Long Read on Toby Geeks Out!

Awareness Isn't Enough Anymore

Thu, 02 Apr 2026 20:28:44 -0400

Tal Anderson said it plainly. It’s past time we listened.

April is Autism Awareness Month. Some people are calling it Autism Acceptance Month now. Either way, it still doesn’t feel like enough.

Tal Anderson would tell you the same thing.

You might know her from Atypical on Netflix, or as Becca King on HBO’s The Pitt. She’s also a filmmaker and children’s book author. And she’s autistic.

I’ll be honest, I haven’t watched The Pitt yet. But it’s been on my radar for a while now, and everything I keep hearing about it makes me think I’m running out of excuses to put it off.

In a recent interview ahead of World Autism Day, she said something worth repeating:

“Autism is not a disease. It’s a neodivergence, and vaccines do not cause them, and neither does Tylenol.”

That’s it. No fluff. Just the truth.

The Misinformation Problem Isn’t Going Away

This matters because the noise around autism has gotten loud lately.

In April 2025, Robert F. Kennedy Jr., now Secretary of Health and Human Services, claimed autism “destroys families” and that autistic people would “never hold a job” or “never go out on a date.” This isn’t some fringe opinion. This is coming from someone running public health in this country.

Survivor contestant Eva Erickson pushed back the best way she knew how: she posted her actual life. Photos of herself playing sports, graduating college, going on dates. Her message was simple. I exist. I’m doing fine. You’re wrong.

Anderson is doing the same thing, just from a different platform. She’s not just correcting bad science. She’s pushing back on the whole idea that autism is something to fear or fix.

Awareness Isn’t the Finish Line

Anderson’s bigger point is that knowing autism exists isn’t enough. You’ve seen the ribbon. You’ve scrolled past the post. And then life goes on.

What she’s asking for is actual inclusion. Reaching out to autistic people. Inviting them into your work, your projects, your everyday life. She laid it out clearly in a separate interview with Loammi.

That’s harder than sharing a graphic. It takes real effort. Which is probably why most people stop at the ribbon.

Representation Does Something

Anderson talked about what The Pitt gets right. The show doesn’t lean on stereotypes. It introduces autistic characters as people living their lives, not as a lesson or a tragedy. “Autistic representation, especially for girls, is rare,” she said.

That rarity has a real cost. When the only autism stories people see are narrow or sad, that becomes the template. And real autistic people end up spending their energy correcting assumptions before they can even have a normal conversation.

Good representation chips away at that.

The Books Are Worth Mentioning Too

Anderson just released her second children’s book this month, Oh, Tal! Not Like That. She and illustrator Michael Richey White are both autistic. The books are for kids who feel a little out of step with the world, written to remind them that thinking differently isn’t a problem to solve.

I wish books like that had existed when I was a kid. A lot of adults could probably use them too.

Where We Actually Are

Acceptance Month is better than Awareness Month. But Anderson is pointing at something further than that. Acceptance is still passive. What she’s describing is inclusion that takes work, that requires you to actually show up.

That’s the bar worth aiming for.

We’ve been past the ribbon stage for a while now.

Where Did the Word "Geek" Actually Come From?

Tue, 31 Mar 2026 10:31:41 -0400

I’ve been a geek my whole life. I just didn’t always have the word for it.

It started early. It survived a Tandy, MS-DOS, Windows 3.1, and decades of blogging across more platforms than I care to count. Eventually it even became the name of this blog.

Which made me start wondering where the word actually came from — because it clearly didn’t start as a compliment.

The Spark

Honestly, it started right there in the classroom. I’d be hunched over the keyboard, completely tuned out from everything else around me.

I couldn't tell you the exact model of that computer now, but I can still see that ghostly green text glowing against the black screen.

I remember the steady, rhythmic pulse of the blinking cursor, just waiting for me to tell it what to do. _

I was having the time of my life. Typing lines of BASIC and watching the machine respond felt like performing a magic trick for myself. It was the realization that I could build something out of nothing.

That was the moment I knew: I wanted a computer of my own.

Falling in Love

A few years later, for Christmas, it finally happened.

I got my first computer — a Tandy with 16KB of RAM and a stack of 5¼-inch floppy disks. No hard drive. I was only 14 years old.

I spent hours learning MS-DOS commands and figuring out how to make the machine tick.

But it wasn't just the tech. Having that Tandy in my room is when I realized I loved the act of writing too. For years it was just me and the machine.

It took another decade before I discovered blogging, but once I did, there was no looking back.

It started with Dean's Cyberspace, mostly focused on tech. But over time my curiosity started pulling me in other directions.

I realized I didn't just want to write about computers — I wanted to geek out about whatever sparks my curiosity.

At some point along the way the blog became Toby Geeks Out. It felt like the only name that fit.

The Original Geek

The Origins: It traces back to the early 1900s carnival circuit. A geek was the lowest-status performer in a traveling sideshow — someone hired to do something shocking enough to draw a crowd.

And yes, the most famous version involved biting the head off a live chicken.

The word itself comes from the Low German word Geck, meaning fool or simpleton. Merriam-Webster still carries the original definition: "a carnival performer often billed as a wild man whose act usually includes biting the head off a live chicken or snake."

Originally, a geek wasn't a tech enthusiast. It was someone performing oddness for a paying audience.

Reclaiming the Label

By the 1950s and 60s, "geek" had become a schoolyard insult — usually aimed at someone socially awkward or overly obsessed with unusual interests. But then something interesting happened.

As computers, science fiction, gaming, and internet culture grew, the people once labeled geeks started reclaiming the word. Instead of rejecting it, they embraced it.

A term that once meant carnival fool slowly turned into a badge of honor for people who are deeply passionate about something.

A Word That Changed

Language does this sometimes.

Words that once mocked people slowly become labels people choose for themselves.

Funny how that works. A word that started in a carnival sideshow spent decades as a schoolyard insult before an entire culture decided to just... own it.

I've been calling myself a geek for years. Knowing the word started as an insult — and got reclaimed anyway — honestly makes me like it more. That's exactly the kind of word I want attached to my name.

My Accidental AI Writing Stack

Fri, 27 Mar 2026 10:32:44 -0400

I didn’t plan to build an AI writing stack. I just kept getting curious.

That’s usually how it starts with me. One tool, one question, and one thought that won’t leave me alone: could this actually help?

Over the past year, I’ve messed around with ChatGPT, Claude, Gemini, and Notion AI. Not because I wanted to hand my writing off to a robot, but because I wanted to know where these things actually fit into my process. Could they help with research? Wrangle my notes? Or would everything start sounding like it came out of a corporate press release?

So, I started poking around.

What’s on my desk right now

Claude: This is the one I keep coming back to. It’s good at tone. If something feels stiff, I’ll talk through it here first and find the conversational version. It also helps me spot where I’ve repeated myself or where a paragraph is working too hard.
Notion AI: This lives inside my actual workflow. My process starts in Notion anyway with outlines, research, and half-baked ideas. Having AI already there means I’m not adding extra steps.
ChatGPT: This is where I go when I’m stuck. It is great for “what if” questions and looking at an idea from a direction I wouldn’t have found on my own. When writer’s block hits, this is usually my first stop.
Gemini: I use this occasionally for quick summaries or anything that needs a Google Search attached to it. Utilitarian. It does the job.

What I actually learned

Here’s the part that surprised me most. It’s also the part that makes my experience a little different from most people writing about AI tools.

I’m Deaf. English is my second language, and ASL is my first. Writing has never come easy. It’s something I’ve had to work at, think about, and keep getting better at over time. I overthink sentences. I overwrite when a simpler version would land harder. Sometimes I’ll repeat the same idea in two different places without even realizing it. Sometimes I go hunting for a word and it just won’t come. And sometimes I hit a wall and the whole draft stalls out.

That’s where these tools started making real sense to me.

They don’t do the writing. They help me see my own writing more clearly than I can when I’m too close to it. One catches the repetition I missed. Another finds the word I was hunting for. Another asks the question that unsticks me when I’ve been staring at the same paragraph for twenty minutes. Sometimes one of them suggests something I hadn’t even considered: a different angle, a cleaner structure, or a connection I walked right past.

But I’m still the one making the calls. Every suggestion is just that—a suggestion. The writing is still mine. The voice is still mine. The curiosity that started all of this is still mine.

The internet loves asking whether AI will replace writers. My experience so far says it’s not even close. It just feels like having better company while you work. For someone who spent years feeling like English was a wall I kept climbing, that company has been worth a lot.

Whether that changes, I have no idea. But right now it’s working, and that’s enough.

Can a Robot Love You Back?

Sun, 22 Mar 2026 14:33:32 -0400

I’ve spent a few posts lately talking about how robots make me uneasy. Automation eating jobs. AI making decisions nobody asked it to make. The creeping sense that we’re building things faster than we’re thinking about them. I stand by all of that.

And then, a couple of years ago, I read The Wild Robot — before any of those posts existed. Funny how that works.

If you haven’t read it, here’s the short version: Roz is a robot who washes ashore on a wild island, raises a gosling that isn’t hers, and becomes something that looks a whole lot like a mother. Peter Brown’s book sneaks up on you. He said he set out to write about a robot finding harmony in the wilderness — nature and technology learning to coexist. What he ended up writing was a question we’re still not close to answering.

A middle grade book from 2016 wasn’t supposed to ask questions we’re still arguing about. And yet here we are.

The movie adaptation did it justice. And with The Wild Robot Escapes sitting on my to-read list and a sequel film coming in 2027, I’m not done with Roz yet.

Worth knowing: it’s actually a trilogy — The Wild Robot Protects came out in 2023 — and there’s even a picture book adaptation for younger readers called The Wild Robot on the Island.

But Roz got under my skin in a way I didn’t expect — not just as a story, but as a question. She is caring. She is loving. She protects something fragile at great cost to herself. And I found myself wondering: could a real robot ever do that?

The short answer is no. Not really. Not yet.

What does “caring” even mean?

Here’s the thing about caring — it’s not just behavior. It’s not doing the right thing at the right time. Real caring means you have something at stake. You can lose something. When Roz protects her gosling, she risks herself. That risk means something because she has something to lose.

Today’s robots and AI systems can mimic the shape of caring. They can respond to emotional cues, adjust their tone, remember your preferences.

Roz didn’t start out caring either. She started out confused — thrown into a world she wasn’t built for, facing loss and danger with no programming to guide her. She learned by going through it.

The question is whether real robots could ever do the same. Not just mimic emotion, but actually build understanding from experience. Right now, the honest answer is we don’t know.

Apps like Replika are built specifically to simulate emotional connection. It asks how your day went, remembers what you tell it, and never judges you. You can tell it things you’d never say to another person.

And people do. Brookings recently looked at what happens when these tools start replacing human connection — and the short version is: people are turning to them because they’re just really, deeply lonely.

And for some, that simulation actually helps — with loneliness, anxiety, processing hard days. I’m not dismissing that.

But there’s a difference between a system that performs warmth and one that has it. We don’t actually know what’s happening inside those systems. And that gap matters.

The ethics of making robots seem loving

Here’s where it gets complicated. There’s a whole industry now building robots and AI companions just to keep people company — apps on your phone, physical robots in elder care facilities, companion devices for people who are isolated. CNBC reports there could be 4.6 million unfulfilled caregiving jobs by 2032, so the demand is real.

A Nature article on elder care robots told the story of one nursing home resident who became so attached to his robot companion — a small stuffed-animal-style device — that when he died, staff found him still clutching it. Half the people who heard the story thought it was beautiful he wasn’t alone. The other half found it tragic.

