One Art (BY ELIZABETH BISHOP)

The art of losing isn’t hard to master;

so many things seem filled with the intent

to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster

of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.

The art of losing isn’t hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:

places, and names, and where it was you meant

to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother’s watch. And look! my last, or

next-to-last, of three loved houses went.

The art of losing isn’t hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,

some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.

I miss them, but it wasn’t a disaster.

—Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture

I love) I shan’t have lied. It’s evident

the art of losing’s not too hard to master

though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

2021 ear worm.

“You do care a little for me, I know... but nothing to speak of, and you don't love me. I was yours once till death if you'd cared to keep me, but I'm someone else's now... and he's mine in a way that shocks you, but why don't you stop being shocked, and attend to your own happiness.” 
― E.M. Forster, Maurice

Lately I've been...

Reading: Tana French's new novel, The Trespasser, which is the best kind of crime novel in that it's pacey without sacrificing lovely prose. I'm *loving* it. I've also just finished Louise's Penny's Still Life, which was very good, and re-reading Rainbow Rowell's excellent novel Carry On, which is a book that still feels like it's been made just for me.

Listening to: Magnetic Fields' 69 Love Songs. Also just a whole lot of podcasts that are probably too numerous (and in some cases embarassing) to list here.

Watching: Not a hell of a lot, given the lack of both TV and internet at home. But I've been enjoying a bit of Key and Peele and revisiting some old movies. Once I can access Netflix again I'm 100 per cent down with catching up on some Luke Cage action.

Spending my money: Paying down credit card debt before I become underemployed in a matter of days (yikes), buying very boring baby stuff, acquiring half of Bunnings for house reno madness. Breakfasts out and movies continue to be my indulgences but you've got to have *something* to look forward to.

Spending my time: Reading (a tonne), writing (a bit), stressing (a lot), painting (not well) and walking (frequently).

Looking forward to: Maternity leave (without the whole baby bit). A birthday dinner this weekend with buttery pasta. Birthday presents (I know, that sounds gross but I've been so good about not buying myself Fun Stuff lately that I'm just excited by the prospect of New Things). Having house renovations finished (one day).

Wishing: I was sleeping better. Waking up 5+ times a night is not cool unless you're a baby.

Feeling: Happy.

Missing: My books, most of which are packed up in my parents' house. I realise this is a First World Problem but being separated from them and unable to (re)read whatever I want to read when I want to read it is bumming me out. I've resorted to borrowing some old favourites from the library for now.

Vale Tombili

I like this story so much I feel like I maybe couldn't be friends with someone who didn't.

“What ho!" I said.

"What ho!" said Motty.

"What ho! What ho!"

"What ho! What ho! What ho!"

After that it seemed rather difficult to go on with the conversation.” 

― P.G. Wodehouse, My Man Jeeves

That *shirt*

For some reason, possibly because I'm quite stupid, I've never managed to really get into Michael Chabon's fiction. Much as I want to love it and much as I love his ideas the style of writing and the way he tells the stories has never clicked into place for me.

On the other hand this article he's written for GQ on taking his young son to Fashion Week is just... sublime.

"You are born into a family and those are your people, and they know you and they love you and if you are lucky they even, on occasion, manage to understand you. And that ought to be enough. But it is never enough. Abe had not been dressing up, styling himself, for all these years because he was trying to prove how different he was from everyone else. He did it in the hope of attracting the attention of somebody else—somewhere, someday—who was thesame. He was not flying his freak flag; he was sending up a flare, hoping for rescue, for company in the solitude of his passion."

Stranger Things

Obviously I've been slacker than slack on the blog front for a whole bunch of reasons but I couldn't walk past this gif, via Rainbow Rowell.

Like everyone else in the world I really got into Netflix's Stranger Things series. I particularly enjoyed what they did with the douchey boyfriend stereotype, as brilliantly articulated in this article. I hate movies where The Girl has a douchey boyfriend and yet it still supposed to be the object of desire for The Boy Hero. If someone is stupid enough to go out with a grade A dickhead does that really make them someone you'd want to date?

For some reason I'm tumbling back into an old obsession today

If you wanna try, If you wanna try

there's no worse you could do (oh oh oh)

I know you lie (I know you lie)

I'm still in love with you (oh oh oh)

"I didn't tell you to put the balm on"

As someone who has definitely sniffed a bit about the famous hot coffee case (and snorted at the Seinfeld parody) I found this bit of background, via Rainbow Rowell, eye-opening and appropriately guilt-inducing.

