If Froley Was In A Movie

If Froley, my pet cockatiel, was a character in a movie or TV show, he’d have to be a strange mix of roles.

He’s like Carl Fredricksen from Up. He’s got the ornery soul of an old man who needs to learn to love other people aside from his significant other.

He’s like Drogon from Game of Thrones. He’s got the heart and fire of a massive dragon even though someone could accidentally sit on him.

He’s like Sonny Corleone from The Godfather. He’s a hotheaded, territorial bird who occasionally flies himself into trouble.

He’s like Raymond Babbitt from Rain Man. He’s got a touch of bird OCD; he doesn’t like it when things are out of order or patterns are not adhered to.

He’s like Pikachu from Pokemon. He’s got those little red cheek things. Come on.

He’s like Dufayel from Amelie. He likes to stare out the window at the lives of our neighborhood birds.

He’s like Romeo from Romeo and Juliet. He has no real, healthy concept of time.

He’s like Michael Scott from The Office. You can’t have him alone unsupervised or else he’ll make a mess of things.

He’s like Baymax from Big Hero Six. When you see him, you immediately want to cuddle with him.

He’s like the Xenomorph from Alien. No matter where I go, he’ll always try to find me.

He’s like the T. Rex from Jurassic Park. He has very distinct-sounding footsteps.

He’s like Samwise Gamgee from The Lord of the Rings. His loyalty to his one person knows no bounds.

So you see, Froley is like so many characters, it’d be hard to have him be just one.

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Life Update #7: The Rise of Hardcore Henry III

Avid readers of my blog (it’s getting slightly easier to say that word out loud) will know who Hardcore Henry was. (Or maybe they won’t, because it’s been a while since I’ve talked about him that one time.) I mentioned him in one of my previous Life Updates. (Which you can read for yourself right here!)

For those of you just stopping by, Hardcore Henry was the daddy long-legs that lived by my bookshelf. He got killed (semi-long story) and was soon replaced by a newcomer daddy long-legs that I dubbed Hardcore Henry II.

I didn’t post about it, but Hardcore Henry II is gone too.

I don’t know if he perished in the cold and forgotten wastes behind my bookshelves or if he crawled himself to a new locale with better property value. All I know is that the hardcore spot between the wall and one of my bookshelves has been empty for months.

That is, it was until a few days ago.

A brand-new daddy long-legs, Hardcore Henry III, has taken up residence there, and this spider has an attitude. He’s not mean per se, but he’s kind of…moody.

He has a tendency to spring out from his lair if someone so much as breathes on his web.

This is as close as I can safely get to Hardcore Henry III.

You can see Hardcore Henry III as the little dot above my gargantuan schnozz.

I’ve got to admit, I’m not too fond of this guy. The other Hardcore Henrys webbed their way into my heart by being unobtrusive spiders that may have assisted in decreasing the fly and mosquito population near my desk. But Hardcore Henry III is a tough as nails, take no shit, spit in your eye, and growl kind of guy.

And, as my earlier Life Update specified, I’m a tad on the arachnophobic side.

I don’t know what to do with Hardcore Henry III.

I’ve already named him, so I can’t just squash him.

So you see those books in the picture above, the ones with backwards titles since I took the photo selfie-style?

Yeah, it’s gonna be a while before I pick those up again.

What’s the natural life span of a daddy long-legs?

Top 5 Hayao Miyazaki Films

You might not know who Hayao Miyazaki is, but I thought I’d write about my top five favorites of his movies.

That’s right, folks! It’s time for yet another Below Average list!

Hayao Miyazaki is the creator behind several wondrous animated films, each one brimming with detailed and immersive worlds and engaging characters. Miyazaki is a genius of the highest order. He knows how to tell one heck of a story.

The fact that his movies are animated might fool you into thinking they’re meant for kids, but you’d be dead wrong. The narrative appeals to people of all ages, dealing with morality and fantasy in equal measure.

Plus, all of his movies have insane replay value. Whether you’re looking for a movie to put on in the background while you do something else or a movie to intensely revisit in order to learn something new, Miyazaki’s films can satisfy both needs.

So, even if you’ve never seen a Hayao Miyazaki movie in your life or if you’ve seen them all multiple times, here are my top 5 favorite Hayao Miyazaki films!

