percentage of ER doctors they think would ride a motorcycle without a helmet. They said 0% and 20%. Time will tell if The Pitt writers ever explain this, maybe he’s a sick adrenaline junkie and they’ll tie it in later, I’ll maintain hope, but for now I guess I have to suspend my disbelief for all content I consume.

Lastly, I started Members Only: Palm Beach, but it immediately became clear that it would require my undivided, dedicated attention. All of these women look absolutely insane, and I can’t wait to break down my takes on their twisted psyches, sicknesses, and what plastic surgery they’ve overindulged in.

a sign of the times

I would be remiss to not mention the turbulent political climate, and this week the heat on the boiler plate has been turned up a few notches, with ICE gunning down a white woman on the streets of Minneapolis. I’ll have a separate post with reflections on that, the history of political violence in the United States, and where I’ll be exerting my efforts.

In the meantime, I donated to KCUR, Kansas City’s local NPR station, and Unbound Library, a mobile, donation-based lending library offering free access to diverse and inspiring books in South Dallas. Whether you choose these, or another cause closer to your heart, I encourage you to share your coin with people you see working to make the world a better place. We can’t unravel the whole quilt without everyone pulling their thread, so pull your thread.

Speaking of South Dallas and political turbulence, last week Matt Rogers of Las Culturistas went on an unprompted rant about the uselessness of Jasmine Crockett’s campaign for Senate, advising listeners, “don’t waste your money.” Understandably, this caused major backlash on the internet, which prompted Rogers and his cohost, Bowen Yang, to both issue Instagram Story Apologies. Even while listening in the shower, I wasn’t sure the actual usefulness or Rogers making this statement, and thought surely this is something that someone, somewhere, would have flagged in post-production to edit out? While I can understand the sentiment of viability in electoral races and coalescing around the most likely candidate, Yang and Rogers themselves had literally just expressed remorse for being huge Hillary supporters circa 2016, and wished in retrospect that they got on board with Big Bernie. Their failure to connect that to present day is jarring, especially considering the fresh and enduring pain of Kamala’s loss. When will white men learn to think, like really think? Seemingly never. How much longer does everyone expect Black women to keep showing up? Seemingly forever, regardless of treatment. This also prompted reflection on one of my more embarrassing anecdotes, which is that I flew to Dallas to work for a candidate opposing Crockett during her campaign in 2022. To think, we may have never had “bleach blonde, bad built, butch body” if only I canvassed a little harder (jk, the candidate I campaigned for only got like 1,800 votes, like, what the hell do I know about Texas).

Two last things, file it under the financial corner (should I make a financial corner?)

Jordan and I met with our wedding photographer this week. Who knew I needed to create a Pinterest board for a courthouse wedding? Don’t you just go to the courthouse, isn’t that kind of the whole point? As our wedding day draws nearer, the enduring question is “How’s wedding planning going?” to which we both consistently reply “Fine.” Surprisingly, it feels like there’s an expectation that you’re going to be miserable preparing for this day. As if something I’m optionally doing could stress me out. I don’t get the culture of hating planning for your wedding but then again, I’m a planner.

Anyways, the photographer offered a payment plan and I asked if she offered any discounts for payment in full. She said no, but did offer us an additional hour and an additional roll of film for up front payment, which really equates to about a 30% discount. OK TEA, much better than I even thought! Closed mouths don’t get discounts—this is your reminder to ask!!

And lastly lastly lastly, I dumped more money into the S&P 500 right before it hit record highs, LFG. I’m diversifying my personal portfolio into more international index funds, like:

• Fidelity Total International Index Fund (FTIHX),

• Fidelity Japan Fund (FJPNX),

• Franklin FTSE United Kingdom ETF (FLGB),

• S&P/TSX 60,

• Mexico Index IPC (MXX),

• and FTSE 100 Index (FTSE).

