Caterwauling

Everyone, listen up.

The first rule of Fight Club is that if you need us on a Friday, NO YOU DON’T.

Someone who I very much try not to engage with, opted to engage with us on Friday afternoon.

Like, my whole team got caught in an absolute volcano of inanity.

You know how some meetings could have been an email? This entire Teams eruption should have been a meeting.

I commend my staff for not reaching through the screen and squelching the misinformation with their bare hands.

Also the fact that I got cc’d into it meant I wasn’t doing anything more valuable with that time.

Mis/dis information seems to be the theme of the week.

I have been watching all the MAGAs either claim Taylor Swift as their own or try to burn her at the stake over the new album.

Either way, the bullshit is breathtaking.

Speaking of bullshit, or lack thereof, my social media cleanse has been most beneficial.

I normally would have posted that C’s favorite play, “Jagged Little Pill,” is coming to the Broward Center. And then sat back to watch an absolute litany of insults about myself because of it.

Perhaps she’ll be simply be happy with the writing prompt and retweet old insults instead of retyping them.

Either way, ain’t none of my business. And I love it that way.

Day 3 of no elevator. Though they put a chair on each floor for … decoration?

I haven’t left the house. No reason to. Have enough kitty litter and food to last till year-end.

But I do have a guest coming by Friday. I was basically like yeah you can walk up the stairs and I’ll see you up here.

I do have a couple of trips planned during the outage.

My current plan is to haul my empty suitcases to my trunk and just lug my packing cubes and whatnot as I pack them.

As for hauling the shit back up five floors, oh who knows. Details!

I certainly tried to get all my online orders done and here before the great elevator outage. Rather, the only planned outage.

Alas, FedEx, Amazon and Etsy each have one Christmas ornament in their possessions that haven’t gotten here yet.

I didn’t want them to run up the steps, and they may not.

I gotta say, the elevator outage is great. I almost ordered from Levain, Georgetown Bakery, Fat Witch and Max Brenner. I mean, it’s Halloween and all. And I’m a fat girl who likes pumpkin and chocolate.

Alas, it’s not that I’ve saved a fortune in three days. But, I’ve saved a fortune in three days.

Trying not to book another trip instead. But I did get invited to an investor event for some biotech I got myself mixed up with. So … another trip?!

The new cat sitter is either going to kill me or not show up at this rate.

Gave way too much thought of the passed-on podcaster of it all this weekend.

I have always believed it’s an inside job/sacrifice.

And anyone who might even have some inkling that I would celebrate that, doesn’t know me.

I certainly appreciated the irony. Liked some tweets that said it better than I could.

I also took those accounts private/offline last week.

Not for THAT reason. For the reason that I am tired of people having access to me who don’t need to have that access.

This all only put a slammer at the end of that sentence, where I’d put a period only days earlier.

I tend to fight in the comments when I care. I fight a lot about this topic. I hate that “the right” blames it on “the left.”

I hate that “the right” celebrates OUR pain at having our First Amendment rights trampled on at having a reaction that wasn’t a river cried.

I hate that they are all dancing the Electric Slide hearing that Joe Biden is undergoing aggressive chemotherapy. That a female judge’s house burned to the ground after ruling against trump. That a female reporter was zip-tied and tossed around like a trash bag by ICE.

I hate that they aren’t the ones facing some sort of consequences for their actions, when people who hit a like or a retweet button are getting doxxed and deported.

Some joker picked a fight with me in the comments yesterday. He said every leftist he knows celebrated the killing.

I said I highly doubt that. And how did you react to Biden’s news?

He said, and I quote, the Dems are responsible for that killing and every death in America.

I said you know what causes death? Being fired. Being economically unstable. Being depressed because your identity was exposed and destroyed for … what? Saying wow how ironic that situation was.

So, Sparky, YOUR party is responsible for the gun violence. YOUR party is the one sending death threats and bullets and bombs in the direction of MY party.

And I’m only IN my party because I don’t want to be associated with YOUR party. And you feel I deserve a special level of hell for the box I checked on a form when I was 18.

A real president would take down the temperature of the country.

A real Congress would unite to rein in someone who thinks Habeas Corpus is someone who works for Kristi Noem.

A real judiciary would say hey remember when Jimmy Carter couldn’t have his peanut farm? No you can’t build a hotel on the Gaza strip or take billions from crypto investors.