A few things you need to know about this hot coffee case:

1. It wasn’t an issue of the coffee being because no fucking shit coffee is hot, but McDonald’s had over heated their water to 250 degrees Fahrenheit. That’s 121C. Not just hot, but really FUCKING hot. Your fancy Starbucks lattes are brewed to 150 degrees.
2. The 79 year old woman had this cup of 250F (121C) coffee between her legs when it spilled so 250F (121C) coffee spilled on her genitals
3. She got third degree burns…on her genitals. THIRD DEGREE.
4. She had to have skin grafts to repair the damage
5. When she sued McDonald’s, it wasn’t for millions of dollars, it was for $20,000 to cover hospital costs and court fees. 20-fucking-thousand.
6. It was the courts that awarded her the amount of money she got. Again, she only wanted hospital bills and court costs
7. McDonald’s changed their heating policy, but not beforemaking her sign a gag order keeping her from talking about this case
8. So she had to live on hearing little shits like you call her stupid and money-grubbing, and other horrendous stuff because she dared ask the company in the wrong to fix what they fucked up.

MORE FUN FACTS:

9. The woman who was burned was not driving the car, she was a passenger.

10. The car was not in motion when she was burned. The car was parked so she could add cream and sugar.

The coffee case is one of the biggest examples of a carefully-crafted smear campaign by a company that is in the wrong trying to hide that.

Additionally, several people had been badly burned by McDonald’s coffee prior to that case, both employees and customers, and McDonald’s had been fined and told to lower the heat of their coffee. They refused to lower the coffee’s heat, continuing to serve a product they KNEW from EXPERIENCE was dangerous, because they could.

When she was burned, she reached out to McDonald’s for them to cover her medical expenses. They sent her a coupon booklet as a big eff yuu.

She required skin grafts not just on her genitals but on her thighs, buttocks, and I think stomach. Like, it was a lot of skin grafts! And did you know that skin grafts don’t always take? She was very severely hurt by a product that McDonald’s knew for a FACT was dangerous.

But nah, go on talking about how she was just foolish and greedy, that’s obviously the case, big corporations have all of our best interest in heart, really they do.

Her name was Stella Liebeck. She has since passed away but I think it’s important to name the victim in this story. Her name was Stella Liebeck and the coffee was so hot that it fused her labia together. It melted her genitals closed. But it’s all just a giant joke, huh?

By the way?

Liebeck, who also underwent debridement treatments, sought to settle her claim for $20,000, but McDonalds refused. 

At that point, she had medical bills of over $11,000. She was anticipating more. She didn’t have much money.She just wanted McDonald’s to pay for the damage their coffee had done so that she could get medical treatment. Seems reasonable, right?

McDonald’s countered with an offer of $800, then turned down repeated requests to settle.  

And there weren’t several people who were burned before Liebeck. It was a LOT worse than that.

During discovery, McDonalds produced documents showing more than 700 claims by people burned by its coffee between 1982 and 1992. Some claims involved third-degree burns substantially similar to Liebeck[’]s. This history documented McDonalds’ knowledge about the extent and nature of this hazard. 

So McDonald’s knew that their coffee was burning people–in some cases, causing third-degree burns. They knew it for TEN YEARS. And they did nothing about it.

Oh, and the jury award?

The jury awarded Liebeck $200,000 in compensatory damages. This amount was reduced to $160,000 because the jury found Liebeck 20 percent at fault in the spill. The jury also awarded Liebeck $2.7 million in punitive damages, which equals about two days of McDonalds’ coffee sales. 

:::

The trial court subsequently reduced the punitive award to $480,000 – or three times compensatory damages – even though the judge called McDonalds’ conduct reckless, callous and willful. 

So all of the jokes about how rich Liebeck got off the settlement? Nope. McDonald’s ended up not even having to pay most of it.

Nancy Tiano says her mother was “never happy about the incident” and that “the burns and court proceedings took their toll.” During her final years, Tiano says, her mother had no quality of life. The good news is that the settlement helped to ease the end of her life by paying for a live-in nurse. 

That’s where the money went. For medical care. 

Don’t forget that the REASON that they serve their coffee at DANGEROUSLY high temperatures (Injuring literally thousands of customers) is because coffee brewed and kept at those DANGEROUSLY HIGH temperatures tastes fresher longer, so less undrunk coffee has to be thrown out throughout the day, so McDonalds can MAKE MORE PROFIT on their damn coffee sales. 

Everything you need to know about this article

Is in the title:

The Married Woman Who Kept Her Lover in the Attic

"But you wanted tea last night..."

This British video equating tea and sexual consent is... really quite good.

"You're playing a very dangerous game of chicken with the head fucking hen, 'cause if I don't win the White House, O'Brien is gonna sink your stupid boats and you're gonna look like a hair-sprayed asshole in your 1980s mother-of-the-bride dress. And if I do win, I will have my administration come to your shitty little district and shake it to death like a Guatemalan nanny. And then I'm gonna have the IRS crawl so far up your husband's colon, he's gonna wish the only thing they find is more cancer."

"Good God."

"So can I count on your vote? Or do I need to shove a box of White House M&Ms up your stretched-out six-baby vag?"

Why aren't you watching, Veep, exactly?

Lately I've been...

Reading: Bellweather Rhapsody, which I am absolutely loving. Also The Whites, which I know is supposed to be THE GREATEST crime novel for years but which I am seriously struggling to get into. Prolly 'cos I'm stupid.

