The burnout gateway to cosy content
It’s come to my attention that I’m burnt out, which is not a clinical diagnosis. If I went to a medical professional I’d probably be told I have mild depression and slightly less mild anxiety as a result of acute stress from my life choices. Also, the world is falling apart and everything is terrible and humanity is a disease. I’m not planning to go to a medical professional, though, because I’ve been here before and I know how to get out of it. Plus I’m foolhardy. In fact, I’m everything I accuse my parents of being. Or worse.
Meet toxic masculinity’s final boss: Ilya Rozanov from Heated Rivalry
Although I was pretty offline (for me) in December and January, the rising clamour of Heated Rivalry mania still reached me.
“Have you heard about the gay hockey romance?” My husband asked. I hadn’t, but next time I scrolled TikTok the algorithm fed me a 42yo Australian mother of 3 who’d just got her second Heated Rivalry-inspired tattoo and I knew I’d be watching it.
Imagined, experienced, remembered? A trio of selves digest Stranger Things
I finished Stranger Things a few weeks ago and my first thought was: it’s no Succession. Ending a beloved series that’s been running for almost a decade can’t be easy, proven by the fact very few have done it successfully. In one review I read, the Stranger Things finale was applauded for playing it ‘straight down the middle.’ Not a dumpster fire like Game of Thrones, not a masterpiece like Schitt’s Creek. It was fine.
10-1: 40 things* I’ve loved in 40 years
We’ve made it. It’s taken me 3 days to write this because it’s December and I’m forty and I’m so. tired.
20-11: 40 things* I’ve loved in 40 years
I’m finding this listicle marathon to be quite a cathartic experience. It’s actually a really nice way to reflect on your life. Highly recommend. Anyway, shit’s getting real now. We’re down to my foundations.
30-21: 40 things* I’ve loved in 40 years
I’m back for night two of this trip down a nostalgic and oft traumatic memory lane. Let’s hit it.
40-31: 40 things* I’ve loved in 40 years
I’ve been trying to narrow down the 40 things* I’ve loved in my 40 years of life. The best way to define “things” in the context of this listicle is: cultural artefacts - books, films, music, TV shows. I had a few games in there initially but they dropped off after I had an epiphany that games consume me, they don’t nourish me. What I wanted from this list was cultural artefacts that have given me comfort, escape, hope, joy, a sense of belonging, a thread of connection with other human beings and/or the world.
Not a fangirl, a flowseeker: a unified theory of the fandom-prone personality
Years and years ago, I went to an incredible talk by a woman named Sacha Judd called “what you love matters”. It really struck a chord with me, so much so that I still vividly remember parts of it 8 years later. You can read her full explanation of the talk here, but the gist is: people (predominantly young women) who participate in online fandoms have incredible creative and technical skills that the tech industry overlooks because they’ve been honed in service of something socially embarrassing. Think: One Direction, The Lord of the Rings, or My Little Pony.
From Huntr/x to Leelou Dallas Multi-Pass: ass-kicking heroines and emotional context coupling
The first time I heard Golden and Soda Pop, the two global smash hits from the equally massive Netflix film, K-pop Demon Hunters, was before I’d watched the movie. I saw them climbing the charts. I knew the movie was on Netflix. I had a listen because I’m always curious about unexpected global popularity. The songs didn’t hit for me on first listen. I could tell they were good pop songs, but they felt too much like eating candy floss as pop sometimes does. Then my favourite Formula 1 podcaster posted that it was “the best movie ever,” on his Instagram story…
Every day a new page: on motherhood and Schitt’s Creek
I’m a bit clingy. That’s all it is. I scrabble and clutch at good feelings as they depart. That’s why I filled booklets with Backstreet Boys posters as a teen and saw The Fellowship of the Ring twelve times at the cinema. I guess my mum didn’t see love in these behaviours but something more embarrassing. Perhaps it wasn’t my obsessive personality she was worried about so much as my questionable taste. Regardless, the truth is that to me, there is nothing more thrilling than being a fan. That’s why I kept a plastic Burger King figurine of Legolas on my bedside table for years. See also: Orlando Bloom.