And the fact that people like me are literally sitting around counting our assets just in case of emergency is not a country where any of us should stand for a song or kneel for a flag.

Not until it’s fixed.

So, I do want justice for the podcaster. It was too professional a hit. I want that sniper to sit in jail. I want the Epstein enablers/abusers to sit in jail. I want everyone who took a life purposely to sit in jail.

Not Luigi. Give a girl an exception here.

And I want us to be able to talk about it without chopping off each other’s heads and/or will to live.

I watched the “Lilith Fair: Building a Mystery” documentary on Hulu just now.

The one that Sarah McLachlan skipped the party for, to stand in solidarity with Jimmy Kimmel. And she was the first musical guest when he was back on the air.

I bought tickets for Mom and me to go every time the Lilith Fair hit Pittsburgh.

Even today, I am wearing the “oral sex” ring I bought her there. I bought one for me too but it’s too big and it’s lost to the ages in a house of cats.

I feel particularly blessed to have that connection to Momma still. And that I got to attend the Lilith Fair and the Eras Tour 4x each.

As a woman, I’ve never felt safer or more celebrated anywhere else.

I saw that Sarah is touring again. She has toured a bunch of times but never comes to Florida.

I also saw that she’s going to a venue I love up north. I watched Ticketmaster for several days, seeing the tickets dwindle away.

When they were down to one last seat at my preferred venue, I held my breath and dropped $250 to sell out the show.

I probably didn’t spend that in four years of buying two tickets in the late ’90s.

This was probably FOMO after having bought a ticket to see Melissa Etheridge and the Indigo Girls at the Ryman on 10/5 but accidentally sold that ticket.

The venue where I have my Sarah ticket to, I believe it was among those who received a bomb threat when my favorite (trans) artist played there.

Fortunately there have been no incidents on that tour. But I feel bad for the artist. It seems like her health has been iffy throughout. No goddamn wonder.

But that artist just added a bunch of tour dates … including MIAMI.

I can at least say I saw her when tickets were $50. Because I am pretty sure I paid more than I did for Sarah McLachlan for my new seat.

Anyway, about those bomb threats …

There’s a segment in the Lilith Fair documentary where all the antiabortion protesters/Jerry Falwell started demonizing the festival.

People protested en masse and called in bomb threats. Over Planned Parenthood having a tent in the festival area.

I make a monthly recurring donation to Planned Parenthood now. And I’m damn proud of it.

Isn’t it funny how it’s the “right” that promotes violence?

Life begins in the womb. So let’s bomb you for handing out condoms to prevent that womb from ever being filled with the blessed fruit (loops)?

Also, a trans artist has made her way from backwoods Florida to headlining a world tour. That bothers you? WHO HURT YOU?!

Go pick some berries since all those jobs the immigrants were supposedly taken are wide open now that they’ve been deported to third countries.

All any of us have ever wanted was for everyone to have personal and economic freedom.

Watching the Lilith Fair documentary was a reminder we’ve been nothing but gaslit for generations about that.

It was interesting that they included a clip of Kid Rock calling Monica Lewinsky a hoe. And the Woodstock crowd telling Sheryl Crow to show them her tits.

Just goes to show that the alt-reich was looking for voices for their generation, too.

I always believed we were quieter, but mightier.

I hope that prevails.

And for an hour-ish on Hulu, I got that hope back again.

Got my ass hauled to the principal’s office last night.

Apparently it’s not nice to call a white supremacist podcaster a white supremacist podcaster.

The talk was basically, “You do you. But maybe consider not doing you on this one.”

I said I’ve always appreciated that the company has looked the other way when it comes to my mouth.

I feel so sorry for good people who have lost their livelihoods over someone who should have gotten the same media coverage as the 29 people who died in school shootings so far in 2025.

I did ask who brought it up. Thrice it was said, “It was brought to me.”

I already know the answer. It’s someone who, in regular conversations, shares their support of Elon and policies that have directly hurt people I know in D.C.

Since I’m “marked safe” for now from the Charlie Twerp nonsense, I had to ask why he’s the dealbreaker for so many employers.

Like, I say Fuck ICE every five minutes, but one comment about this guy is sponge worthy?

Also, why are cities being mandated to name streets after him or lose funding?