5. Spirited Away

Spirited Away is the classic Hayao Miyazaki movie. It’s probably the one that most average moviegoers have heard of. It’s about a little girl named Chihiro whose parents turn into pigs due to an unfortunate case of the munchies. Chihiro then has to embark on a peril-infused journey through a fantastical ghost world in order to save herself and her parents. She makes a few friends along the way and learns about the strength she’s had inside the whole time. Spirited Away is a pretty vanilla story when you look at its bare bones, but the trappings surrounding the narrative are what make it so special. The ghost world is absolutely magical, and by “magical,” I do mean that magic is involved. I rewatch this movie about once a year. Feels new every time.

4. Ponyo

If my sister made a list about her favorite Hayao Miyazaki movies, Ponyo would be the number one for hers. She loves this movie so much, she actually stole my copy of it. Ponyo tells a version of the Little Mermaid story. A little girl falls in love with a little boy and abandons her watery home to live with him. It’s a very cute story, with a surprisingly laid-back atmosphere considering it’s about a phantasmic underwater world. It actually reminds me a lot of My Neighbor Totoro (another Miyazaki film that sadly did not make my top 5) because of how quaint and unique it makes the average character feel. Ponyo is the perfect rainy day movie. (Unless your sister then starts butchering the final song by only singing the word “Ponyo” over and over again.)

3. Castle in the Sky

Castle in the Sky is actually one of my favorites for reasons that are external from the movie itself. My mom bought me a DVD copy of the movie one day, completely out of the blue. She got it for me simply because she knew I liked Hayao Miyazaki movies, and she figured I didn’t have this one. The spontaneity of this act of love touched my heart so much that it made the movie hold a special place there. And funnily enough, this movie about a boy and girl who have to find a lost city in the sky is all about those random acts of kindness. Plus, it features Mark Hamill as the voice of the villain. You just can’t beat that.

2. Princess Mononoke

Okay, remember how I said Hayao Miyazaki makes animated movies that please both adults and children? Well…Princess Mononoke is a tad gruesome, so be wary when showing this PG-13 rated film to kids. But the story is truly epic! I love this movie so much! It deals with man’s destruction of nature, love, and integrity in the face of rising odds. The name of the movie initially put me off from watching it when I was younger because I thought it was going to be a weird “princess” movie. It’s not that at all. It’s an engrossing story, and what I like the most about it is how it has these two opposing perspectives and neither one of them are truly evil. It’s about compromising and realizing when you have to change and when you should hold to your ideals.

1. Howl’s Moving Castle

I’m a bit embarrassed that Howl’s Moving Castle is my number one Hayao Miyazaki movie because it is unabashedly a love story. But I like how unexpected a lot of it is. Sophie, the main character, is a quiet girl who meets the flamboyant wizard, Howl. As you might guess, they’re the romantic couple of the story. But get this: Sophie is cursed by a jealous witch at the beginning of the movie to be an old woman. This love story feels unconventional because it truly is about loving a person for what’s on the inside. I mean, say what you want about strong Disney princesses or whatever. You can’t deny that those chicks are gorgeous and that their looks are usually what garners them the attention of their romantic interests in the first place. Not so with Sophie. Her willpower, practicality, and dry sense of humor are what make her stand out from the other girls vying for Howl’s attention. Plus, Calcifer (voiced by Billy Crystal) is one of Hayao Miyazaki’s best side characters.

A Trip to Balboa Park

I’m normally a very solitary person, but when it comes to day trips, there is nothing better than traveling with friends.

Yesterday, Mia, Bubba, and I went to Balboa Park in San Diego. I had an absolutely fantastic time, and even though the museums and gardens were fun, the main reason for that is because my friends were with me. Together, we had a blast, a riot, and all those other words that mean a good time.

We woke up insanely early (Mia would call it an ungodly hour), even though most of the museums didn’t open until 10 am. We killed time at 6 in the morning at Mission Beach.

Since we don’t live close to the ocean (in fact we live in a veritable desert) Bubba and I took this opportunity to stride into the water. That early in the morning, the water was cold, but we didn’t care.

Well, we did, we froze our elbows off, but we pushed forward anyway.

Wincing and yelping with every frigid wave that hit us, the three of us collected shells to while away the time.

Afterwards, we changed into less wet clothes and stopped off at a place called Olive Tree Market before going to Balboa. That market makes the most amazing sandwiches I’ve ever had. I got this one called the Picasso. It’s this pesto chicken monstrosity that’s to die for.