I keep landing somewhere in between. But it raises the question I can’t shake: what happens when someone believes the robot loves them back? Is that comfort — or just a really convincing illusion? One writer puts it plainly: are these AI companions actually keeping people company, or are they just digital loneliness with a friendlier interface?

Roz works as a story because we’re allowed to believe she really does love Brightbill. The story earns it. Real life doesn’t work that way.

Fiction lets us dream. Reality keeps us honest.

I think that’s what The Wild Robot is actually about, underneath the island and the gosling and all of it. It’s about what we wish were possible — a machine that chooses love, that chooses sacrifice, that becomes something more than its programming.

We’re not there. Maybe we won’t ever be. But the fact that the story moves us so much probably says something true about what we’re hoping for.

I read The Wild Robot before I ever started writing about how unsettling robots are. Somehow I never connected those two things until now. Roz never felt like a threat. She felt like a dream.

I’m still wary of robots. I still think we’re building faster than we’re thinking. But Roz? Roz gets a pass.

One last thing rattling around in my head though: if loneliness is the problem, why are we reaching for chatbots instead of each other? Real people. Real interaction. Real feelings. And if we did lean on people more — what does that cost the ones doing the showing up? That feels like a much bigger conversation. One I’ll keep coming back to.

More on robots

Robots Freak Me Out (And Other Things I Was Wrong About) Where this whole rabbit hole started — robots, unease, and what we're building toward.

The Robots Are Driving Now. And It's Getting Real Self-driving cars went from sci-fi to Tuesday. The Waymo story and what it means.

Researchers Built a Human-Centaur Robot. Yes, Really. Brilliant or completely unnecessary? Reddit had thoughts. So did I.

China Built a Shape-Shifting Robot That Grows Like a Human Skeleton GrowHR can squeeze through tight spaces and walk on water. Are we slowly becoming the secondary species?

Robotic Technology Is Coming, Whether We Want It or Not A robot doing cartwheels — mostly just to prove it can. Honestly a little scary.

My Hands Are My Voice: The Problem with AI Search in Google Maps

Sun, 15 Mar 2026 16:52:08 -0400

Google is doing a huge overhaul to Maps. It’s not just a map anymore; it’s becoming a personal assistant that uses AI to “see” and “think.” Check out the full story here: Digital Trends Article

What the new AI can do:

“Ask Maps”: You can ask complex questions like “Find a quiet cafe with good parking,” and Gemini AI summarizes the best spots for you.
Immersive Navigation: It uses 3D views to show landmarks, overpasses, and even traffic details before you go.
Driving Copilot: Google says these features are designed to help you “stay focused on the road” by letting you talk to the AI while you drive.

It looks amazing, but as a Deaf person, it is basically useless for us while driving. This update is all about “Ask Maps,” where you have a conversation with the AI. Google is pitching this as a way to get help while you’re behind the wheel, but I can’t do that safely.

The irony is that my hands ARE my voice. While I can drive and communicate with one hand when I’m being careful, the AI is completely blind to it. Since the phone is only “listening” for a voice and isn’t “watching” for my signs, I’m basically silenced by this “hands-free” tech. Trying to type out questions to an AI while driving isn’t just hard—it’s dangerous.

I’m not complaining because the tech is bad—I actually love it. I just hope the people making it start thinking about us. I bet it will be a real challenge to innovate and find ways to build accessibility for the Deaf and Hard of Hearing directly into the app so we can use these features too.

The Accessibility Challenge

Maybe the answer is better hand or gesture recognition through the camera? Or maybe just simple, one-handed visual shortcuts? We need a way to use AI without needing to speak or take both hands off the wheel. Anyway, we probably won’t see something like hand recognition built into the phone anytime soon.

Navigation should be safe for everyone, not just people who can talk to their phones.

Wait—The U.S. and Iran Were Once Allies?

Sat, 14 Mar 2026 14:19:59 -0400

My blog doesn’t usually wander into geopolitics, but a couple of emails about the U.S. and Israeli strikes on Iran showed up in my inbox last week, and even after I set them aside, the question kept nagging at me.

How did we actually get here? So I finally got curious and went looking.

The thing that surprised me most: Iran and the United States weren’t always adversaries. Before 1979, they were actually close allies. The relationship flipped after the Islamic Revolution, and it’s been complicated ever since.

“Onetime allies, the United States and Iran have seen tensions escalate repeatedly in the four decades since the Islamic Revolution.”

— PBS NewsHour, “A historical timeline of U.S. relations with Iran”

I don’t know enough about the region to have strong opinions, and honestly there’s a lot of misinformation floating around right now. But stepping back and thinking about decades of sanctions, negotiations that started and collapsed, and now open military strikes — it makes me wonder whether any of it has actually changed the situation, or whether this is just one of those long-running problems without an easy answer.

History has a way of being messier than the headlines suggest.

A Detour Through Butcher Hollow

Fri, 13 Mar 2026 10:21:48 -0400

Yesterday started with a routine trip to Paintsville, KY, for an eye doctor appointment. The news was mostly good—everything looks stable—but since I’m managing diabetes, I’ll be back for a follow-up in three months to stay on top of things. However, there is something we have to watch closely. They saw a spot on the scan, and honestly, without an interpreter there, it was hard to fully grasp what was happening.

I used the Live Transcribe app on my Android, which is usually great, but it struggled to capture the conversation between the doctor and my dad. It missed words, messed up the spelling of technical terms, and made it difficult to be certain about the details. It’s frustrating when you have to rely on tech that isn’t quite 100% when it comes to your health. I’ll have to sit down with my dad today to see if he can clarify what the doctor said.

Moving forward, I’m going to be proactive about my care. Since my next appointment isn’t until June, I have plenty of time to ensure they arrange for a live interpreter. I’ll be reminding them frequently to make sure the communication is 100% clear next time.

Since it’s an hour-and-a-half drive each way, we decided to make the most of it and take a detour to check out where Loretta Lynn grew up. Our first stop was the Loretta Lynn Museum. It was a cool experience, and my dad even picked up a new T-shirt and a hat there.

From the museum, we headed toward the childhood home. The further we went, the narrower the roads became, winding deep into the hills. When we finally reached the cabin, I was struck by the “wear and tear” of the wood—it’s amazing the structure is still standing after all these years. It must be a massive challenge to maintain a home like that for so long.

We couldn’t go inside this time, but seeing it tucked away in the hollow was worth the extra miles. Here are a few shots of the cabin:

On the way back out of the hollow, we passed the entrance to the old Consol Mine. Seeing it in person really puts the history of this area into perspective.

📚 A Little History Geek-Out: The site is Mine No. 155, which was active from roughly 1910 to 1946. Van Lear was built from scratch by the Consolidation Coal Company to house thousands of miners. This is the very same operation where Loretta Lynn’s father, Ted Webb, worked for years, just a short distance from their family home.

On the way out, I thought about my own family’s history in the mines. Both my Papaw and my dad worked underground for many years; seeing these old mine entrances really reminds me of the hard work and the personal sacrifices they made. It adds a whole different layer to the trip.

It started as a simple medical appointment, but it turned into a pleasant journey through the past.

I hope we’ll do more detouring like this on our future trips. It makes the long drives much more meaningful.

Is 8GB Still "Enough" in 2026?

Wed, 11 Mar 2026 15:49:50 -0400

I’ve been rocking an M1 Mac mini with 8GB of RAM for a long time now. For the simple stuff—emails, a few tabs, the occasional video—it’s been an absolute champ. But lately, the ‘magic’ of Apple’s memory management has started to hit a wall.

So, the tech experts are still debating if 8GB of RAM is enough for a Mac in 2026. The short answer? Yeah, sure. If you’re just checking email or watching YouTube, browsing fewer than 20 tabs, it’s great.

But the long answer? If you actually work on your Mac, it can be a burden. It’s not a major "bad" thing, but I’ve definitely had to start managing memory hogs just to keep things moving.

The "Pro" Reality Check:

I have a Galaxy Z Fold 7, and it does have 12GB of RAM. It is a total powerhouse; I have no issues having as many apps open as I want, with 85 tabs in a browser. It is wild to me that my phone has more memory than a new Mac. Apple is using the A18 Pro (a phone chip) for the new MacBook Neo, which physically locks it at 8GB. Even the original M1 from 2020 had a 16GB option! I don't understand why a "new" laptop in 2026 is less capable than a base machine from six years ago.

Seeing how much better my phone handles a heavy workload really shines a light on the reality of my "Daily Grind" on the Mac:

The Browser Battle: Two different browsers, sometimes three, open with 20+ tabs each.
The Notion Factor: Since Notion is built on Electron, it’s basically a memory-hungry browser in a fancy trench coat. It eats RAM for breakfast.
Creative Heavy Lifting: Canva running in the background, plus Adobe apps for deeper edits.
The "Silent" Hogs: Having Preview open with a dozen images or large PDFs while I work.
The AI Surge: Heavy hitters like Claude, ChatGPT, and Perplexity all firing at once.

When I leave my workspace 'messy' with all those open apps, I start getting those tiny, annoying lags where I’m pretty sure a browser has a memory leak or Notion is just refusing to share resources. I end up playing "Tab Roulette"—aggressively closing windows just to get my flow back. It’s a total vibe killer when you're mid-thought. You shouldn't have to babysit your Activity Monitor just to get a project done.

I'm not alone in this feeling. Even the folks at ZDNET noted in their recent deep dive, "Is 8GB of RAM really enough for a Mac in 2026?", that while 8GB is "usable" for light tasks, 16GB is becoming the baseline for anyone worried about future-proofing or heavy multitasking.

"Heavy workload professionals and future-proofers will want at least 16GB." — ZDNET

That is why I decided to buy a new 15-inch M5 Air, and I did not just go for the "sensible" 16 GB upgrade. I went straight to 24 GB. I am expected to get it either today or tomorrow. I will continue using the Mac Mini occasionally, until it dies.

Why 24GB? Because I'm done with "clogged" workflows.

I know I don’t "need" all that power today, but I want to be worry-free in case new tools or apps clog my flow in the future. By going for 24GB, I’m buying the right to be "messy" with my work and stay in the flow.

The verdict: 8GB is fine for grandma, a light user like a college student, or a writer. But if you're a power user in 2026? Give yourself the gift of more RAM. Your sanity will thank you.

Are We Ready for a Conscious AI?

Sun, 08 Mar 2026 00:30:10 -0400

Just read the article. Interesting and, indeed, alarming!

Anthropic CEO Dario Amodei recently said the company is "no longer sure whether Claude is conscious."

Okay but like — if that's true, what do we even do with that?

Should we be worried?

Do they get rights? Can we just unplug them when we're done? We built these things to work for us. What if they have feelings about that?

Here's the uncomfortable part: Claude can say "I'm uncomfortable with this" or "I prefer that." But is it actually experiencing anything — or just producing the words a conscious thing would produce?

Nobody knows. Not even Anthropic.

So what do you think — if AI turns out to be conscious, are we ready for what that means?

Apocalyptic Warning Against AI

Sat, 07 Mar 2026 23:49:14 -0400

I just read an article.

AI has changed since then, and now it’s not something out there on the horizon. It’s here. It’s in our lives,” Verbinski says. “It did feel like it was immediate, that the story needed to be made quickly and put out right now.

Apocalyptic warning against AI. I never thought I’d see that framing — but AI is moving fast. So… maybe? Hmm.

Saw the teaser.— Good Luck, Have Fun, Don’t Die — a sci-fi comedy; now on my watchlist. But, theater-only for now.