Why is it OK that people who are perceived (wrongly) to be excited about it are losing their jobs over retweets … and the other side is allowed to excited about THAT?

I won’t get into the answers as I don’t wholly agree with them.

But I also disagreed verbally, as I am no longer one to sit and ruminate quietly.

In any event, I appreciate that free speech still exists in my world.

And I’ll go make a donation to the ACLU once I hit the publish button. Since too many good people weren’t so fortunate

Now that guy, i might smile about someday.

I’ve been able to ignore trolls for months and years on end.

I normally don’t announce it. I just check out and enjoy my life.

And when a message somehow makes its way to me, I just mark it as spam and move on.

It is “Actually Romantic” how many of you will create fake email addresses and get burner phones with new numbers to:

A) see what I’m up to and
B) use those as an Ouija board to reach me.

With this Harvest Moon, you’re all dead to me.

Don’t come back on Day of the Dead.

Ain’t nobody here got you on their ofrenda.

I was just talking with someone about “Charli” — who will go post a screed about how she doesn’t talk to anyone about me.

Yet the Venn diagram of people who like/comment on her posts and who also follow me — that I’ve had to block on multiple platforms — is a goddamn circle.

Anyway, I was saying how free I feel. And how she’ll still be combing my blog for hints that I’m thinking about her.

And she’ll be going back and re-reading all my posts to see how I edited them.

Hint: I JUST EDITED ONE OF THOSE POSTS MUAHAHAHAHHAAHHAH.

I imagine they’re twitching and aching for my attention while I’m just over here feeling UNBURDENED for the first time in a long time.

I admit, I wanted to see them heal. I figured it would happen eventually.

But it seems this hope made me as delusional as them.

Adios, pendejos.

Well, I did it.

I done cried so hard, I broke a blood vessel in my eyeball.

Hard to work with one eye. And it’s my better eye, too, that’s painful as shit.

Luckily it’s not red or deformed. Just annoying.

So last night I went to bed early. And watched “The Long Kiss Goodnight.” Swoon. Still love that film.

I got such a treat.

I dreamed of Old Gram.

I cannot remember the last time I dreamed of her. She was so tiny and cute and full of smiles and hugs.

Oh, I loved this for me.

Mom used to always dream of our relatives and friends who’d crossed over.

She called it “Dancing with the dead.”

I never did till lately.

I love it.

I was thinking about my Gram the other day. How, if she incarnated soon after she passed, she could be 25 by now.

Damn, my grandmother half my age. Imagine.

Seeing Old Gram so young and cute and spirited, I thought, damn, what if SHE incarnated too?

As Gram’s mom once again? Well, probably not possible. They passed 12 years apart. But sisters or best friends? Absolutely.

Anyway, I love that I dream about them and feel them around.

And I really love knowing they could be anywhere in this world where I could run into them again.

I got served some Joe Alwyn content where he looked hot.

Then someone said he was Taylor’s true muse.

For better or worse, he inspired part or all of 5-7 albums.

Fair.

The poster didn’t like Travis, though. Probably a Gaylor Swiftie.

I don’t disagree that Joe was her greatest muse.

But we don’t always marry our muses.

And I’m not talking about me.

But hey, maybe he writes science fiction to escape the life he did choose.

So, sure, he got his muse. Let’s go with that.

In any event, that is not my problem, is it now?

As for the other sick fuck in my spam, I deleted your message unopened.

Cindy says you’re a hater. I would say abuser but she knows everything about me. Maybe you two can duke it out for who has wasted more of my time.

Welp, I was right about hot takes about Taylor Swift’s album were on BlueSky.

So as of today, I have now deleted my BlueSky account.

It joins the trash pile of every other social platform where I could read insults about me.

Now I truly cannot and WILL NOT see those.

What did it for me?

HER somehow thinking SHE is the protagonist in “Actually Romantic” — if I laughed any harder, I’d choke up the pumpkin muffin I had for lunch.

May you continue to get what you put out into the world. And if you don’t want that to be delusions, lies and condescension, only you can fix that.

Like Taylor sang on the last album, there wouldn’t be this if there hadn’t been you.

I’ll keep putting love and light into the world. Kind of like canceling out a tRumper’s vote, but karmically.

Made the mistake of scrolling through some hot takes of “The Life of a Showgirl.”

