Here's the bow tie:
You know what's chagrinning about my fat pale arms in this pic? How I flinched a little, seeing them in the picture. They're my arms, and they're paste-like and bulbous, and I had to breathe through looking at them. I hate moments like that. But I got through it.
The other day at our copy eds Zoom party our morale guy led us in a game of "Which is my real New Year's resolution, and which is fake". I was happy that not one single person thought my real resolution was to lose weight. That, after all, is what much of the world would assume was my every-year-recurring resolution, and what it should be. I was offering it in a small act of fat activism, but it turned into a moment of feeling known.
Times have such a bizarre flavor, after Trump's gang's assault on the Capitol, and here with uncertainty about how bad the next such gatherings will be, and whether Trump will do some crazy destructive thing, on top of, like, this rash of carrying out executions that he's pushing through. Tonight suddenly Mitch McConnell is signaling openness to impeachment. Like, conviction. This following indications from big business / capital that they're jumping ship.
By the next Bow Tie Tuesday, more will have been revealed, no doubt.
That's kind of a nice curiosity-baiting saying, pulling one into wanting to live on: more will be revealed.