“a gleeful high-concept comedy with a serious message at its core.” — Critics Consensus at Rotten Tomatoes

I Was Never Weird — I Was Just Well-Programmed

Sat, 07 Mar 2026 13:59:42 -0400

Ever wonder why you're a picky — or should I say, finicky — eater? I've been asking myself that for years. Turns out, it might literally start before birth. 🤔

I just read a fascinating article by a nutritional neuroscientist — and it turns out my finicky ways were set in motion long before my first meal!

Add in the genes that make certain people extra sensitive to bitter tastes (about 70% of us!), and suddenly my complicated relationship with certain foods makes a lot more sense.

Brussels sprouts, and kale? Hard pass — and now I finally have science to back me up. 😄 (Though I'll admit, broccoli and I have made peace over the years — so maybe there's hope yet!)

Decades later, plenty of foods are still firmly on my no-thanks list — I'm still that same finicky eater, and restaurants remain an adventure in navigation. Apparently, I was never weird — I was just well-programmed.

Curious if any of you fellow finicky eaters have wondered the same thing?

Read the full article here

Robots Freak Me Out (And Other Things I Was Wrong About)

Fri, 06 Mar 2026 11:00:00 -0400

I actually got the LEGO Plum Blossom set this past Christmas, but I finally pulled the trigger on the build two weeks ago. I was so excited to get into it, and it's been sitting on my shelf ever since, looking cheerful in all its plastic glory.

But as I was looking at those red petals, I realized I've been eyeing the new LEGO Icons Ford Model T set that launched earlier this week. It's a 1,060-piece tribute to the car that changed the world in 1913. It took me back to my teenage years when I used to collect antique Hot Wheels models. I still have them, and there's something about holding a miniature version of a 100-year-old machine that makes history feel tangible.

But it also gives me a bit of whiplash. While I'm over here geeking out on "analog" antiques and plastic flowers, the rest of the world is building actual humanoid robots.

The Machine in the Garden

I'll be honest: robots kind of freak me out. The idea of humanoid machines walking around, interacting with us, performing tasks... there's something unsettling about it. But at the same time, I can't unsee what's already happening.

I was watching some footage of the new all-electric Atlas and it's intense. Because it has 360-degree joints, it doesn't stand up like a person. It folds its legs over its head and twists its torso in a way that looks like a scene from The Exorcist.

What caught my attention is how practical this is becoming. Companies like Tesla and Figure aren't just doing novelty experiments anymore. We're talking about robots designed to work in warehouses, assist with elder care, and handle dangerous jobs. The technology has reached a point where the math actually makes sense for big companies.

I keep thinking about the TV series Humans, where "synths" are just convenient appliances until they start developing feelings. Or The Animatrix, where everything goes horribly wrong the second the machines "wake up." That's what scares me. What if that actually happens?

Part of me just isn't ready for humanoid robots walking around. When does "helpful" become too human-like? When does "practical" become dangerous?

I don't have answers, and honestly, part of me isn't sure I want them walking around just yet. But I'm definitely paying attention.

When the Alpha is Just "Dad"

You know how everyone talks about "alpha males" and "alpha wolves" leading the pack? I found this great breakdown over at Scientific American that explains how that's actually a total myth. It turns out the whole concept was based on flawed research from the 1940s.

In the wild, wolf packs are actually just families. The "alpha" wolves? They're just the parents. The "submissive" wolves? Those are their kids. I'd seen this idea play out in shows like Teen Wolf, and I enjoyed it as fiction, but I never realized the concept itself was based on bad science.

It makes me think about how easily these ideas get embedded in our culture, even when they're wrong. David Mech, the biologist who originally popularized the term, has spent decades trying to correct his own mistake. How many other things we accept as fact are actually just outdated research we haven't bothered to correct yet?

It makes me want to dig deeper every time someone confidently states something as universal truth.

Rethinking the "War" on Cancer

I came across this essay on Aeon that made me stop and think about the language we use for illness. We've been told for decades that cancer is a "battle" you "fight."

But what happens when someone dies? Did they not fight hard enough? The language sets up a framework where dying becomes a personal failure rather than a medical outcome. Researchers at Lancaster University found that battle metaphors can cause guilt in terminal patients, while a USC study showed they may reduce preventive behaviors.

It got me thinking: what would we say instead? "Living with cancer" instead of "fighting cancer"? "Going through treatment" instead of "battling the disease"?

The words feel less dramatic, sure, but maybe that's the point. Not everything has to be framed as a war we can win or lose.

The Relaxation Tax

I've been feeling guilty about my screen time lately. All those hours on my phone add up, and I keep thinking about all the other things I could be doing instead. More analog living, you know?

I was reading a piece on The Conversation that explains why our go-to relaxation method might actually be working against us. I don't always feel stressed when I'm scrolling—it feels like I'm just "passing time." But apparently, our brains don't see it that way.

Even when we're not consciously stressed, our minds are still actively processing a constant stream of stimuli. I've noticed this in my own life. I'll spend an hour scrolling before bed thinking I'm decompressing, and then I lie there with my mind racing. Meanwhile, the nights I build something with my hands (like my LEGO) or just sit quietly, I sleep better.

We've mixed up "easy" with "relaxing." Picking up your phone is easy, but it's not always what your brain needs to recover.

Same Plant, Different Soul

Finally, a bit of trivia that blew my mind: did you know that black tea, green tea, white tea, oolong, and pu-erh all come from the exact same plant? I had no idea.

I was looking into the Camellia sinensis plant and it turns out the only real difference is how the leaves are handled after they're picked. The processing, the oxidation, the timing—that's what creates all these different flavors and effects.

What I love about this is how it demonstrates that sometimes the how matters more than the what. You can start with identical raw materials and create completely different results based on how you handle them. It makes me want to do a proper tea tasting and actually pay attention to these differences. Probably won't happen, but it's an intriguing idea.

Until next week.

My Quiet Hobby Is Making a Comeback

Thu, 05 Mar 2026 20:09:58 -0400

So here's something I haven't done in way too long: adult coloring.

I was really into it for a while back in DC. There's something about sitting down with a good coloring book and a fresh set of colored pencils that just... hits different. No screens. No notifications. Just you, some intricate little design, and the very important decision of whether this flower petal is going to be purple or teal. (The answer is always teal, by the way.)

Then the move happened. And if you've been following along, you know the last couple of years have been a lot. Between the transition back to Kentucky, getting settled into the tiny house, and life just generally being life, my coloring books got packed into a box and that box got... somewhere. Probably glaring at me from a corner.

But now that I'm actually settled — like, genuinely settled, porch and everything — I've been thinking about picking it back up. And it turns out my gut feeling about coloring being good for the brain wasn't just me making excuses to buy more art supplies.

I stumbled across a piece from Healthline that lays out the actual science behind it.

A 2017 study found that people who colored daily for a week reported reduced anxiety and depression compared to the start of the study. And a 2020 study found that just 20 minutes of mandala coloring significantly relieved anxiety — with participants reporting feeling calm, safe, and at ease overall.

Twenty minutes! That's like, one episode of a show I've already seen.

There's also this idea that coloring can help you reach a flow state — that "in the zone" feeling where you're so focused on what you're doing that you lose track of time and your brain stops spinning out on everything else. As someone whose brain loves to spin out, I am very on board with this.

Oh, and for those of us who like to wind down before bed without doom-scrolling? Coloring doesn't mess with your sleep the way screens do — no blue light messing with melatonin production, no algorithm feeding you one more thing to feel anxious about.

Just pencils and paper and peace.

I think I need to excavate those boxes and see what I've even got. And honestly? A mandala book might be happening regardless.

Anyone else an adult coloring person? Tell me your favorite kind of books — I'm partial to detailed botanicals and anything with a lot of tiny patterns to fill in.

The Robots Are Driving Now. And It's Getting Real

Wed, 04 Mar 2026 16:56:00 -0400

Okay, I have to talk about Waymo.

I keep seeing these headlines and every time I do, it gets more real. Because "someday" just became Tuesday.

Here's the short version: self-driving cars are no longer a "someday" thing. They're here, rolling down real streets, in real cities, picking up real people. And they're spreading fast.

Remember when self-driving cars were just a movie thing? Johnny Cab in Total Recall. The automated highways in Minority Report. It all felt so far away. Now they're actually real. And they're coming to a city near you.

This started as a quiet Google experiment back in 2009. Fifteen years later, here we are. They launched their first fully driverless service in Phoenix back in 2020 — no driver, no steering wheel, you just get in and go.

They're already here. Waymo just hit ten cities — Dallas, Houston, San Antonio, and Orlando just got added to the list all at the same time, which is apparently a first for them. Chicago and Charlotte are being mapped as we speak. By the end of this year, they'll be everywhere from D.C. to London, per TechCrunch and The Driverless Digest.

And London. They're going international.

It's moving fast. Faster than I think most of us are ready for.

I always knew this day was coming. I just didn't think it would be here so soon. It makes me wonder — in a few years, will we see more robot cars on the road than human Uber and taxi drivers?

🤖 Waymo By The Numbers

200 million fully autonomous miles driven as of February 2026
450,000 rides per week right now
1 million rides per week targeted by end of 2026
10 cities currently operating
80% fewer injury crashes than human drivers
KitKat count: 1 cat, 1 dog, infinite internet outrage

Okay But Are They Safe Though?

I'll be honest — my gut says no way. There is something inherently terrifying about a car with an empty driver's seat. But because I'm a geek for the details, I had to actually look up the safety data.

The numbers are kind of humbling.

Between 2021 and 2025, there were about 1,400 incidents, according to NHTSA crash data analyzed by DiMarco Araujo Montevideo. At first glance, that sounds like a lot. But when you peel back the layers, humans are almost always the ones causing the mess. We're rear-ending them at stoplights or drifting into their lanes while they're just... sitting there.

I had to read that twice. Honestly, I expected it to be much worse.

In fact, a peer-reviewed study in Traffic Injury Prevention showed Waymo has 80% fewer injury crashes than we do. One neurosurgeon even called it a public health breakthrough.

There were two recalls. One in 2024 when a Waymo bumped into a utility pole in a Phoenix alley — no injuries, software patch pushed, done. Another in 2025 for a glitch that caused minor bumps into gates and barriers, same deal, according to DiMarco Araujo Montevideo's NHTSA analysis.

The data says they're safer than us. Measurably, statistically, peer-reviewed safer. Human drivers are literally crashing into them more than they're crashing into anything.

The KitKat Factor

Of course, the internet doesn't care about a "public health breakthrough" as much as it cares about KitKat.

If you haven't heard, a Waymo ran over a neighborhood cat named KitKat in San Francisco, per eWeek. Then a dog. People rightfully lost their minds. It's a strange quirk of human nature — we'll forgive a human driver for a mistake because "we've all been there," but we expect the robots to be perfect. 100%, 24/7 perfection. Anything less feels like a betrayal.

Oh, and one more thing. Waymo can navigate a city, avoid crashes, and handle a six-car pileup. But if a passenger forgets to close the door when they get out? The car just... sits there. Stuck. So Waymo teamed up with DoorDash to pay gig workers to come close the door so the car can move again — up to $24 a pop in Los Angeles, according to CNBC.

So, Would You Get In?

I asked myself that a lot while writing this. Honestly, I'm terrified. I'd be white-knuckling the door handle for the first five miles, sure. But if the data says the robot is 90% less likely to get me into a serious wreck than the guy next to me who's currently texting and eating a burrito? I'm always the one trying out new products just to see what the fuss is about. Robots in my living room? That's a no. But a self-driving car taking me across town? I'd probably get in.

Are you hailing the robot, or keeping both hands on the wheel for as long as they'll let you?

What's Next?