Bubba and Mia let me take a picture to showcase the deliciousness of the sandwiches.

You know you have good friends when they let you take a pic of them in a pose mid-bite.

After those stomach-pleasing sandwiches, we drove on to Balboa Park.

As soon as we arrived, the most magical thing happened. Two friendly squirrels approached us.

Some people say I’m far too taken with little animals (you know who you are), but at that moment, I wasn’t paying attention to those people’s voices in my head. Those squirrels were begging to be AWWWWWWW-ed over.

The squirrels distracted us for a while, but the gardens and museums soon pulled us away.

For those of you who don’t know, Balboa Park is essentially a collection of museums and gardens in one location. There are a minimum of sixteen museums there. During our trip, we only visited five places.

The first stop on our journey was the Botanical Building. It’s a huge building comprised entirely of slats, allowing filtered sunlight to shine through the roof. Plants are everywhere, obviously, and the smell is fantastic. You’re in shade most of the time thanks to the lush foliage. Bubba, Mia, and I had fun ambling through the garden. We especially liked the Scratch-and-Sniff section, filled with small plants you can touch and smell. One of them smelled exactly like maple syrup.

After having our fill of chlorophyll, we made our way to the Museum of Natural History. We spent a huge amount of time there because we got so distracted by the exhibits. A lot of them were designed with kids in mind, and…well, that kind of catered to us. Bubba and I spent an embarrassing amount of time playing with these plastic skulls with movable jaws (meant to demonstrate differences in bone structure), making them lip-synch to us singing Blue Swede’s “Hooked on a Feeling .”

Mia, who had recently visited the museum, led us to a section on the third floor with a book collection. It contained a bunch of old books people wrote when they were observing natural phenomena. The one that caught my eye the most was one about trapdoor spiders. A man named Lee Passmore wrote about them, and he actually made me interested enough to consider finding more of his work later on.

We also visited a section that showcased a bunch of dead animals in jars. That was…creepy. But fun at the same time.

After realizing we couldn’t spend as much time in a single museum as we had if we wanted to see more, we moved on to the Science Center. That place is awesome. When I was a kid, my parents took me there a couple of times. It’s mainly geared toward kids, but, as we already know, that didn’t deter Mia, Bubba, or me.

We fiddled with electronic devices, practiced Morse Code, studied optical illusions, participated in a marble vortex of death, whispered to each other across a large room using echo devices, tossed discs onto a larger spinning disc, experimented with solar power, all that jazz. It was the most interactive portion of our trip.

However, the museum I was most excited for was the San Diego Museum of Art. The first time I had ever visited Balboa Park, we went to this museum and looked at all the pieces in their turn. None of them really called to me because I was an ignorant child who much preferred the Science Center’s activities to staring at portraits. Plus, things like Abstract Expressionism annoy me.

However, there was one piece of art I absolutely adored. The moment I looked at it, I was hypnotized, unable to look away. It oozed majesty, mystery, and integrity.

It’s called “Caged Pie.”

So during this trip, the one thing I knew I had to do was find it again. Bubba, Mia, and I explored every gallery, and in each room, I searched for Caged Pie. When I found it, it was everything I hoped it would be. You could see the even white brush strokes in the background, the dark colors of the pie juices, and the edges of the glass cage.

I don’t know what the picture “means.” I just know that I like it.

We saw other pieces of art at the museum, but that was the one I anticipated the most. I went to the museum’s gift shop afterwards and bought five postcards of Caged Pie for myself.

We were getting very tired with all the walking around at this point. So we decided to cap our trip with a peaceful amble through the Japanese Friendship Garden. I wish we had more time to appreciate the elegance of the garden, but the walk was still enjoyable. There were at least two koi ponds, filled with brilliantly colored koi, a bonsai tree altar, and rock pathways galore.

The only thing that “marred” our time in the garden was the man playing the organ in the amphitheater nearby. The Japanese Friendship Garden is right next to this open-air organ. Whoever was playing it was playing frenzied renditions of Tchaikovsky’s Nutcracker suite. It ruined the mood, but it did make us laugh.

And at the end of the day, there’s nothing wrong with a few laughs.

Literary Sins: On the Road Can Suck My Below Average Blog

On my neverending quest to become an enlightened reader, I bought a copy of Jack Kerouac’s On the Road a few months ago. I finished it yesterday, and all I can think is what a letdown reading it was.