Given that I actually pay to publish my own hot takes, I’m going to do that!

One, the CD jacket. The songs are arranged in the shape of The Eras Tour stage. Genius.

Two, it’s so Millennial coded. We looked fire. Keep it 100. Etc. This is our yearbook for 2025 with all the sayings she immortalized.

Three, when we heard Max & Shellback came back to work on this one, half of Swiftiedom lamented that. Bitches, they gave us Red and Reputation — you don’t get to claim you’re a “Rep girlie” if you complain. That said, I remain a Red/Rep girlie. No skips, all good.

Four, Taylor and I have always gone through our life stages together. Every album was a mirror to my life. There are some serious, serious parallels in Showgirl to my own life. Though I wish there were more, like a man who’s breaking my back every night with his “hard rock.”

Five, the tracks:

The Fate of Ophelia — I’ll comment on the video, since the Showgirl Release Party focused on showing us the video, then the making of it, then the video again. Genius. Also, Tay got all her dancers and backup singers together on it. Was it shot during the tour? Or did she say let me get my people back together? Either way, dance captain Amanda Balen was always Mom’s favorite and she remains mine too.

Elizabeth Taylor — Gram used to wear her perfumes. She loved Passion, the violet one. And Gram bought me White Diamonds at a young age, so I’d grow up to appreciate fine fragrances. No wonder my average perfume bottle costs $350.

The song became an early favorite for me. “You’re only as hot as your last hit, baby.”

I haven’t figured out the direct connection to Liz yet other than “I’d cry my eyes violet.” But it will come.

ETA:

Opalite — This is my overall favorite. I have plenty of opalite in the house. And this feels like a personal anthem.

I relate to “You were dancing through the lightning strikes.” I take it to mean that through all the failed “Ships” (relation and friend), she remained true to herself and what she wanted. And that she never gave up hope on finding it, because she knew what she was looking for all along.

Father Figure — I feel a way about this because I thought there would be more of a direct connection to George Michael. Not one lyric, not one sample, nothing.

ETA: Ohhh! I saw Cindy’s seven-tweet screed about how stupid I am on this topic. But she never mentioned this:

Heffa, remember when you used to shitpost about Taylor? Then only started listening to her to impress others? Leave the Tay-lore to the real fans.

That said, I see Taylor coming to terms with the Scott Borchetta of it all. Scooter Braun is a cad. We know that. But the line about taking care of the family made me think family friend Borchetta said that.

Also the girl boss of it all — SHE is the father figure. And she sees herself through Borchetta’s eyes. Maybe as someone ungrateful and angry. Like, he protected her till he didn’t.

Some say this is her passing the torch to the Sabrinas and the Gracies. I don’t see her passing any torch. She’s keeping it. And drinking that brown liquor.

Eldest Daughter — I feel a way about this too. Track 5 is always “my” song. But it’s no, say, “Delicate” or “All Too Well.” But … that’s not a bad thing.

It has grown on me because it’s all about how we hide what we like/want/need so people don’t fuck that up for us. And we hide our joy at “Ferris wheels, kisses, and lilacs” because others will find it uncool.

This is where she’s starting to say hey, I will always take care of you (parents, fans) but I also really kinda want to be married too. And if you find that uncool, well, that’s no longer my problem.

Ruin the Friendship — This was so lovely. She brought back Abigail! And name-dropped 50 Cent!

I love the recurring theme that there was no invitation. No invitation to kiss him, no invitation to his funeral. The one time she acted on her feelings, it was to fly home to his gravesite, rather than to see if there was something real when they had the chance.

“And my advice is to always answer the question / Better that than to ask it all your life.”

It explains my 40s. All those years we didn’t fuck up our friendships. Until we did.

And you know what? We lived.

We lived in the sense of having the time of our lives … and we lived through it, even if we walked away wounded.

Actually Romantic — I imagine there’s some hot take about this song on a BlueSky right now.

I love this one.

And not because I have this single white female type who’s obsessed with me.

I’ve long asked the question, why the obsession with me? Six years of running commentary (and some imagined scenarios on her part) about me is beyond weird.

But when I dare type how fascinating it is that a female would pay such rapt attention to me … her response reminds me of the DL-LGBTQs who crash Grindr every time the GOP gets together.

Taylor puts it more elegantly than I did, that “No man has ever loved me like you do.”