There’s a wealth of great international index funds you can invest in if you’re feeling shaky about the US economic landscape right now, but no signs point to slowing down, as much as everyone wants there to be an AI bubble. Frankly, the strategy of the stock market is no better than FanDuel if you ask me, but it’s a more reliable regular return. Luckily, they haven’t introduced a way to parlay Nvidia earnings calls with Microsoft layoffs but I wouldn’t rule it out. They allow options trading which is pretty close.

I’ll be back next week with reflections on the culture I consumed with my girls in town, given that my hangover recedes no more than 24 hours post their departure. LYLAS <3

The last month of 2025 I read more than usual, and am binding myself to the promise that I will continue this in the new year. Growing up, as much time as my family spent watching television, we spent reading, and I hold both mediums of equal value.

I noticed over the last few years it seems I blink my eyes and my days are gone, but my to-do list extends itself effortlessly on and on. Will my life always be the next thing I need take care of? I started December exasperated, looking ahead like my life was going to continue to pass me by and I was left choiceless, “ok, so January I have friends in town, February I’ll need to set aside time to catch up with my friends who live here, March is my birthday, during this whole time I’ll need to keep planning my wedding and finishing up my degree. Then I’ll graduate school in June and get married then, too. July and August I’ll have to prepare for my honeymoon in…” until I’m clear into 2028.

I’m an incessant planner. Even on the days I want to rest, I can’t help but come up with a project for myself. I honestly thank god for it—a byproduct of growing up an only child—it means I’m never lonely and always entertained. One time, Jordan said out of the blue she wished she knew more about the Vietnam war, and lucky for her, I already had a power point presentation made about the history of Vietnam and the American war. There is always something to research, design, plan, write. Some days it feels like I can’t hold on to time, I’m always looking at the next thing. Not in a longing way, in genuine excitement.

I’ve decided to hold on to time a little tighter. To avoid my phone a bit more, especially tik tok, and to write and read and work with my hands and look at people in the real world. And to share things I can’t help but plan, like a power point presentation on the history of Vietnam on a Sunday afternoon. So here begins my substack. And guess what. I know choiceless isn’t a word. But when you make your own substack that’s the kind of thing you can do. It’s encouraged even, to just make stuff up on the internet.

content of the week

Mid-December I finished The Three Lives of Cate Kay by Kate Fagan, a boring frilly book about a closeted lesbian who unclosets herself in her lesbianism, but re-closets herself in the real world. She thinks she killed her best friend in an accident but actually didn’t but she doesn’t know the best friend is still alive, so she goes into hiding but becomes a world famous author and so on and so forth. Another character is an A+ list actress from Lawrence, KS, who wears a Jayhawks hat everywhere because “no one looks for who is under a Jayhawks hat” (not an exact quote, actually, but along those lines) and sorry, but if paparazzi knew an A+ list celeb was always wearing a Jayhawks hat because they were from Lawrence, people would definitely notice. I’ve lived in LA for 9+ years and I’ve never seen a single Jayhawks hat. Like, enough! If you’re worried I spoiled this for you, don’t worry about it because you shouldn’t read it.

I ordered Atmosphere by Taylor Jenkins Reid in haste after that, and then didn’t even open it. So wait patiently for that review. I simultaneously ordered my first pair of UGG boots, high school me would be rolling in her proverbial grave. The older I get the more basic I become, and I wonder how much easier my life would have been if I just acquiesced to being the type of girl who wore UGGs in high school, instead of like, going to parties with 25-year-olds drinking lean. More on that later.

My mom came into town and we went to the Grove, of course. I think it’s normal in LA to love the Grove and the Americana, and to strongly dislike Rick Caruso, which causes some internal dissonance. I like the Grove, but I don’t want every where to look like that… or do I? The Grove is kind of like the collective in Pluribus. The uniformity and cleanliness is lovely in theory but in practice washes away every diversification of thought, the clashes that make the world interesting and worth knowing. Anyways, my mom bought me 1929 by Andrew Ross Sorkin, which I am traipsing through and loving. I’m going to follow this with his previous book, Too Big To Fail, about the 2008 financial crisis. Here’s the thing: it’s all because of credit. General Motors first began offering cars on credit (yay auto-loans) in 1919, and the credit industry expanded until it touched everywhere the eye could see. The stock market wanted in, and started selling shares “on margin.” This means you could buy a $100 share for $10, and have $90 out on a loan. They didn’t care who was buying these margins, their assets and property didn’t matter, all that mattered was inflating the share price. You can still buy shares on margin, but now there are more regulations in place, like having the money in your brokerage account to cover drops, known as a “margin call.”