I don’t know about you, but I had heard fantastic things about On the Road. Kerouac’s writing style was extolled as revolutionary, and his encapsulation of the wild and untrammeled Beat movement was considered a highlight of the times.

And as far as Kerouac’s writing style goes, On the Road was enjoyable. He writes in a semi-stream of consciousness style, almost as if he’s next to you, mumbling his tale. Often, his description of commonplace things are damn near poetic, and his vivid imaginings of what it feels like to feel are enticing and magnetic.

But fuck almost everything else about it.

The story is narrated by an indecisive and wandering young man named Sal Paradise, but it actually follows Sal’s friend, Dean Moriarty. It’s clear that Sal greatly admires and pities Dean at the same time. The two of them decide to travel “on the road” together. They’re looking for some kind of Beat Eden, a place that holds no restrictions against what they want and what they are, but they never really find it. Their own contrary natures and the regulated way American society functions stops them from ever finding that place where they belong.

This all sounds tremendously romantic, but I just couldn’t get into it for two very big reasons.

For one thing, the book is incredibly sexist. Women don’t seem to have the same voice as men do. Sal is his own person, Dean is his own person, every dude is his own person. They all have a presence in Kerouac’s writing that assures you they are sentient beings with hopes and dreams.

The women, on the other hand, are so objectified, they have zero personality. They’re in the story to be nuisances, background items, or sexual objects.

Normally, I don’t get hung up on novels not being MEGA inclusive. A good story will grab me every time no matter who it’s about. But On the Road grated on my nerves with every woman Sal and Dean ogled at, slept with, abandoned, harassed, or ignored. Plus, there is some really shady shit that goes down when Sal and Dean are staying at this house with a woman named Frankie. They both start developing a crush on her thirteen-year-old daughter.

No, you read that right. A THIRTEEN-YEAR-OLD girl.

And she’s not the only young girl the two men lust after.

It was disgusting reading about these older men crushing on these little girls.

Plus, Sal and Dean can’t seem to stop thinking about ladies period. Every time they’re out on the town, Sal fantasizes about meeting a “gone” girl for a good time. And they don’t care about these girls as people, with thoughts and dreams of their own. They only care about how good the girls can make them feel.

That actually leads to the other big reason why I hate On the Road.

The main characters are incredibly selfish. Now, I don’t care if a book tells me a story about a selfish person and their exploits. Human beings are fairly selfish creatures, so nearly every story with a human being in it has some degree of self-centeredness to it. What I do hate is if a book tells me a story about a selfish person and glorifies and romanticizes it.

Dean and Sal only care about themselves and their goals. They talk this big talk about aspirations and meaning-of-life shit, but they don’t ever take other people into consideration. They expound upon the immensity of life and love, but they act as if they’re the only people on the planet with these thoughts. It’s frustrating as hell, enraging even.

It’s like they willingly trapped themselves into this egocentric state of mind, and then they spend the rest of their time talking about how self-obsessed everyone else is.

They sound so holier-than-thou, but I bet if you walked up to them and told them so, they would just shake their heads and say that you “don’t get it.”

This attitude of theirs is epitomized in the second-to-last chapter, when Sal suffers a fever during their trip to Mexico. Dean decides to head back to the States to be with one of his exes, leaving Sal, in the throes of his sickness and half-hallucinating, behind. Dean simply says he’s “got to get back to his life.”

Maybe what infuriates me so much is the fact that I actually know guys that act like Sal and Dean. I’m not going to name names (though there is a part of me that really wants to out these guys), but they are modern-day Dean Moriartys. They think the world of themselves and their viewpoints, but they never stop to consider what another person is feeling like.

For me, there is nothing romantic about On the Road.

I rate On the Road a read-it-if-you-feel-you-must-but-if-you-like-it-then-we-seriously-need-to-have-a-deep-literary-discussion-about-why-you-do-so-that-I-can-understand-where-you’re-coming-from-because-I-honestly-loathe-the-thing.

What the Hell Did We Just Watch: A Midsommar Review

I just got out of the theater, and I still have tears of laughter in my eyes. I have no clue what me and my friends just walked out of.

Was it worth the nine dollars to get in?

If you have a sense of humor, yes, yes it was.

You might be a bit confused about this intro. Isn’t Midsommar a horror film? Yes, I think it’s supposed to be. But honestly, it felt like a straight-up comedy as I watched it.