Listening to: The Hamilton soundtrack. Yes, still, and I know that's sad. For some reason I just haven't been listening to much music lately and I'm not sure why.

Watching:  Silicon Valley (funny and charming), Veep (ditto) and... okay I wasn't going to admit this but I started watching some Netflix trash called Good Witch on the weekend while I was cooking and I... can't stop. It's not even slightly good. I can't recommend it to ANYONE. And the lead actress has had so much plastic surgery her face is simultaneously mesmerising and terrifying. And yet...

Spending my money: Almost exclusively on going out for breakfasts and dinners. In all other areas of my life I am pinching pennies and cutting back but life without a Sayers muffin or a burger from Flipside is no life at all.

Spending my time: Reading (I'm on a real jag of good books at the moment, long may it continue), getting fat (well...), running (not that fat) and trying to write a new terrible novel in the month of June (so far so good in that it is indeed terrible).

Looking forward to: A two week holiday at home with absolutely nothing planned. Also: moving house... at some point in the near future, I'm assured.

"20 minutes of action" or as some people like to call it "rape"

If you're wondering why my blood is boiling over this particular rape case when, you know, there are lots of horrible rape cases that happen all the time, the answer is basically: this.

Also, am I a gross perv for thinking that one of the guys who came to the victim's aid that night is, um, kinda hot? I'm sorry, I'll show myself out.

The FB post below comes via Rainbow Rowell and, yeah: word.

How old are you? How much do you weigh? What did you eat that day? Well what did you have for dinner? Who made dinner? Did you drink with dinner? No, not even water? When did you drink? How much did you drink? What container did you drink out of?

I am not a weeper and I'm particularly not a weeper at work but JESUS this victim's statement from the girl who was raped behind a dumpster by a 19-year-old she'd never met had me speedwalking to the bathroom. If that sounds like super grim stuff you don't want to hear I'd urge you to read the whole thing here anyway:

Your Honor, if it is all right, for the majority of this statement I would like to address the defendant directly. You don’t know me, but you’ve been inside me, and that’s why we’re here today. On January 17th, 2015, it was a quiet Saturday night at home. My dad made some dinner and I sat at the table with my younger sister who was visiting for the weekend. I was working full time and it was approaching my bed time. I planned to stay at home by myself, watch some TV and read, while she went to a party with her friends. Then, I decided it was my only night with her, I had nothing better to do, so why not, there’s a dumb party ten minutes from my house, I would go, dance like a fool, and embarrass my younger sister. On the way there, I joked that undergrad guys would have braces. My sister teased me for wearing a beige cardigan to a frat party like a librarian. I called myself “big mama”, because I knew I’d be the oldest one there. I made silly faces, let my guard down, and drank liquor too fast not factoring in that my tolerance had significantly lowered since college.

My day in a nutshell

Legitimately believed for one terrifying moment I had grown a new, tiny bone behind my knee before I realised I'd dropped a bobby pin down my tights.

Between Love and Hate

Things I am loving 

Breakfast with the papers at Sayers. I swing between worrying this is a terrible, overly indulgent, habit and feeling like it is a necessary ritual to remain sane and happy.

Avocado. All hail the mighty green beast: I can’t get enough mashed on toast or stuffed into a toastie lately.

The novels of Toni Jordan. Since stumbling onto “Fall Girl” because I thought the cover looked cool (…) I’ve been devouring her back catalogue and loving it. ‘Tis bloody hard to find any writer who does funny and romantic well, let alone an Aussie.

The hot chips from Flipside Burger. Simply none better and I speak as someone who has sampled EXTENSIVELY. If you like aoli, which tragically I can’t eat right now, you have the perfect accompaniment.

The Hamilton soundtrack (yes, still).

Running. Still. Just. Despite having to cut back on my pace and distances a bit lately I still find that the best days of my life begin with a run. There is simply no better feeling than finishing a long run and thinking "fuck I'm going to enjoy this giant plate of pancakes now". Is that... wrong?

Things I am hating

People posting endless (posed) wedding photos on social media. My GOD it’s just one fucking day, enough already please.

Perpetual tardiness. Get a watch, look at your phone or at least pretend to give a shit about other people’s time – I don’t care which.

Headaches. Specifically: my headaches. Why do  you torment me so?

Cold mornings. I love a cold night when I’m snuggled under the doona but when the alarm goes off at 5.30am and it’s freezing my body just does not want to get out of bed.

My inability to find a) my DVD copy of Matthew Bourne’s Swan Lake, or b) a version of this online, not even for ready money. If you're uncertain why I love this so much the photo above might help you work it out.

Pinching pennies. True, I'm not exactly doing it tough in that I still spend money going out for breakfasts, dinners and to the movies because these are the things that, for me, make life worth living. But maaaaaaaaan it would be nice to buy a new pair of beautiful heels or a wet weather running jacket or a million books some time soon.

From McSweeney's, which you should really check out all the time.

“It is easy to be heavy: hard to be light.”

(G.K Chesterton)