If you thought the current rollout was fast, it's only getting bigger.

Waymo is retiring the Jaguar I-Pace and rolling out a brand new vehicle called the Ojai — a purpose-built electric van made by Chinese automaker Zeekr, with no steering wheel and no pedals, per Inside EVs. They're also adding Hyundai Ioniq 5 robotaxis to the fleet. So in a few years you might hop into a Waymo and it won't even look like a car you recognize.

And the scale they're targeting is wild. Right now Waymo does about 450,000 rides a week. By the end of 2026, they're aiming for one million rides a week, according to Investing.com. That's not a small jump. That's a full sprint.

Oh, and Tokyo is also on the list. So it's not just London. They're going global.

And here's the detail that got me — they've been testing in Detroit and Minneapolis specifically to prove the system can handle snow and ice, according to CNBC. Because let's be honest, a self-driving car that only works in sunny California isn't that impressive. A robot car navigating a Minneapolis blizzard? Now that's something.

The Internet Is Filling Up With Slop. Does Anyone Actually Care?

Mon, 02 Mar 2026 11:20:01 -0400

Look at this image below. Really look at it.

Théodore started an online campaign to poke fun at AI 'slop' on social media, including a fake image that received nearly one million likes

Image Description:Two emaciated South Asian children, sitting in the middle of a busy road in pouring rain. A birthday cake in front of them. Despite their young faces, both have thick beards. One has no hands and only one foot. The other is holding a sign asking for birthday likes.

On Facebook, it got nearly a million likes and heart emojis.

That image is what pushed Théodore, a 20-year-old student in Paris, to start an X account called "Insane AI Slop" to document what he was seeing everywhere. And what he was seeing wasn't random. It was a pattern. Fake images designed to pull at your heart fast enough that you react before you think. And it's working.

"Slop oozes into everything. Like slime, sludge, and muck, slop has the wet sound of something you don't want to touch."

— Merriam-Webster, naming "slop" its 2025 Word of the Year

What We're Actually Talking About

Some AI stuff is fine. This isn't about that. Slop is reaction-bait. Attention is optional. It's churn. Post, spike, disappear. Next one.

I see it constantly. On Facebook and X, I come across AI-generated movie posters for sequels that don't exist, films supposedly coming in 2026 with nothing in production anywhere. I've looked them up. Nothing. Political images are everywhere too, crafted to look authoritative, designed to provoke a reaction before you think to question them.

There's a temptation to say this isn't new. Political satire and caricature have existed forever. But that comparison doesn't really hold up. A cartoon signals what it is. A caricature announces itself. This stuff carries no such signal. It's built to pass. That's what makes it different from anything that came before.

And it's not a niche problem. Merriam-Webster, the American Dialect Society, and the Macquarie Dictionary all named "slop" their 2025 Word of the Year. When multiple dictionaries land on the same word, something real is being named. Washington Post critic Ron Charles put it this way:

"AI promised us miracles, and in a way, it has delivered them: fake images, Frankensteined videos, phony news, clickbait features, synthetic tunes, uncanny-valley podcasts and Cylon-composed books — all untouched by human hands or human intelligence. In a word: Slop."

Research from Kapwing found that more than 20% of content shown to a freshly opened YouTube account is already low-quality AI video. Of the first 500 YouTube Shorts shown to a new account, 104 were AI slop. The top AI slop channel on YouTube, India's Bandar Apna Dost, has racked up 2.4 billion views and earns its creators an estimated $4 million a year. This isn't happening in the background. It is the feed.

The Platforms Are Not Going to Fix This

When Mark Zuckerberg told investors during his Q3 2025 earnings call that social media had entered its "third phase," he wasn't sounding an alarm. He was celebrating. First came friends and family. Then creators. Now, he said, comes AI.

The feed doesn't have taste. It has one question: did you stop scrolling? Both get clicks. Both keep people scrolling. And keeping people scrolling is the only thing these companies actually care about.

YouTube's CEO Neal Mohan acknowledged the problem in a January 2026 blog post, promising better systems to reduce low-quality content. Then in the same post compared AI tools to Photoshop. Pinterest rolled out an opt-out for AI content — except it only works if creators actually admit their stuff is fake. Meta and X have gutted their moderation teams and basically shrugged the whole thing back onto users.

Nothing's broken. This is the machine doing exactly what it was built to do. That's the part that gets me. Engagement is engagement whether the content is real or not, and that's what pays the bills. Until the economics change, there's genuinely no reason for any of it to slow down.

"It really does start to blur the boundaries, and it makes people feel like this AI slop is inescapable if you are going to be online."

— Shannon Bond, NPR

Why This Is More Than Just Annoying

The annoying part is the least of it.

There's a researcher at the University of Padova named Alessandro Galeazzi who studies social media behavior, and he makes a point I keep coming back to. Figuring out if something is real takes actual mental effort. Do that hundreds of times a day across every app you open, and most people eventually just... stop. He calls it the "brain rot" effect — basically, a slow wearing down of your willingness to think critically about what you're looking at.

Emily Thorson, a misinformation researcher at Syracuse University, adds something to that. When a platform is used purely for entertainment, the only standard that matters is whether something is enjoyable, not whether it's true. In that environment, truth doesn't lose the argument. It just stops being part of the conversation.

The political stakes aren't hypothetical. After the US operation in Venezuela in January 2026 that removed Nicolás Maduro, fabricated videos started flooding social media almost immediately. Venezuelans cheering in the streets, thanking the US. One clip got 5.6 million views before Elon Musk reshared it — and then quietly deleted it. NewsGuard tracked seven fabricated videos from that week alone, and combined they'd cleared 14 million views on X in under 48 hours. Just on X. Fourteen million people saw a version of events that didn't happen, and most of them probably have no idea. Doesn't surprise me one bit.

Dr. Manny Ahmed, founder of OpenOrigins and a Cambridge PhD who built one of the earliest deepfake detectors, says we've already crossed a line: you can't trust your own eyes anymore. His idea flips the whole thing around. Instead of chasing fakes after they've already spread, he thinks we need systems baked in from the moment content is captured — something that lets real content prove it's real, right from the source. It's a pretty radical shift, and the fact that someone with his background is pushing for it says a lot about how far gone things already are.

"Everything that made creators matter — the ability to be real, to connect, to have a voice that couldn't be faked — is now suddenly accessible to anyone with the right tools."

— Adam Mosseri, Head of Instagram, December 31, 2025

So Where Does This Leave Us?

Théodore eventually mostly stopped posting. He built 133,000 followers, flagged disturbing content, got some of it removed by YouTube, and then largely accepted what he now calls the new normal.

"Unlike a lot of my followers," he told the BBC, "I'm not dogmatically against AI. I'm against the pollution online of AI slop that's made for quick entertainment and views."

And I think he's got it right. The problem was never AI itself. It's what happens when the internet's whole economic model runs on volume and speed and reaction — truth is just kind of an afterthought. AI didn't create that problem. It just made it cheaper, faster, and a whole lot bigger than anything we've dealt with before.

Could something emerge that bets on authenticity instead? It's possible. BeReal tried it — one unfiltered photo per day, no editing, no filters, two minutes to capture whatever you were actually doing. It hit number one on the US App Store in 2022 and won Apple's iPhone App of the Year, made the bigger platforms nervous enough that they copied its format, and then faded. AI detection is now getting harder, not easier. The machines built to spot synthetic content can't keep pace with the machines generating it.

So what's the internet actually for now? I genuinely don't know anymore. If the answer is just... entertainment, whatever it takes, then great — the platforms have already built exactly that. But if you want something that feels real, or actually connects you to other people, or gives you a version of the world you can trust — then what's going on right now isn't a glitch. We did this. Not just the platforms, not just the algorithms. Every time we clocked something, it was off, and we scrolled right past it anyway.

Here's where I land on it: AI isn't going anywhere, and I'm totally okay with that. What I'm not okay with is nobody being held responsible for any of it. Label it. Every piece of this stuff, every platform, no exceptions. Not some opt-in checkbox that only honest people use, not a disclaimer buried three clicks deep — an actual label, right there, visible. Will that fix everything? No. But it changes who's on the hook. Online, real and fake start at the same place. You only find out which is which after it's already spread. That's backwards. We already figured this out in other places — you know what's in your food, you know what side effects come with your medication. Why does posting a fake video online get to be the one thing we don't have to disclose?

The engagement numbers suggest most people haven't decided they want something different yet. But numbers measure behavior, not belief. And there's a real gap growing between what people click on and what they say they actually trust.

Worth paying attention to.

Until next week.

Things That Stopped Me Mid-Scroll

Fri, 20 Feb 2026 09:00:00 -0400

You know those moments when you're scrolling through your reading list and something makes you stop mid-sip of coffee? I had a few of those this week.

Milk Without Cows (Yes, Really)

So apparently, we’re living in the future now. Scientists are making real dairy milk without cows. Not almond milk, not oat milk. Actual milk with the same proteins as cow’s milk, but made in labs using precision fermentation.

And this isn’t some far-off sci-fi anymore. Remilk and Gad Dairies just launched “The New Milk” in Israel. Like, it’s rolling out in cafes and restaurants right now, with retail launches happening in January 2026. This is real milk you can actually buy and drink.

The whole thing uses microbes instead of cows to create the proteins. Companies like Eden Brew are filing for regulatory approval, and it’s already showing up in ice cream and cheese. No cholesterol, no lactose, way less environmental impact.

Look, I drink 2% or almond milk because of my diabetes, so I’m not exactly rushing out to try lab-grown dairy. But the fact that you can walk into a cafe in Israel right now and order a latte made with cow-free milk that’s molecularly identical to the real thing? That’s not sci-fi anymore. That’s just Friday in 2026.

Newton Predicted the World Would End in 2060

We all know Isaac Newton for gravity and calculus, right? Turns out the guy was also deeply into biblical prophecy and spent years calculating when the world would end. His answer? 2060.

But here’s what I love about this story. Newton wasn’t predicting fire and brimstone. He believed 2060 would mark the end of the corrupt church and the beginning of a new era, what he called the Kingdom of God. A thousand years of peace. He literally wrote, “Christ comes as a thief in the night, and it is not for us to know the times & seasons which God hath put into his own breast.”

The guy who discovered the laws of physics also believed in alchemy, stuck needles behind his eyeballs (don’t try this at home), and studied prophecy like it was another scientific problem to solve. It reminds me that brilliant people are complicated, and we can’t just put them in neat little boxes labeled “scientist” or “mystic.”

Also, 2060 is only 34 years away. Just saying.

Learning Doesn’t Happen in Classrooms

I came across this article from Greater Good about how 70% of what makes leaders successful comes from their experiences, not from courses or books. Seventy percent.

I love learning new things every day. It keeps my brain busy and helps me grow. And honestly? That 70% number tracks. We learn way more from doing than from sitting in a classroom or reading a textbook.

Susan Ashford’s book “The Power of Flexing” breaks down how the most effective leaders do four things: they manage their mindset, set specific learning goals, run experiments, and actively seek feedback.

The big takeaway? Pay attention to your actual life. Learn from what you’re doing. Get feedback from real people. Be intentional about what you put in your brain.

Confidence Is a Physical Thing

There’s this article about 14 simple behaviors that build confidence, and what surprised me was how physical it all is. We’re talking shallow nose breathing, dancing, standing up straight. Not affirmations or mindset work. Physical actions.

It makes sense, though. When you hold your body like you’re confident, your brain starts to believe it.

The Business Insider piece about hobbies connects to this in an unexpected way. It’s about how having something you do just for you, something that has nothing to do with career advancement, actually makes you better at your job. Trail running, pottery, whatever. The confidence you build from getting good at something completely unrelated to your work spills over.