I feel a bit guilty as I type this. The movie covers some serious subject matters, including suicide, grief, acceptance, and cultural sensitivity. But I don’t know what to tell you guys. Maybe it’s the circumstances in which I saw the film.

Me and two of my friends from D&D (Chris and Sidney) decided to watch Midsommar at the spur of the moment. We wanted to hang out, and we were eager to watch a scary movie. When we entered the theater, it was just us and three other people in the room.

As soon as the cringey dialogue began, complete with awkward pauses, the six of us could not contain our guffaws.

From a more removed standpoint (hearkening back to my college days), I can appreciate Midsommar for its themes and symbolism.

But as a Below Average person, I think the movie is ri-goddamn-diculous.

For this review, I thought I’d give a “short,” comment-filled synopsis of the movie. However, I do heartily recommend you watch it in theaters. There’s nothing quite like it.

Are you ready?

The movie starts fairly soberly. A girl named Dani is fearful for her family’s safety due to her sister’s suicidal tendencies, and Dani’s boyfriend, Christian, is wondering whether or not he should break up with her.

Dani’s sister commits a murder-suicide, killing her and Dani’s parents with some car exhaust. Christian, the douche-nozzle, was busy talking with his friends about how he doesn’t want to be Dani’s therapist right before she calls him to let him know what happened. Christian decides not to break up with Dani in light of these events.

This is all legitimately depressing stuff.

It’s after this part that the movie takes a turn.

The movie then cuts to a few months later (I think). Dani and Christian are at a party, and Dani is surprised with the information that Christian is planning to go to Sweden in a few weeks. When the two of them are back at their apartment, Dani asks him about this trip he’s apparently been planning.

And Christian gets stupidly defensive.

Dani is calmly asking him about the trip, and he reacts as if she’s attacking him. And I get that maybe the movie is trying to showcase how much of a dick Christian is. But it was just so absurd.

THEN the movie cuts to a few days later. Christian is with his friends, Josh, Mark, and Pelle. He tells them he invited Dani to come with them to Sweden.

And he does it in the most awkward way too. Every conversation in this movie sounds stilted. Dani comes into the room a moment later, and Mark asks Christian if he can talk to him.

Initially, I thought they were going to talk shit about Dani behind her back. Mark asked Christian to go into another room SO shadily. But nah, nothing like that happens. They just go off. Meanwhile, Dani strikes up a conversation with Pelle.

Pelle is the Swedish one of the group, the man responsible for initiating the group’s trip to his own commune. He and Dani talk about the trip, and then he decides to apologize to Dani for what happened to her parents. At this point, my friends and I flipped our lids.

What kind of insensitive human being would just BRING UP the MOST TRAUMATIC MOMENT in Dani’s life like that?

The film then decides to jump-cut immediately to the plane flight that Dani, Christian, Pelle, Josh, and Mark are on.

The group are in Sweden seconds later, and they run into Ingemar, Pelle’s brother. Ingemar has brought some foreign friends to the commune as well, Simon and Connie, and as soon as I found that out, I just knew that everyone would be lambs to the slaughter. What other reason could they have for inviting a bunch of foreigners to their place.

The group decides to imbibe some hallucinogens (for reasons), and Dani has a bad trip. She sees grass growing through her foot, and she sees her dead sister for a moment. This was legitimately a scary moment, but it was somewhat ruined by the pot-head comments the characters were making.

Everyone at Pelle and Ingemar’s commune seems really friendly. They dress all in white and do breathing rituals every now and then. They’re also fond of awkward pauses and not explaining things to people. They also like to keep a bear in a cage (remember that!) just for fun.

Things are going swimmingly until Dani and the other foreigners witness an extreme ritual that Pelle’s people practice. When someone gets too old in the commune, they commit suicide. They do this by leaping off a cliff. If they survive, there is a handy man with a large wooden mallet to bash their heads in.

Simon and Connie are freaked beyond belief and want to leave, which is a normal response. Dani’s group are idiots and write this off as just part of the commune’s culture. Simon and Connie end up leaving at separate times, very suspiciously and off camera, so you know that they got offed.

Meanwhile, Mark decides to take a leak on a sacred tree, which pisses off a bunch of Pelle’s family. He’s Mark-ed for death after that.

We find out the gruesomeness of Mark’s death later that night, when Josh tries taking some clandestine pictures of a sacred book. Josh gets caught by a man who is wearing Mark’s face as a mask. Josh then gets bashed on the head, and we assume he died as well.

Dani and Christian are now the only ones left alive, but since they’re such bad friends, they don’t question Mark or Josh’s disappearance. Dani participates in the Maypole dance and becomes May Queen. The commune really seems to accept her where they’ve just outright killed the other foreigners.

Christian, on the other hand, is being groomed for a strange sex ritual. One of the girls of the commune, Maja, wants to do him, and she’s been sending him typical flirtatious signals. You know what I mean. Things like leaving runes under his bed, putting pubic hair in his pies, and dripping period blood into his drinks.

Christian takes some drugs during Dani’s Maypole dance (because why not) and is made to have sex with Maja in a room while being surrounded by more naked cult women. This part gets real gratuitous. The naked women around Christian and Maja are super…helpful. They make moaning noises in time with Maja, and an old granny-woman with sagging you-know-whats pushes Christian’s buttocks in order to make him thrust more rhythmically.

Dani, who was otherwise preoccupied with being a May Queen, hears the sex noises and peers inside the building. She sees what Christian is doing and then runs away sobbing. Other young girls of the commune who participated in the Maypole dance start sobbing in time with Dani, as if they’re feeling her grief, and it’s actually one of the niftier parts of the movie. You see how Dani appreciates and longs for someone to feel with her.

Anyways, after Christian is done, he runs out of the building buck naked. He flees into a chicken coop and sees Simon dangling from the ceiling with his eyes plucked out and his lungs removed. Then Christian gets knocked out with some drug powder blown into his face. (There are a lot of drugs in Midsommar.)

Christian wakes up paralyzed. He and Dani are in a crowd of the cult people, including Pelle. Pelle’s been in on it the whole time. Everything is revealed at this moment. The cult requires nine sacrifices during this festival, and the four foreigners were part of that sacrifice. Four members from the commune sacrifice themselves as part of the ritual as well, but the last person to be sacrificed is left up to the May Queen.

That’s Dani.

The commune people ask Dani if she would rather sacrifice Christian or some rando from the commune.

She chooses Christian because he is an absolutely horrible boyfriend.

Christian is then stuffed into the disemboweled bear (the bear from the beginning!), kept paralyzed, then burned alive.

Dani smiles as she watches on.

And those are the bare bones of Midsommar. Reading over my synopsis, I can’t find the hilarity I felt when watching the movie. It might be one of those experiences you have to be there for in order to understand.

I rate Midsommar a there-are-almost-no-words-to-describe-my-feelings-while-watching-it-but-I-had-a-great-time-so-I’m-going-to-recommend-it-to-everyone-I-know-even-if-I-know-they-won’t-like-it-just-because-I-want-to-see-what-happens.

I Can’t Keep Up with My Writing!

I recently got a new job (in addition to other jobs I have), and it’s really cut into the time I have available on any given day. That means it has become quite a hassle trying to keep up with the blogging schedule I set for myself when I first started.

Even with my ability to schedule posts ahead of time, it’s been pretty stressful. I feel anxious about the blog if I don’t have at least three posts in the queue.

Because of that, I’ve been tossing the idea of changing up my blogging schedule. Currently, I publish a post once every four days. That might not seem like a lot, but with my own personal writing and the slew of writing jobs I have, it’s really piling up.

So I’ve been thinking of changing my schedule to publishing once a week.

There’s a large part of me that doesn’t want to do this. It feels like giving up. Or at the very least giving in. And while I might be a plushy pushover in every other aspect of my life, my dedication to writing has been the one part that I’ve been steadfastly dedicated to. Changing my schedule feels like I’m bowing down under pressure. It’s…personally irksome.

However, there’s another part of me that really wants to just ease the load that is currently on my figurative shoulders.

And, as anyone who knows me should know, I’m incredibly indecisive. It’s one of my major character flaws. (And, according to The Good Place, being this indecisive could potentially send me to the Bad Place. So yikes.) I can’t make this decision easily or quickly. I’m puzzling over it, pulling my hair out wondering what to do.

One way to solve this issue would be to pose the question to complete strangers. Right?

So what do you say? Should I put the pedal to the metal and stick to the original schedule I set for myself? Or should I rein in my blogging and publish a post once a week instead?