1. This. Does this Jon Benet and the Chocolate Factory cover need any further explanation? What was Random House’s approval process on this new release of an iconic children’s classic? I betcha there wasn’t one mom or dad with a young kid on the creative team for this one. Unless Patsy Ramesy was somehow involved.
2. That a spectrum of truly horrific things happens on the regular to so many kids, and the cycle perpetuates itself through the generations. However, I am slightly at peace, knowing that Lindy West has begun to hold space for their stories with the I Believe You / It’s Not Your Fault Tumblr. (I contributed one too.) I don’t know if all the right people will see this. But I hope to high holy hell that a young girl will be able to see what’s coming and dodge it; that a dad will use this as a conversation starter for one of the hardest conversations he will ever have with a child; and that someone feels like she is not alone with a secret that shames her to her core. Because she is not.
3. This ass-hattery from Nine West. I cannot. Cannot. Even. Cannot.
4. This geniusness by Mallory Ortberg in The Toast. It’s sad but true, there is still just as much mansplaining going on now as there was through the ages. In related news, today at a meeting, upon being interrupted by a man who had JUST GONE ON TALKING TOO LONG, I had to press my palm on the table, look him in the eye and say, “I’m not finished,” and stare him down until he STFU. I don’t know why it’s taken me this long in my professional life to do this, but damn, it felt good.
Want more? Running like a ticker in my brain, there’s the Ukraine situation. Gaza. The kidnapped Nigerian schoolgirls that have fallen off the media radar. Deep and bad issues in my family I don’t know how to fix, that make me ill and feeling punched in the face whenever I try to address them. That there are different razors for men and women and NO ENVIRONMENTALLY SUSTAINABLE OR INEXPENSIVE SOLUTION for shaving your legs that I can find.
That I am tired. All the time. I want to scream at the top of my lungs but it wouldn’t matter, nothing would change, my good-hearted neighbors would worry. Plus, I am too tired, did I mention that?