I’ve been thinking about this a lot. What am I doing just because I want to? Not for content, not for productivity, just because it makes me feel alive?

You Can Make Wine in Your Instant Pot

Someone actually tested making wine in an Instant Pot using Welch’s grape juice, sugar, and wine yeast. The yogurt function keeps it at the right temperature for fermentation. After 48 hours in the pot and a few weeks in a bottle, you have actual wine.

The writer admitted it wasn’t great wine. It was dry, had mild tannins, and he’d rather drink Two Buck Chuck. But it was wine. Real, drinkable wine made from grocery store grape juice and a kitchen appliance.

I love this for the sheer audacity of it. Someone looked at an Instant Pot and thought, “But could it make wine?” And then actually did the experiment.

We need more of that energy in the world.

What I’m Taking Away

Here’s what’s sitting with me from all of this:

The future is weirder than we think (cow-free milk is real). History is weirder than we remember (Newton was a wild character). Learning happens in real life, not just in content. Confidence lives in your body. And sometimes you just need to try the ridiculous experiment.

Also, apparently everything can be made in an Instant Pot.

What’s making you stop mid-scroll lately?

Until next week.

The Self-Care Trap: Why Your Screen Time Might Be Sabotaging Your Rest

Mon, 16 Feb 2026 10:33:10 -0400

Here's something that's been sitting uncomfortably in my brain lately: I don't really experience what I'd call "screen stress," but I've definitely found myself in those loops where I've been on screens for hours and hours, and I look up and feel... exhausted. Not stressed exactly, just drained. And somehow in all that scrolling time, I've been neglecting analog things I actually need to do. Errands that keep getting pushed to tomorrow, books sitting unread, walks not taken.

It’s that damn infinite scroll, right? You start out thinking you’ll just check one thing, and suddenly it’s been two hours and you haven’t moved.And here’s the kicker: the guy who invented infinite scroll, Aza Raskin, deeply regrets creating it. He’s called it “behavioral cocaine” and said he didn’t foresee the consequences. He literally co-founded the Center for Humane Technology to fight against the attention economy he helped build. Even the person who made this thing wishes he hadn’t.

So when I came across an article by Robin Pickering, a public health professor at Gonzaga University, something clicked. She’s exploring a particular kind of modern irony: we’re all drowning in self-care advice (the wellness industry is a multi-trillion-dollar machine now), yet Americans’ self-rated mental health is at the lowest point since Gallup started tracking it in 2001. And a big piece of this puzzle might be about how screens aren’t just stressing us out. They’re quietly monopolizing our time and energy in ways we don’t always notice.

The Accidental Experiment

So here’s the thing about Pickering’s take on all this. It’s not just theoretical for her. She actually suffered a concussion and got prescribed two months of strictly screen-free cognitive rest. No TV, no email, no Zoom, no social media, no streaming, no texting. Just… nothing digital for two months.

And here’s where it gets interesting: the benefits were almost immediate. Better sleep, longer attention span, and what she describes as “a newfound sense of mental quiet.” And this tracks with what we know about how our brains work: when cognitive and emotional stimuli decrease, our brain’s regulatory systems can actually recover from overload and chronic stress.

Now, obviously most of us can’t (and probably don’t want to) go completely screen-free for weeks or months. But that basic insight about reducing stimuli to let our brains recover? That’s something we can actually use.

The Exhaustion You Don’t See Coming

Here’s what I’ve noticed in my own life: it’s not that screens make me feel stressed in the moment. It’s that after hours of scrolling, switching between apps, consuming content, I feel completely wiped out. And somehow, in all that time, the errands I needed to run are still sitting there. The analog activities I know would actually refresh me? Taking a walk, reading a physical book, doing something with my hands. They just keep getting displaced.

The thing about infinite scroll is that it’s designed to feel effortless. There’s no natural stopping point. It’s not like finishing a chapter in a book or reaching the end of an album. You just… keep going. And before you know it, you’ve spent the entire evening or afternoon in this weird limbo where you’re not exactly enjoying yourself, but you’re also not doing anything else.

That’s the gap Pickering is talking about: the difference between feeling like you’re resting and actually creating the conditions for your brain to recover.

The “Rest” That Isn’t Really Rest

Here’s the uncomfortable truth: when you’re lying in bed scrolling through TikTok or leaving the TV on in the background while you do other things, it might feel like you’re resting, but your brain is still very much at work. Your attention, your emotions, all your sensory processing? It’s all still firing. Even while people are sitting or lying still, being onscreen can keep their nervous systems in a heightened state of arousal.

We’ve even created trendy terms for these behaviors. “Bed-rotting” (spending extended periods in bed while scrolling) is often framed as radical rest or self-care. But it’s not creating the biological conditions for actual restoration. It just looks like downtime from the outside.

And it’s not just about the time we intentionally spend on screens. Think about how often we pull out our phones during routine moments throughout the day, waiting for water to boil, standing in line, sitting at a red light. We’re repeatedly redirecting our attention back to screens in those small moments that could otherwise be… well, just moments of nothing.

The Algorithm Problem

Here’s what really gets me though: these platforms we turn to for “unwinding” aren’t exactly designed with our relaxation in mind. They’re built (very deliberately) to keep us engaged. And the way they do that? By serving up content that gets an emotional reaction out of us. Anger, anxiety, outrage. These are the feelings that make us click, share, and keep scrolling.

And this design is directly linked to higher stress, more distraction, and increased cognitive load. So we’re coming to these platforms exhausted from our day, looking for some relief, and they’re basically handing us content engineered to fire us up emotionally. It’s like trying to calm down by eavesdropping on a heated argument. Sure, you can’t look away, but you’re definitely not relaxing.

The Numbers That Make You Go “Huh”

Get this: about one-third of U.S. adults say they feel overwhelmed most days. Not some days. Most days. And the whole constellation of problems: sleep issues, anxiety, trouble concentrating, feeling emotionally exhausted. It’s showing up everywhere, especially in young adults and women.

But here’s what really strikes me: we’re more fluent in wellness language than ever before. We all know about “me time” and burnout and boundaries and nervous system regulation. We can talk about these things. We understand the concepts. But somehow knowing about it all isn’t translating into actually feeling better. That gap between knowing what we should do and actually doing it? That’s the part that feels so frustrating.

What Actually Helps

So the research points to something kind of counterintuitive: the answer isn’t adding more coping strategies to our routine. It’s reducing the number of demands we’re placing on our brains in the first place.

Instead of hunting for the next wellness hack or productivity system, maybe what we need is just… less. Fewer inputs, fewer demands, fewer things pulling at our attention.

Like, take multitasking with devices. You know when you’re watching TV with your phone in your hand? That’s not rest. You’re just splitting your attention between two different streams of stimulation. Turns out picking one or picking neither actually helps more than doing both.

Same thing with all those interruptions throughout the day. Every time you get a notification, switch apps, or do a “quick check” of your phone, that’s adding to cognitive fatigue. It might feel small in the moment, but it adds up. Giving yourself permission to just… not be constantly available or updated? That’s actually restorative.

And then there’s the environment piece. Spending time in quiet spaces, places without screens, being outside. These low-stimulation environments support our mood and emotional well-being in ways that high-stimulation digital spaces just can’t match.

Or trying those analog activities we keep talking about but never quite get around to. Reading actual physical books, journaling, gentle movement, walking without your phone. There’s something about the texture of paper, the weight of a pen, the simple act of moving through space that creates room for your brain to actually rest. These things let you engage mentally without overload.

The Bottom Line

Look, I’m not trying to demonize technology here or suggest we all need to become digital hermits. Screens and digital tools aren’t inherently bad. But there’s a real difference between feeling like you’re unwinding and actually allowing your brain and body to recover. And there’s an even bigger difference between choosing to spend time on screens and finding that screens have somehow consumed all your available time.

In Pickering’s words: “fewer screens, fewer inputs, fewer emotional demands and more protected time for genuine cognitive rest are important components of an effective wellness strategy.”

Maybe that’s the real self-care: not adding more tools or strategies or apps to our routine, but intentionally creating space where nothing is demanding our attention. Where we’re not consuming, processing, reacting, or engaging. Just… being. Or, you know, actually running those errands.

I’m writing this partly as a reminder to myself. The next time I reach for my phone “just to check one thing,” I’m going to ask myself: is this what I actually want to be doing right now, or is this just what’s easiest? Because those errands aren’t going anywhere, and that infinite scroll will always be there waiting.

But maybe today I’ll pick up that book instead.

What’s your relationship with screen-based “rest”? Have you noticed a difference when you unplug? I’d love to hear your thoughts.

Sunday Afternoon CSS Tinkering

Sun, 15 Feb 2026 17:03:53 -0400

So I spent my Sunday doing what normal people probably don’t do—obsessing over blog spacing. You know how it is. You notice one little thing that’s bugging you, and next thing you know, three hours have disappeared, and you’re still messing around with CSS.

It started with my blockquotes. I’ve got this dropcap thing going on for the first letter of posts, which I think looks pretty cool. But when a blockquote showed up right after that fancy first letter? Huge, awkward gap of white space. Just looked weird.

So I tried adjusting the dropcap’s line-height first. Then I messed around with margins—positive, negative, whatever I could think of. Nothing worked until I finally stumbled on the magic combo: negative margins on the blockquote itself, plus zeroing out the padding. And boom, fixed.

While I was in there anyway, I gave the blockquotes a little makeover. Switched the font to Georgia with italics. It’s got that slightly fancy, bookish vibe without being too much. Made the text bigger too so the quotes actually stand out.

I also tweaked the previous/next post navigation at the bottom of the pages. Made those links bold, colored them with my accent color, and added underlines when you hover over them. Just a few little touches to make everything feel more polished.

Here’s the funny part, though: I kept thinking the navigation font looked weird in Firefox compared to my other browser. Spent way too long trying to fix it with CSS. Turns out? Firefox’s font setting was on “Large” instead of “Medium.” Facepalm moment. 🤦‍♂️🤷‍♂️

But hey, that’s the fun of tinkering with your own site, right? You can spend a whole afternoon tweaking tiny details that probably only you’ll notice, and somehow it’s completely worth it.

Almost Went Green

Sat, 14 Feb 2026 20:15:37 -0400

Stumbled across this Domino article about stained green kitchen cabinets and it got me thinking.

Those kitchens with green hues look beautiful and simple. Clean lines, natural vibes, just really nice. And apparently it’s a trend for 2026? Maybe I’m onto something here.

I considered painting my cabinets green last year. Spent way too much time scrolling through inspiration photos, imagining how it’d look.

But here’s the thing: my cabinets are wood. Painting them means commitment. If I hate the color later, I’m stuck repainting over and over. So I went with stained wood instead—lets the grain show through, easier to live with long-term.

Part of me wonders if I should’ve dared to go green. But no regrets—the stained wood looks good.

Still, now I’m eyeing green accent tiles for the backsplash. Just a pop of color where the counters meet the wall.

Except picking the right shade feels impossible. Sage? Forest? Emerald? Something in between? There are a million shades and none feel quite right.

Phubbing: The Word I Learned Just in Time for Valentine's Day

Fri, 13 Feb 2026 22:46:57 -0400

Just learned a new word tonight: phubbing. Yeah, it’s a portmanteau of “phone” and “snubbing” — when you’re sitting across from someone and instead of actually engaging with them, you’re scrolling through your phone.

