What made American Fiction (2023) such a delight to watch isn’t so much the stellar acting or the clever writing, but Cord Jefferson’s stunning ability to weave together irony and sincerity. It’s not often that I see the nuance in smart, unstereotypical Black characters who are hilarious, and who at the same time fill my heart with tenderness.

Over the weekend, I fleshed out this website’s library; a page that will hopefully soon be a living overview of all the media and culture I consume. It’s populated by a library.yml data file, which I appreciate for its ability to store my information regardless of the website or software.

Sure, I have a Goodreads profile and an IMDB account, but this is more sustainable. If you’ve been on this website before, you’ll know that’s important to me.

Yesterday, I attended the very first gathering of FC de Filmfanaten, a brand-new film club that my friend Jolien started. There were four of us, and we discussed the movie I was proud to have suggested: Talk To Me. I love speaking about films with others, and particularly with this diverse group of people. Everyone brought a completely unique perspective to the film, one brought film industry insights while the other had thoughtful ideas that I hadn’t considered.

• Cooler temperatures! After the hottest week I’ve experienced in months, things were back to comfortable Summer weather. By the time I’m writing this the sky is gray and it’s raining, but this week’s weather was cheerful and moderate.
• On Tuesday and Wednesday I gave two big UX workshops at week to help coworkers understand how they can use UX in their daily work. I’ve been giving workshops for well over a decade, always trusting my instinct to figure out what a particular group or context required. At work, though, we have two wonderful scrum masters who are well-versed in the art of facilitation. I learned a lot from their feedback, and saw a hugh jump between the quality of the first day and of the second day.
• I caught up with a special friend on Wednesday, a young woman I met because we were treated for the same health condition. Her life as a Psych major couldn’t be more different from mine, and yet the red threads our lives resemble one another. I’m fortunate to call her my friend.
• I had missed a few weeks in my RSS reader, but I was pleased to see Manuel Moreale’s People & Blogs is off to a good start. To hell with Anja calling me a geek for being into the IndieWeb, I love visiting other people’s websites. I suspect I love reading what they have to say about those websites even more.
• Last week, I had met an amazing couple of lesbians who invited me over for a casual dinner party on Friday. After a particularly challenging week, it was comforting to hear their experiences as people of color in the world today. I’m already looking forward to inviting them to our place.
• On Saturday, Anja and I kicked off the weekend with a spontaneous redesign of our living room. We finally got rid of my desk, which was a Covid-era purchase used for our home office. What remains now is Anja’s bigger desk, which functions as a dining room table that she hates more than I do. The removal of our home office allowed us to place our sofa there, which has giving the living room a significant amount of extra space. The dining room table continues to double as an office whenever we put our ultrawide monitor there. I like modular living, and I’m feeling less and less awkward about the way we’re going about it in our house.
• At the end of our cleaning sprint Anja mentioned it was a beautiful day for this accomplishment, since it was Rosh Hashanah. New living room, new beginnings.
• After visiting Anja’s mom in the afternoon, we biked to Kriterion to Watch Oppenheimer
• Much like the last few days, I’m not in the best of states. There’s an old sadness that keeps saying hello, and I’m slowly beginning to think it might be time to get some help with it.
• I’m nearing the end of my journal, and I’m surprised by how unnervous I am by the few pages I have left. In this past, like the rest of the world, as it appears, I had trouble finishing a journal in a relaxed manner. Looking at the first entry, I see I have 29 days left until it’ll have been one year exactly. Hello nerves.

• This week, I attended my first Gerimedica party. It’s great to know I can expect a big celebration every year, and not just for the company’s sweet sixteen. It confirmed what I already know: great vibe, great taste, great people.
• I went to Bar Bario on Saturday for a meet-up called Hair Haven, which fosters connection between people with curly hair. Again, I was struck by how welcoming the space is. It’s a ridiculous feeling, being the norm there.
• I’m tired these days. Too much fun, too little rest. I’m better at napping, though. On Sunday, I barely wanted to get out of bed after a little snooze. Three years ago, a nap was unthinkable.
• I’m giving Reni Eddo-Lodge‘s Why I’m No Longer Talking to White People About Race another spin. The title alone makes it a hard read, but I’m hoping I’ll find myself along the way.
• I saw Dalva at Ketelhuis. Reading the reviews, I’m surprised so many people seem to interpret the girl’s dress style as “an adult woman in the 50s”. I thought it was reminiscent of the way girls dressed when the camera first came out. Not a girl, not yet a woman. Regardless, I imagine being Dalva’s mother, getting to know her daughter again, and understanding what has gone so wrong in the fibers of het child. It sends chills down my spine.
• In another childhood trauma narrative, I thought it was so moving that Jan Broberg played the therapist in the Showtime series on her turbulent childhood. I fantasized the scenes functioned as a systemic family constellation, her talking to her childhood self. The reality was probably much more technical than that.
• Anja had a very intense and short stint with Call of Duty, remarking on its evocative storytelling in the Cold War portion. She finished it, though, and the zombies turned om her off with such immediacy that she’s back to NBA.
• After hearing it only once, Billie Eilish’s “The 30th” is stuck in my head. She and her brother have a good thing going.

January flew, flew by, I tell you. We started with “wow, 2023 already, let’s have a chill time this year, hey what’s on Netflix?” and at the time of writing everything is different:

• Things are not chill, because we’re preparing ourselves, our lives, and our house for our first-ever puppy
• Both our work lives are unexpectedly bustling and busy
• We cancelled Netflix

I’ve been saying for years that I’d be willing to pay 100 euros a month for a single, all-encompassing international streaming platform. I suppose it’s never going to happen, but, hey, at least we’ll have that puppy, right?

We had two friends over today. They’re dear to me specifically because we got to know each other intimately during our eating disorder recovery. We promised we’d one day get together and watch Love Actually, much-beloved by each of us.

I’ve developed a habit of watching this film at least once a year. Despite its soft romcomness, homogenous cast, and general lack of depth it has taught me volumes on relationships. I love it more with each viewing.