I’m scared to say too much too soon, but from what I’ve read it was all smoke and mirrors, a house of cards, every metaphorical way to say everything is fake and held up by people who pretend it’s important. Here’s a snippet:

“The most audacious of the firm’s partnerships was with the Van Sweringen brothers of Cleveland, reclusive, oddball bachelors named Oris and Mantis, who shared a bedroom at their sprawling country estate. For all their quirks, the Van Sweringens were fearless dealmakers, taking on gigantic loans to build the beautiful Shaker Heights suburb, as well as the commuter rail that linked it to the city, and assembling a portfolio of railroad lines. With the aid of Morgan partners, the Van Sweringens consolidated their assets under a $3 billion holding company called Alleghany Corporation, a complex teeter-tottering empire of bonds and preferred shares.
What the Van Sweringens had built in Alleghany was less an exception than a preview of the latest Wall Street craze: the investment trust. By the mid-1920s, promoters had discovered that the magic of leverage could be packaged and repackaged. A trust would raise money from the public, buy a basket of stocks and bonds, and finance itself with new layers of preferred shares and debt. Then a new trust might be launched to buy shares of the first—piling still more leverage atop what was already there. On the surface it looked like diversification; in reality it was leverage amplified. To ordinary investors it seemed a safe way to let professionals manage their money, but the real draw was the names behind them-Morgan, Goldman, and the other grandees of finance. Investors weren’t buying companies so much as they were buying reputations.”

I also licked the plate clean with Bloom Town: Genesis by Ally North. We got off on the wrong foot. The opening scene is the protagonist on a train in 1852 in Utah. Pause. I know that there were not trains in 1852 Utah. Like do I maybe have a touch of autism or something? Because the only reason I know this is from a mid-day Vietnam-like spiral into the 19th century train industry, the titans, and their descendants whereabouts today. Basically these bitches took complete advantage of East Asian immigrants and government subsidies to build these trains, didn’t give a fuck about safety (thank you OSHA, b. 1971) so a tonnnnn of people died, and now all of their children’s children’s children are “philanthropists.” I could do a full Charlie Day string board investigation on the freaking train titans. I did end up buying stock in Union Pacific after that. My holdings have only gone up 1.54% since I bought it in 2023, but now I get the immense privilege of voting in their annual shareholder meetings. What a thrill. The Utah train oversight caused me to take the book a little less seriously which allowed me fly through it, but I also wanted to see who edited this thing, and color me surprised—it’s self-published. I literally love that and forgave Ms. North for not knowing about trains in 1852 Utah, she did this whole damn thing herself. The book is easy and fun and sexy steamy lesbians in the wild West, providing resonate reflections about misogyny, religion, oppression, and the ways our identities are rewritten and erased by white guys claiming Manifest Destiny. Don’t get me started on Manifest Destiny. I already ordered the sequel, Bloom Town: Exodus.

Which leads me to the most requested and least interesting book I’m navigating now: The Bible by God. I just need some time. Kings is boring. I’ll get back to it I promise. But I’ve been rewatching The Real Housewives of New Jersey, which is definitely scratching the itch for a narcissistic main character who is constantly setting up the people he/she/they “love love love” the most for failure so they have an excuse to punish them! In my first tik tok about the bible I said God was giving me Teresa Guidice vibes and I can say with absolute certainty now, I was confirmed.

I’ll get to doing this weekly, bi-weekly? I promise to be more consistent than tik tok. I love learning and talking and sharing, but I’m simply not a performer. I never was. LYLAS <3