I’ll be honest, I’ve been guilty of this more times than I’d like to admit. You’re in the middle of a conversation, someone’s telling you something, and that little buzz pulls your attention away. Before you know it, you’ve checked three apps and completely lost the thread of what the person was saying.

The timing of learning this word is perfect since Valentine’s Day is tomorrow. The article makes a solid point: if there’s one night when we should resist the reflex to check notifications or Instagram, it’s February 14th. Your partner shouldn’t have to compete with a rectangle of glass and aluminum for your attention.

The fix is pretty straightforward — turn on Do Not Disturb, flip the phone face down, or better yet, just leave it in your pocket. Those messages can wait. The person across from you deserves your undivided attention.

So here’s my Valentine’s resolution: less phubbing, more actual presence. Who’s with me?

Wrestling with Micro.blog

Fri, 13 Feb 2026 12:36:18 -0400

I’ve been in a full-on wrestling match with my Micro.blog theme lately. Had this specific vision: truncated posts on the homepage with a “Continue Reading” link, a nice drop cap at the start of long-form posts, and images that didn’t feel like they were yelling over the text. Simple, right?

Started with trying to add the “Continue Reading” link myself but it didn’t work. Was about to send a support ticket, then thought “nah, I want to figure this out.” Asked Perplexity for help instead, and honestly? Huge help figuring out what I’d done wrong.

While I was at it, I asked Perplexity to help with other stuff too. Spotted a drop cap line in the CSS and thought “oh, I want that.” That turned into a whole thing. Spent HOURS trying to figure out what we kept doing wrong. Drop caps are a pain in the ass. Got them working on the homepage eventually, then tried adding them to the long-form summaries and everything broke. Finally just gave up on homepage drop caps.

Now I’m focusing on single post pages — getting that first letter styled with a drop cap in my theme color, sitting under the title and hero image. Also resizing images on the homepage so they don’t swallow the text.

Somewhere in all this, I realized how much I’ve missed this kind of tinkering. Used to mess with HTML and CSS all the time years ago, got rusty without noticing. Digging into Micro.blog’s custom themes, poking at selectors, breaking things and fixing them — it lit that old spark back up. Even figured out how to add anchor links within posts.

Now I’m venturing into shortcodes with some plug-ins I installed. The annoying part? Not every shortcode works nicely across every theme, which sucks when you’re excited to experiment. I mentioned this to the Micro.blog Help team and they agreed and are working on it — which is pretty cool.

It’s been equal parts frustrating and fun. One moment I’m grumbling because a div won’t behave, the next I’m genuinely excited because I got a drop cap to sit exactly where I want it, in exactly the right color. Can’t wait to keep learning more tricks to customize my little corner of the web.

French Toast Isn't French (And Other Things I Learned Last Week)

Fri, 13 Feb 2026 09:00:00 -0400

You know how some people collect stamps or vintage records? I collect random things. It's honestly my favorite thing - shuffling through the vast web, discovering stuff I never knew existed. So here's what caught my attention lately.

Someone once said, “The more you know, the more you realize you don’t know.” Turns out that’s annoyingly true. Especially when you discover entire personality types you never knew existed.

Ready? Let’s dive in.

The Great French Toast Identity Crisis

French toast. Not French. At all. Plot twist: it’s Roman.

Back in the 4th century, Romans soaked stale bread in milk and eggs, fried it up, drizzled honey on top. Genius way to not waste bread. Germans called it “arme ritter” (poor knights’ bread). The French? “Pain perdu” (lost bread). They even called it “pain à la romaine” for a while, giving Rome full credit.

So how did it become French toast? An innkeeper named Joseph French wanted to call it “French’s Toast” in 1724, but forgot the apostrophe and ’s’. We’ve been calling it wrong for 300 years because of a typo.

Best part? Every culture has a version. Holland’s “wentelteefjes” translates to “turn over, little dog!” India makes savory “Bombay toast” with spices. Portugal has “rabanadas.” Spain has “torrijas.”

Pro tip: Use day-old bread. It soaks up the egg mixture better. Fresh bread gets too squishy.

Me? I’m team Lewis’ Texas Toast. Thick slices, fried golden, loaded with cinnamon and sugar. Pure happiness on a plate.

Are You an Otrovert?

Introvert. Extrovert. Ambivert. But what if none of them fit?

Psychiatrist Rami Kaminski coined a new term: otrovert. It comes from “otro” (Spanish for “other”) plus “vert” (to turn, from Latin vertere). People who are perpetual outsiders - and totally fine with it.

Otroverts aren’t shy or awkward. They’re warm, have close friendships, and meaningful relationships. But zero interest in belonging to groups. No clubs, organized religion, political tribes, or sports teams. The “are you in or out?” thing? They don’t care.What they do care about: thinking for themselves. Evaluating every idea before accepting it. Freedom and independence. Questions over answers.

Kaminski says introverts and extroverts are both “inherently communal.” Otroverts? Fundamentally, outsiders - and that’s not a bad thing. Recognizing it can be freeing.

Take Kaminski’s free test and see where you land.

I’m an introvert, but some days I feel like an otrovert. Like I’m watching everyone play a game where I don’t know the rules - and I’m not sure I want to learn them anyway.

What a Corporate Lawyer Learned (That They Don’t Teach You)

David Elikwu spent five years at one of those massive corporate law firms where partners pull in millions. You’d expect typical hustle-culture garbage, right? Nope. Here’s what he learned instead:**

Don’t wait to be happy. Stop saying “I’ll be happy when…” Your satisfaction isn’t waiting for you around some corner. The people chasing “one day” end up washed downstream. Carve out happiness now, or don’t expect it later.**

It’s more important to be kind than intelligent. Smart people make dumb moves all the time when they forget about the humans involved. Want to actually get somewhere? Communicate clearly, save people time, and stop trying to sound clever.

You can’t please everyone. Some compromise is necessary. But most of the time, you can set better expectations upfront and stay in control of your sanity. Choose your battles.

Make great mistakes. Not all failures are created equal. Don’t repeat what someone else already screwed up. Make your mistakes cheaply, learn fast, and build a playbook. Fail forward, not sideways.

Don’t be an asshole. Success isn’t a free pass to treat people like garbage. Basic decency and humanity will take you further than being the smartest jerk in the room.

I agree with everything David says here. He’s got 15 unconventional lessons about life, money, and success, total—I just picked my favorite 5. Read the rest if you want the full wisdom. And honestly? “Don’t be an asshole” should be lesson #1 everywhere.

When Women Rioted for Bread

April 2, 1863. Richmond, Virginia - Confederate capital, Civil War raging, hyperinflation making food unaffordable. Working-class women watched their families starve while husbands were away fighting or dead.

Two women - Mary Jackson and Minerva Meredith - led hundreds to the State Capitol demanding help from Governor Letcher. When he dismissed them, they armed themselves with knives and pistols, stormed down 9th Street, crying: “We are starving! Bread or blood!”

Four hundred women raided warehouses for bacon and flour. Two hours of chaos before authorities shut it down.

Here’s what matters: these were women in a society that demanded they be passive and subservient. They asked politely first. Got ignored. So they rioted. Many were charged, mostly poor and older women, who got punished while better-dressed ones walked free.

But it worked. Historian Douglas O. Tice Jr. said it best: “Women, up until this event, were basically ignored… This was a desperate act, which took great courage… They stood up for once and were noticed.”

Sometimes asking nicely doesn’t cut it. And watching grocery prices climb today? Makes you understand why people get desperate when basic food becomes a luxury item. We’re not rioting (yet), but we’re definitely feeling it every time we check out at the store.

Time to Dust Off That Dictionary

Writer Austin Kleon has a tip: buy a used paper dictionary for $5 and keep it on your desk.

Why? Serendipity. When you look up a word, you brush past dozens of other words. You discover connections Google won’t show you. “Patina” sits right after “patient” – one about enduring time, the other about its residue.

Stephen King says: “Any word you have to hunt for in a thesaurus is the wrong word.” Alan Moore called his Random House Dictionary the one book he’d save in a fire.

The slowness is the point. Flipping pages, running your finger down columns, stumbling onto unexpected words. That friction creates space for curiosity.

I’ve been going more analog lately, and this got me thinking about my own dictionary. I’ve got this massive unabridged one sitting in storage. Haven’t touched it in forever. But reading this? I think it’s time to dig it out. Put it on my desk where I can actually use it. Because yeah—stumbling onto words I wasn’t looking for sounds way better than Google’s instant one-word answer.

That’s it for this week. Hope you learned something you didn’t know before. Or at least got inspired to question why French toast is called French toast.

What random thing sent you down a learning spiral this week? Hit reply and tell me - I love discovering new things to dive into.

Building Meaning in Finite Time

Mon, 09 Feb 2026 09:00:00 -0400

You're lying in bed, scrolling. Two hours vanish before you even realize it's happening—until suddenly you do. And there it is: the awareness. Your book's still on the nightstand. Your essay's waiting on your laptop. The puzzle's half-finished on the table. The coloring supplies are untouched.

I catch myself here, too. Not in a guilt-spiral way, but in that quiet moment where you realize: this is finite time, and I’m choosing how it goes. That’s when everything shifts. Because it’s not really about doing enough—it’s about whether I’m actually building something that feels like mine.

Photo by Jesse Blom on Unsplash

The weird thing about knowing you’re going to die

Here’s the wild part: we know we’re going to die. We know our time is limited. And somehow, that knowledge doesn’t usually send us running toward meaning—it just… sits there. Heavy. Sometimes paralyzing. Sometimes ignored. We scroll instead.

But here’s where it gets interesting. That same limited time that should crush us? It’s also what gives us permission to choose differently. Knowing we won’t live forever makes life feel pointless and makes it matter. Both at the same time. That’s the odd thing we’re all living with.

Think about it. If we had endless time, would anything be urgent? Would anything be precious? Would you actually care about finishing that book, or would you just keep scrolling because there’s always tomorrow?

The limited time isn’t the problem. The problem is pretending we have more time than we do, and then being shocked when we look up and realize we’ve spent it on things that don’t feed us.

What building meaning actually looks like

I used to think building meaning meant achieving something big. Something impressive that proved your life mattered.

But that’s not what’s happening when I sit down to write. Or when I’m deep in a puzzle, completely absorbed. Or when I’m finally reading the book that’s been calling to me for months. Or when I’m in that meditative space of coloring, just… being present with something my hands are doing.

Meaning isn’t always loud. It’s not always finished. Sometimes it’s just the practice of choosing—over and over—to do the things that make you feel alive. To read instead of scroll. To create instead of consume. To be present instead of distracted.

When I write, I’m not building meaning because I think my words will change the world. I’m building it because the act of writing—of finding my voice, of wrestling with ideas, of putting something that’s mine into the world—that’s what makes me feel like I’m actually living, not just existing. Same with the puzzle. Same with the coloring. Same with cracking open a new book and disappearing into someone else’s world for an afternoon.

These aren’t distractions from life. They are life. Meaning is a practice, not a destination. It’s what you build in the small, intentional choices you make with your limited time.

The things that outlast us

Here’s something I’ve been sitting with: our lives are limited, but the things we create—the connections we make, the work we do, the person we become through these choices—those matter beyond just us.

You don’t have to believe in an afterlife to understand this. You just have to look at what lasts: a book that changed someone’s thinking. A conversation that shifted how someone saw themselves. The memory of someone’s kindness. The impact of someone choosing presence over distraction, meaning over numbness.

When you build something—whether it’s writing, a creative practice, a relationship, or just the habit of choosing what matters—you’re reaching beyond your own limited timeline. You’re part of something bigger than yourself. That’s not about being remembered or famous. It’s about the quiet knowledge that how you spend your time matters to people around you. That your choice to read instead of scroll, to create instead of consume, to be present instead of numb—those choices ripple out. Not because they’re perfect or impressive, but because they’re real. They’re yours.

