PicoBlog

The Good Chat By Gina Martin If you're a feminist looking for nuance, someone who wants to disrupt inequality or just a human with big feelings trying to live by their values, then this newsletter is for you. Created by activist and writer Gina Martin. ncG1vNJzZmirpZfAta3CpGWcp51kjai1zZqkmqqknrs%3D

Note to readers: if you don’t want to hear about pubic hair — specifically, the era when pubic hairstyles looked like Fred Durst’s goatee — you may want to skip this one! The ‘00s were not an easy decade for our genitals. I mean, I guess what decade was? But the ‘00s seemed especially rough on the ol’ downstairs. In the ‘90s, who even knew what anyone was doing with their pubic hair?

Hi hi friends. Over the past couple years, I’ve done a lot more thinking about community, what I seek from it, what I wish to bring to it, when I feel the sense of it most strongly. Part of that, I would surmise, is a reaction to the pandemic and having so many of our shared experiences ripped from us for a period of time. But also, I think it’s a factor of growing older, and doing so as a single, child-free person—who at the same time very much enjoys spending a lot of time alone.

There are two things that I’ll always associate the rom-com “Always Be My Maybe” with. One, it’s a movie that reminded me that Keanu Reeves is Asian-American. Two, it gave us a rare heroine who wears glasses throughout the movie for no other reason than just because. Movies tend to have a weird relationship with glasses. It’s odd when you consider the fact that in the U.S., around 65 percent of adult consumers wear prescription glasses, though that figure might grow higher in the coming years because more children are becoming myopic.

Upon starting gleamed back up, it’s been especially fun digging into different aspects of design, whether cultural or historical, without necessarily having to find a “timely hook,” which is always necessary for pitching stories as a freelance journalist. Editors are (rightfully so) obsessed with article ideas to cover things that are already trending—with catchy headlines that readers will definitely click on. The great part of independent journalism is getting to share things simply because they are worth knowing about, not just because they appeal to the masses.

Shout out to our sponsor Wicket Cricket Manager. If you are not playing that game, you are missing out. And also HCLTech. They do data, technology and cricket. Check them out on the Australian team sleeves. For a normal person, getting a half volley outside off, switching your feet, and reverse sweeping a seam bowler for six would be the most incredible thing you do that day. Glenn Maxwell’s shot, but compared to the rest of his innings, it is room-temperature water.

TRAs are saying @AHFdoco is racist, never mind the various racial demographics of the cast, and we're all homophobic despite a load of us being homosexual. Nothing about rapist men assaulting female prisoners of course. Hard to make that disappear by shouting RACIST! at it. ncG1vNJzZmifopa1ornLoqWeoJGje7TBwayrmpubY7CwuY6pZqCkmaO7pr7SZquwoaSpsrN5w5ud

After the release of my recent book ‘Mind Games’, I have been very curious to see who would publicly come out first and try and solidify their story. It appears Gloria Chapman has been chosen to step up to the plate. Speaking predictably on a Christian podcast called, ‘women worth knowing’, Gloria gives away new details about her relationship with Mark Chapman across three episodes and 90 minutes. She gets a very easy ride via the Godly hosts who appear to be more concerned about Gloria finding “Beauty in the ashes” than asking any awkward questions or showing sympathy towards John Lennon or his family.

Next week is the start of Passover, otherwise known as The Week of No Pasta, or my annual forced vacation. I used to dread these eight carb-less days, but now I admit I relish them—no recipes to test, videos to shoot, photos to take. Just me and my matzah, and a few days of writing without interruption. But before pasta and I part ways, I’ll be honoring the pre-Passover tradition of feasting on all of the things I’ll soon give up as if I might never eat them again.