Sorry (not sorry), Charli.

I mean, my Charli is clearly concerned for my health.

Have I gotten a covid booster. Am I wearing a mask out to protect myself and others. I didn’t realize that when I read the screeching. I just assumed she wanted me to walk home from Vegas and sit shiva at home.

Now I see, she just loves me like no else did.

Wi$h Li$t — This is Eldest Daughter Part 2. Like you want things and I hope you get them all. But I want my man and my privacy. And goddamn it, I got it!

My favorite line was an ode to Kylie Kelce — “Have a couple kids / got the whole block looking like you.”

Kylie’s genes stayed home when those kids were made. Same with Mama Kelce. Might a Swift kid look anything like Mother? Not sure at this point!

And that she’s dreaming about a driveway with a basketball hoop — Kylie has all girls (four of them!) and I bet Tay goes on to have a couple boys. Which she alluded to in “Anti-Hero” that her daughter-in-law killed her for the money (“She thinks I left them in the will.”)

Tay is the manifestation QUEEN. So mote it be. I bet we get a surprise twin boy surrogate delivery within the next year.

Wood — Travis probably swaggered into work on Friday like the baddest bitch in the whole damn town.

Like yeah I’m marrying the most famous woman in the world, and she sang a whole song about my redwood-tree-sized cock.

Can I put having my own Travis Kelce on MY Wi$h Li$t?

Cancelled! — Oh girlie. The British spelling, really?

The trolls online say this is about that MAGA moron Britany Mahomes. No way.

“I like my friends cloaked in Gucci and in scandal” is all Blake. And “We’re the ones with matching scars” — Baldoni coded. for sure.

So many twits out there say she and Blake haven’t been together since the Baldoni shit began, so clearly Tay hates her.

Taylor dropped a whole fucking album and none of you idiots knew about it. She turns up at weddings and we don’t know till the pictures come out. Also haven’t none of yinz heard of FaceTime?

Taylor is the godmother to Blake’s four kids. I am sure she behaves like one.

Honey — This was my least favorite at first because of how hard it hit home.

Kelly’s awful roommate calls her “Babe.” And it just sets me on edge because it’s a term of endearment used as a weapon. Like Honey or sweetheart or darling or lovely.

Like Taylor points out, people say that shit to do everything to avoid paying them a sincere compliment.

“They were saying that skirt don’t fit me / And I cried the whole way home” hit me hard.

I was at Magic Kingdom last Christmas. In a very cute wintery outfit, with a red bow sweater and a red plaid Halara skort.

Well some well-meaning woman sidled up to me while I was taking a selfie and told me my underwear was showing.

That selfie.

“Lady to lady, I thought you’d want to know so you could fix it.”

Lady to lady has haunted me for 10 months.

Bitch, it’s a flouncy miniskirt with shorts attached.

And I got a bubble butt.

Mom always said we had “Bonga Butts.” I do not know what that means. But something that used to make me laugh now makes me so unhappy.

So BOY did I feel her that her “skirt didn’t fit right.” Says who? Some dumbass in Magic Kingdom?

Also I’ve gone to MK about 14 times since then. I have seen enough butt cheeks and ass crack on people from size zero to size 30. I am not saying I was gorgeous, but I am saying I was pretty well covered in comparison.

I imagine she really did mean well. Maybe she thought I was classier than most and that I’d appreciate it.

I didn’t. I still don’t. I like people like her Cancelled.

Extra L for losers.

The Life of a Showgirl (ft. Sabrina Carpenter) — I want to like Sabrina. I really do. But It’s hard and I don’t know why.

I think it’s because Sabrina showed up at NOLA Night 2 and my ticket was for NOLA Night 3.

Anyway the song is actual perfection, I grudgingly admit. Tay and Sab’s voices are perfect together as they tell Kitty’s story. The word lovely reappears here. But in a more sincere way.

The line that sticks with me here is when they both sing, “They leave showgirls for dead.”

Given all the hate online by MAGAs AND Swifties for the album and the Release Party, we really do leave them for dead.

The Life of a Showgirl is a perfect epilogue to The Eras Tour.

And unlike the MAGA Swiftiedom that’s waiting for TS13 to rip that apart too, I’m going to let our girl enjoy her getting a good deep dicking every night era … and maybe admit that I could use that too.