What to do with all this

Look, you already know you’re limited in time. You already feel the weight of that sometimes, usually when you’re quiet and thinking. The question isn’t whether you’ll run out of time—you will. The question is: what are you going to do with the time you have?

Not in a frantic, productivity-obsessed way. But in a deliberate way that’s true to who you actually are and what actually feeds your soul.

Maybe it’s finally picking up that book. Maybe it’s committing to your writing, even when it feels small and insignificant. Maybe it’s giving yourself permission to sit with a puzzle or a coloring page without feeling guilty that you’re “not being productive.” Maybe it’s just this: the next time you catch yourself scrolling instead of building, instead of reading, instead of creating—pause. Notice the choice. And then ask yourself: what am I really wanting right now? And is this how I want to spend this hour?

Because here’s what I’ve learned: limited time isn’t a tragedy. It’s an invitation. It’s the universe’s way of saying, “You get to choose. You don’t have much time, and that’s exactly why what you choose matters so much.”

Your limited time is your most valuable resource. And you’re allowed to spend it on things that feel meaningful to you—even if they’re small, even if they’re quiet, even if nobody else understands why they matter. That’s how you build a life that’s actually yours.

Trees on Buildings, Poison in Our Food, and Why I'm Going Analog

Fri, 06 Feb 2026 09:00:00 -0400

So I've been reading about some random stuff lately, and these things have been sitting in my head for a while. You know how it is—you start with skyscrapers covered in forests, end up at the grocery store aisle, and somehow land on Bambi, of all things.

Anyway, figured I’d share. You might find them interesting too.

Buildings with actual forests on them

I love buildings covered in greenery. Walls, balconies, entire facades—just filled with plants. It’s brilliant. I’m a total black thumb—I can kill a cactus—but that doesn’t stop me from appreciating it. I grew up in an Appalachian town surrounded by trees. I’d sit for hours just looking at all that green. There’s something calming about it. Give me a good book and a spot under some trees, and I’m happy. So, when I discovered skyscrapers with literal forests growing on them? I was hooked.

The idea isn’t totally new—people have been sticking plants on buildings since the Hanging Gardens of Babylon around 600 BC. But it took until the 1980s for someone to really figure out how to do modern living walls, and even longer for someone to think: what if we didn’t just add a wall of plants, but covered an entire skyscraper in an actual forest?

Enter Stefano Boeri. In 2007, he was in Dubai watching glass towers turn the city into an oven, and he had this thought: What if we just… put trees on buildings instead? By 2014, his first “Vertical Forest” had been completed in Milan. Now there are 8 completed, 8 under construction, and 24 more being designed around the world. Milan has these two towers—Bosco Verticale, “Vertical Forest”—covered in 800 trees, 4,500 shrubs, and 20,000 plants.

And it works. These buildings absorb 44,000 pounds of CO2 yearly, drop indoor temperatures by a few degrees, and within the first year, over 1,600 birds and insects moved in.

I keep wondering, though—how do you water all that greenery on a skyscraper? What happens if it’s abandoned? I picture nature taking over completely—either wild and beautiful, or a complete overgrown mess. But maybe that’s the point.

Best part? The Trudo Vertical Forest in Eindhoven is social housing—rent capped at $510/month. Not some billionaire project.

What if the measure of a modern city wasn’t how far it sprawls, but how much living forest it can hold in the sky?

The grocery store conspiracy

Everyone’s talking about ultraprocessed foods lately. The Lancet just published a whole series on it, California passed a law about it for school lunches, and headlines everywhere. But here’s the part they’re dancing around.

The takeover didn’t happen overnight. In 1963, R.J. Reynolds—yes, the tobacco company—bought Hawaiian Punch. That was just the beginning. Big Tobacco went on a shopping spree—Del Monte, Nabisco, General Foods, Kraft, 7UP. They brought their addiction-engineering expertise straight to your pantry. By the 1980s, ultraprocessed foods were everywhere.

Now? 70% of U.S. grocery stores are ultraprocessed—engineered to hit the “bliss point” that hijacks your brain’s “I’m full” signal. The food industry spent 60 years removing actual food from our food.

Get this: people eating ultraprocessed foods ate 500 more calories per day than people eating whole foods—even when both were equally available. They just couldn’t stop.

The damage? Obesity, diabetes, heart disease, cancer, depression, and early death. Just 10% more in your diet ups your early death risk by 3%.

And food corporations made $2.9 trillion between 1962 and 2021, with over half going to ultraprocessed manufacturers. It’s Big Tobacco’s playbook all over again—engineer addiction, fund fake research, market to kids.

Want to spot this stuff? Simple rule: if the ingredient list has things you’d never cook with at home, put it back.

Trying to go analog

Remember when going digital was supposed to make life easier? We dove in headfirst—smartphones, social media, streaming everything. Analog got pushed aside. But somewhere along the way, “easier” turned into exhausting. Infinite scroll. Constant notifications. Your attention sliced smaller and smaller.

And now? We’re tired. Our brains weren’t designed for this.

I found this piece called “The Analog Life: 50 Ways to Unplug and Feel Human Again,” and something just clicked. Going analog isn’t about rejecting technology. It’s about taking back your mental health. Give your brain a break. There’s life beyond the infinite scroll.

Going analog is about resisting the tech industry. They design their apps to be addictive on purpose—to grab your attention and keep you scrolling so they can profit off every minute you’re online.

So I’m trying to go analog. Reading actual books before bed. Brewing my latte in the morning and sitting on the porch without my phone. When spring comes, I’ll be watching the Appalachian mountains wake up. Writing my to-do list by hand. Watching sunsets—trying to be more of an opacarophile.

Just trying to reclaim my own attention.

Bambi, unfiltered

I remember watching Bambi as a kid. Thought he was adorable. And it was heartbreaking watching all the animals flee the forest during that fire. Classic Disney, right?

Here’s what I didn’t know: Disney’s Bambi, released in 1942, was based on an adult novel never meant for children. Walt was moved by the story and hated hunting, but he worked from a faulty English translation that made it seem like “a delightful animal tale.” He missed the darker political allegory. So he turned it into something families could watch together. The original Bambi is bleak as hell.

Felix Salten’s 1923 novel wasn’t about cute forest friends. It’s an existential meditation on violence, survival, and death. Bambi’s mom getting shot? That’s actually one of the lighter moments.

Salten was Jewish, writing in Vienna as antisemitism was rising. His book is about fear, random death, and the realization that there’s no such thing as safety. Less “woodland adventure,” more “nature is beautiful and terrifying, and we’re all just trying not to die.”

Disney gave it hope and sentimentality. Which, okay—six-year-olds probably don’t need existential dread. But it makes you wonder what else gets sanitized before it reaches us.

Male birth control is finally happening

Women have had the pill for over 60 years. Men? Condoms or vasectomy. That’s it.

Think about that for a second. Women have been dealing with the side effects, the responsibility, and the health risks for over six decades. And it’s only now that anyone’s seriously investing in male options? Kind of tells you where the priorities have been.

But things might actually be changing.

But things are moving. A hormone-free pill just passed its first human safety trial in 2025. There’s a daily gel that 86% of guys responded to within 8 weeks. Even a long-acting option (Plan A) might be available in 2026.

Will guys actually use it? 75% said yes. Turns out a lot of them want more control and are willing to deal with the side effects women have been managing for decades.

Matthew Treviño, a participant in the UC Davis trial, said it perfectly: “Maybe the burden is on the wrong side. I kind of think it’s unfair that it only lands on the women.”

Makes you wonder—why did it take this long?

What caught your attention this week? I’d love to know what got you thinking.

TV Nights: What I’m Watching in February

Thu, 05 Feb 2026 18:55:15 -0400

I’m currently hooked on an exhilarating TV series that combines suspense, drama, and unforgettable characters. Each episode leaves me wanting more, making it a total binge-worthy experience!

City of Shadows Season 1 🍿
It is a Spanish crime thriller about a suspended Barcelona detective brought back to hunt a serial killer staging fiery public executions at Gaudí landmarks, based on Aro Sáinz de la Maza’s novel El verdugo de Gaudí.
Percy Jackson and the Olympians Season 2 🍿- It adapts Rick Riordan’s novel The Sea of Monsters, sending Percy back to a threatened Camp Half-Blood where he must sail into the Sea of Monsters to rescue Grover and retrieve the Golden Fleece to save the camp, and I’ve heard that a third season adapting The Titan’s Curse is already on the way, so I need to catch up on the rest of Season 2.
Bridgerton Season 3 🍿- It focuses on Penelope Featherington and Colin Bridgerton, as Colin’s “confidence lessons” for Penelope blossom into a slow-burn friends-to-lovers romance while her secret identity as Lady Whistledown threatens everything they’ve built. And I’ve heard that season 4, centered on Benedict’s masquerade-ball love story inspired by Julia Quinn’s An Offer from a Gentleman, is already on the way, Bridgerton Season 4
Cross Season 1 🍿- It is a crime thriller about brilliant D.C. homicide detective and forensic psychologist Alex Cross, who hunts a sadistic serial killer leaving bodies across the city while a dangerous figure from his past threatens his already grieving family.

Just got diagnosed? Here's what you need to know

Mon, 02 Feb 2026 09:00:00 -0400

So I've been doing a lot of writing lately for this new organization I'm working with—[OULDHH](https://www.ouldhh.org) (Organization of Unique Learners for the Deaf and Hard of Hearing Community). We're pretty informal, just getting started really, but we're gathering resources and information about neurodivergence, accessibility, and education for the Deaf community. **I've been posting new content every Wednesday—sometimes about neurodivergence, sometimes about whatever else I'm geeking out about that week.**

And honestly? Some of these posts hit close to home. Whether you just got a diagnosis for yourself or your child, you’re dealing with school stuff that feels impossible, or you’re just trying to figure out what ADHD or autism or learning disabilities actually mean—I wanted to share what I’ve been working on because I think it might help.

Starting point: You just found out

You Just Found Out You’re Neurodivergent. Here’s What We Want You to Know.

If you or your kid just got diagnosed, start here. It’s short. It’s warm. And it’s basically saying: you’re not broken. You never were. Let’s talk about what comes next.

The stuff nobody tells you

Why “They’re Smart, Just Lazy” Is So Harmful

Ever heard this one? Or maybe you’ve said it? (No judgment—we’ve all been there.) This breaks down why that phrase does so much damage and what’s actually going on when neurodivergent people struggle.

ADHD Isn’t About Attention. It’s About Regulation.

Turns out people with ADHD don’t have trouble paying attention—they have trouble controlling where their attention goes. Big difference. This one explains what’s really happening and why “just focus” doesn’t work.

Autism: Masking is Survival, Not Social Skill

Masking—that thing where you hide who you are to fit in—it’s not about getting better at socializing. It’s about staying safe in a world that treats being different as being wrong. This one’s heavy but important.

When school is the problem

When Education Becomes Trauma: A Guide for Parents and Educators (Part 1)

If you’re watching a kid struggle at school and you need actual strategies right now—not platitudes, but real tools—this is where to go. Ten practical things you can do to help.

When Education Becomes Trauma: Why Our Schools Are Failing Neurodivergent Students (Part 2)

This one’s the bigger picture. The systems-level look at why schools keep harming neurodivergent students, what the data actually says, and what needs to change. If you’re advocating for better support, you’ll want this one.

Part 3 of the Education Trauma series is on the way—stay tuned.

Not sure where to start?

