Someone get on it
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Starting is arguably the hardest part of anything, especially writing, where the beginning has to hook and promise and reveal enough ankle. Sometimes the Muppets might even show up.
I was going to start this Month in Review talking about how the cicadas are mercifully almost gone. (Just in time, too, because one flew into my face and then I had to consider taking a flamethrowing to my own puss.) Then I was going to wax not-exactly-poetic about the stench of them rotting by the trillions. If you want more information, check this out. However, if you want to avoid yet another closeup photo of the critters, the big take-away is “As microbes break down and digest the cicada carcasses, ammonia and volatile organic compounds are released…Ammonia has a strong odor, as do some VOCs containing nitrogen and phosphorus — which the bodies of periodical cicadas are rich in.”
There were a lot of places in that quote where I wanted to set fire to my face again.
The whole cicadapocalypse/decomposition was going to be some sort of averagely-expressed metaphor about June.
But it just made me want to open a window, and that’s tricky these days.
Since I was clearly on an off-gassing thematic thread, I considered opening with commentary about politics and world affairs. Each try degenerated into either something like a subtweet or a pitch for some sort of Toxic Positivity MLM.
That ain’t me, kid.
Not that I don’t believe in ripping myself open and spilling all the blood/tea, but “think good thoughts” isn’t my brand. I’m not unrelievedly sweet nor optimistic. I’m hilarious and cynical and misanthropic and ALSO a little optimistic. That’s hard to capture.
(Also, I still write “80085” on my calculator and think it’s hilarious high art.)
(Also, I have a calculator.)
(Also, are we still using “subtweeting”? I’d ask my kids but they are still mad at me for randomly throwing “skibidi toilet” into some otherwise Quality Parenting Moments.™)
But yesterday on my social media, I wrote “I wish you all the wonderful communities of weirdos you need. If you lack one (or enough), I will enthusiastically be a charter member of yours.”
So that is also how I choose to start this wrap-up of June and the second half of the year. I will be here in a completely official capacity as part of your Weirdo Community. We don’t take a lot of selfies and there is always pastry.
Ooh, look: Weirdo! Muppet!

(i.e. things I enjoyed that you may also enjoy or possibly not if you are feeling contrarian and cross.)


So I might not find the right way to start these months in review, but ending in cake is always the way. As Vincent said in the above link, my mind is driven towards these things with an irresistible momentum.
So, tell me about your favorite library. Or your favorite cake. Or your favorite weirdo community.

Greetings, fellow snarklings.
Does “I was tired” count as a review? Probably not, but it does explain why my recommendations this month are as thin as a caffeine-free latte and mostly limited to “Get some sleep.”
Normally I feel a small weird panic if these reviews don’t magically appear* within 48 hours of the month ending. As if reflections have a cosmic expiration date. As though if they’re not served fresh, they’re compost. Four or five days into the month feels like the Ides of June (not these guys), which means it’s practically autumn, and wait, am I writing this from the future, circa 2027?
*as if I don’t have to write them
How we’ve conditioned ourselves to immediacy. Time is an unforgiving overlord. Here you go, Time, take the wheel. Knock yourself out.
This is all just to say that it feels like we’re functioning in the interstices May grudgingly doles out.
Let’s get into it, even if I’m a few days late. Maybe time is a poet, sweetening like a fine wine, sharpening like a cheddar, chunking up like old milk.
(Time may be a poet. I am not. Unless you want a poem about old milk.)
Anyway, here we are, tardy but with all the juicy details:
This time of year is a cocktail of achievement, exploration, wrapping up, recognition, and proving oneself. It’s a whirlwind of scope, sequence, pace, and sugar highs. When your whole family feels burned out by May 2nd, you know it’s going to be a long month. The world was like an angry blender — whirring and sharp and loud. AP tests, finals, placements, end-of-year celebrations, countdowns, more tests, competitions, nationals, baseball, track meets, concerts, performances, meetings, and good grief! It was a family endurance test, and my role was mostly snack duty and stress management.
Note: “You’ve got this” is less appreciated when accompanied by an inadvertent spray of half-chewed Ritz crackers.
This seems an appropriate time to give a hearty HALLOO and THANK YOU to all the adults in the kids’ lives who guided them to this particular finish line. You are excellent and I hope you can spend the next few months living in something other than 42-minute stretches.
Looking forward to a moment’s respite before the summer fully grabs us for a good do-si-do…oh wait, no. Just got an email with the subject line “Are We Doomed?” Better return my tray to the upright position.
(i.e. things I enjoyed that you may also enjoy or possibly not if you are feeling contrarian and cross.)

I already know the type who wears these:

(It’s me! Ask me about my neuroma!)
Klappe zu, Affe tot, May. I’m off to look for some rhubarb to start on one of these:
