But what Klein is saying is that there’s no escape. I can move, sure. I can even go so far as to get dual citizenship and move to Portugal, if things get too bad, but as long as I live on planet Earth, there will always be people I’ll vehemently disagree with, and I’ll have to live with them wherever I go, like it or not.
Category: 2025
I Don’t Want To Write About Charlie Kirk
His hubris was that he didn’t think it would happen to him. He wasn’t supposed to be the target. He was supposed to be the gun. Guys like him: white, young, politically up-and-coming with security details, even, aren’t supposed to get hit. We reserve that for a classroom of third graders.
Finding Comfort in Seasonal Changes: An Ayurvedic Approach
It’s because I’m a Vata and I go out of balance in the winter, but now I know how to prep so I don’t get sick or itch or eat all the cookies. I now operate like an enlightened squirrel stowing away oil, and soup, and socks, so I can ride out the winter without the icks.
Inspired By In August 2025
Thinking About I spend the mornings reading now. I used to spend them writing, and sometimes scrolling—a bad habit I finally fixed by installing Downtime*, which restricts my screen time. I finished The Master last night. It’s a fictional biography of Henry James, and I loved it. Now I want to re-read James’s A Portrait … Continue reading Inspired By In August 2025
Procrasti-bread
I’m afraid of failing at bread. It’s the yeast, and the kneading, and the rising, and the proofing, and god only knows all what else. It’s a lot.
Confronting Ultra-Processed Foods: My Journey
No wonder everyone is fat. No wonder everyone is sick. Our food is nothing but chemicals, shaped like food. And it’s screwing with our microbiomes and our gene expressions, and our mental health, and the freaking climate.
The Art of the Stealth Project: How I Keep My Secrets
I needed a plan. And I realized this with a pain and a sadness and the most loneliness I had ever felt before, that no one was going to help me
Inspired By In July 2025
July always feels like the Saturday of summer, and August the Sunday night. Tomorrow’s August 1st, and I can already feel that creeping Sunday-night energy. But for now? I’m leaning into it: bike rides, boogie boarding, beach reads, family dinners. Sun-drunk and salty.
Zapped: My Love Affair with Bad Dopamine
I ran out of day again. Not because I was doing anything important—but because I got zapped. By Instagram. By dopamine. By the endless scroll that trades real life for tiny, tasty hits of nothing.
Who Is Your Designated Sane Person?
I serve as the Designated Sane Person for a few people in my life, and it gives me the warm-fuzzies to know this. It’s an honor, really, and I love it that I’ve become their sane harbor in the storm. Here’s how I’ve grown into this role over time.
Inspiration Location 