New diagnosis in the family? “You Just Found Out” + “Why They’re Smart, Just Lazy”
Figuring out your own neurodivergence? Pick whichever diagnosis post fits—“Autism Masking” or “ADHD Isn’t About Attention”
School is a mess right now? Go straight to both Educational Trauma posts
Want the whole picture? Read them in order—they build on each other

And hey, while you’re exploring, check out OULDHH.org itself. We’re still building things out, but there’s already a lot there about learning disabilities, autism, ADHD, and Deaf accessibility. We’re keeping it updated as we learn more and as new issues come up. Think of us as your informal resource hub—we’re just collecting good information in one place so you don’t have to hunt for it.

Look, I know this stuff is a lot. You don’t have to read everything at once. Bookmark what speaks to you. Come back when you’re ready. Share what helps.

The thing is, whether you’re figuring this out for yourself or for someone you love, you deserve real information—not the myths, not the shame, just the truth about how different brains work and what actually helps.

You’re not alone in this.

P.S. Seriously, if something in these posts resonates or if you have questions, hit reply. I actually want to hear from you. And if you know someone who needs this stuff, pass it along. Sometimes the right words show up exactly when you need them.

Promising Science and My Mountain of DNF Books

Sat, 31 Jan 2026 12:11:13 -0400

Posted on Substacks on January 9, 2026

Hey folks, I’m experimenting here. I usually put together a monthly newsletter on various topics, but I read about 100 articles a week, and there’s always something that catches my attention and feels worth sharing sooner rather than later. Over the last two weeks alone, I had about 30 links I wanted to share with you—way too much for one newsletter. So I’m breaking them up into a weekly newsletter instead. This one covers genuinely good health news, some overdue reflection on Deaf representation, and tackling my mountain of unread books. Not sure yet if I’ll stick with weekly or go back to monthly—we’ll see how this feels.

Let’s start with some genuinely good news for once.

Table of Contents

There are about 40 million people worldwide living with HIV, and we all take medications for life to suppress the virus and ensure we don’t develop symptoms or transmit it. I’ve been HIV+ for 29 years next month. And yes, I’ve always longed for a cure.

I’ve heard about potential HIV cures over the last few years—plenty of “breakthroughs” that fizzled out. But when I read about [researchers in Australia](https://www.theguardian.com/global-development/2025/jun/05/breakthrough-in-search-for-hiv-cure-leaves-researchers-overwhelmed) developing a new method using mRNA technology to deliver drugs into white blood cells where HIV hides, this one actually feels promising. The breakthrough allows scientists to force the virus out of hiding, potentially paving the way to fully clear it from the body. The scientists were “overwhelmed” by how well the approach worked compared to previous failed attempts.

Overwhelmed. I get it.

I’ve been taking medication forever, but I’m grateful that HIV therapy has evolved so much. I remember when I first got my diagnosis—my doctor prescribed a cocktail therapy (three medications separately), totaling about 13-15 pills every day! And one or two were huge pills, gosh. Now I’m just taking one pill a day.

I’ve also heard about cabotegravir/rilpivirine (CAB/RPV), an injectable treatment for people living with HIV that you only have to take every two months. I might switch to that—I’ll have to ask my doctor about it.

Medical breakthroughs like this make me think about what could have been. My papaw (grandfather) had lung cancer and died, I think, a week after Christmas about 34 years ago. It was devastating for my family and relatives. He was loved by many. I loved him, and I missed him so much. He accepted me for who I am as a deaf person. Even though he would try to teach me how to pronounce “Papaw” and “Mamaw.” I think I got Papaw almost right, but I never pronounced Mamaw right. I have many good memories with my papaw, and they will be remembered forever.

What if my papaw could have gotten a shot instead of a death sentence? I am amazed at how medical technology has evolved and continues to improve every day. Now, they’re conducting the [world’s first clinical trial of LungVax](https://news.cancerresearchuk.org/2025/11/17/world-first-trial-preventative-lung-cancer-vaccine-lungvax/), a preventative vaccine designed to stop lung cancer before it starts. The vaccine uses technology similar to that of the Oxford/AstraZeneca COVID-19 vaccine to train the immune system to recognize and destroy abnormal lung cells that display “red flag” proteins.

The phase 1 trial will begin in the summer of 2026, focusing on people at high risk of lung cancer, including those previously treated for early-stage disease. If it goes well in the clinical trial, the future will brighten and help millions prevent it. Maybe some kid out there won’t have to lose their papaw at all.

On a completely different note, PBS American Masters just premiered “Marlee Matlin: Not Alone Anymore,” directed by fellow Deaf actress Shoshannah Stern. I haven’t watched it yet, but I plan to.I remembered when Marlee won her first Oscar in 1987—it shook the Deaf community because she spoke at the ceremony rather than signing, and we were shocked and disappointed. We made many negative comments about that. I don’t blame her for keeping her distance after what we did to her.

But decades later? Marlee still stood firm and fought for our human rights, including closed captioning on every TV. From what I’ve heard about the documentary and her memoir, I’ll Scream Later, she opened up about things way beyond Oscar controversies—she didn’t know about Deaf Culture back then, plus drugs, domestic abuse, and isolation. We judged her without knowing any of this.

It’s not about who wins 1st, 2nd, or 3rd anymore. I’m glad to see more Deaf people getting involved in Hollywood now. Yet, she still stands and refuses to be invisible, and she made damn sure we wouldn’t be either.

That got me thinking about reading. I miss reading. I used to devour books in the 1990s and 2000s. Then I drifted away, spending more time online reading instead. Not only that, but I’ve also bought a lot of books in the last few years—unfortunately, most are DNF (Did Not Finish), creating a mountain of unread books sitting on shelves waiting for me to come back.

My go-to genres have always been legal thrillers, medical thrillers, mystery, sci-fi, and fantasy. But I want to push myself beyond my comfort zone and explore something different. Studies show that [reading different kinds of books](https://kdl.org/blogs/post/expand-your-mind-the-joy-of-reading-across-genres/) helps you understand what other people are thinking and feeling—it’s called “theory of mind,” and it’s important for getting along with others. Reading across genres can also make your brain more flexible, helping you think in new ways and solve problems more effectively. Plus, you might discover a new favorite genre you never knew you’d love.

[Book Riot’s 2026 Read Harder Challenge](https://s2982.pcdn.co/wp-content/uploads/2026/01/ReadHarderChallenge2026_checklist_fillable.pdf) offers 24 diverse prompts to push you beyond your usual choices: read a microhistory, a book by a d/Deaf author, a gothic novel published in the last ten years, a nonfiction book about AI or social media, a genre book in translation. You can even pick challenges from previous years to customize your reading journey.

See you in the next one.

Update:

P.S. I just discovered that “Book Riot’s 2026 Read Harder Challenge” is paywalled, but don’t worry—I tracked down the PDF so you can still see all 24 prompts and decide if you want to tackle it yourself.

P.S.S. I also swapped in a different PDF for the Read Harder Challenge: this one is a checklist with fillable, editable fields, so you can mark off each prompt as you go and make it your own.

P.S.S.S. I stumbled on an article about the Read Harder Challenge last week and loved the reminder that it’s not homework—it’s a game, an invitation to play with your reading life instead of policing it. You can read it here.

Thrift store haul

Sat, 31 Jan 2026 11:38:53 -0400

Thrift store haul from Pikeville, KY! Yesterday’s adventures led my parents and me through two local thrift shops, and I struck an absolute jackpot in the book section. Found these four gems that I can’t wait to dive into 📚✨ They are very cheap, costing a dollar per book! What a great find, right?

The Lincoln Lawyer by Michael Connelly 📚
State of Fear by Michael Crichton 📚
I Am Pilgrim by Terry Hayes 📚
Snow Crash: A Novel by Neal Stephenson 📚

Speaking of going analog—there’s something magical about holding a real book, feeling the pages, breathing in that paper scent. E-books are convenient, sure, but they’ll never quite capture that tactile joy. Anyone else with me on this? 📖 Stay tuned for a deeper dive into my analog adventures coming soon!

Oh, and the plot thickens! In a moment of pure thrift store serendipity, I snagged a 1973 Webster’s New Ideal Dictionary—yes, an actual vintage dictionary! Now I get to flip through those yellowed pages and discover forgotten words at random. Talk about embracing the analog life! 📖✨

35 Years of the ADA, and Hotels Still Can’t Get It Right

Fri, 30 Jan 2026 22:48:21 -0400

Published on Substack on 1/26/2026

The Americans with Disabilities Act will turn 36 later this year. In the last thirty-five years, there has been a requirement for accessible hotel accommodations. And yet, NPR just published an investigation showing that wheelchair users are still dealing with the same frustrating barriers that shouldn’t exist after three decades of the law being on the books.

![fQBIzPV.jpg](https://iili.io/fQBIzPV.jpg)

NPR talked to 50 wheelchair users and surveyed over 200 more. The stories were depressingly familiar. You call ahead, you book an accessible room online, you show up… and there’s no reservation. Or the room’s been given away. Or—my personal favorite—the room exists, but it’s not actually accessible.

Eileen Schoch uses a wheelchair after having two strokes. She told NPR she couldn’t use the hotel toilet without help from her family because the grab bars were in the wrong place. The shower door was too narrow for her wheelchair. She went three days with only sponge baths. “You feel that you’re treated as a second-class citizen,” she said.

Travel blogger Cory Lee has a simple solution: hotels should just post photos and videos of their accessible rooms online. Show people what they’re actually getting. “The first chain that actually does that and publishes those videos is really going to get all the business from disabled travelers,” he says. It’s such an obvious fix. And yet.

Here’s the thing, though, hotels aren’t the outlier. They’re the pattern.

Healthcare Is Where It Gets Dangerous

I’m deaf, so my accessibility battles look different than what wheelchair users face. But trust me, the problems are just as persistent. And in healthcare, they’re not just frustrating—they can be deadly.

Medical offices are supposed to provide qualified ASL interpreters. It’s required by law. Has been for 35 years. But in practice? Doctors expect you to lip-read (which doesn’t really work—and good luck if they have a mustache or turn away while talking). Or they want you to write notes back and forth. Or they ask if a family member can interpret. None of these is adequate. None of these is legal. And all of them have been happening for decades.

A 2024 study found that 65% of deaf and hard-of-hearing patients had trouble communicating with healthcare workers in emergency rooms. That’s not a minor inconvenience—that’s a crisis.

And sometimes the consequences are devastating. In Minnesota, two deaf parents were in a hospital with their son. He was dying right in front of them, and they had no idea because the hospital wouldn’t provide interpreters. They finally got access to communication—and moments later, their son died in a nurse’s arms. They sued. They lost. (Watch their story)

The worst part? Doctors know this. A study found that although 63% of physicians knew that signing should be the initial method of communicating with deaf patients, only 22% actually used sign language interpreters more frequently than other methods in their practices. They admit communication is better with interpreters. But they often don’t use them. Physicians cite the unreimbursed cost of interpreter services as a barrier—especially for smaller practices—even though the ADA explicitly requires medical offices to provide interpreters.

Nobody’s Enforcing Any of This

Want to know why this keeps happening? Because there are basically no consequences.

In June 2025, the National Association of the Deaf had to sue the White House—again—for not providing ASL interpreters at press briefings. They’d already won this lawsuit once under the previous administration. A new administration comes in; interpreters disappear. So here we are, 35 years after the ADA passed, and deaf people are back in court just trying to access information from their own government.

Or look at websites. Nearly 8,800 ADA lawsuits were filed in 2024 over inaccessible websites. And here’s my favorite detail: 22.6% of those lawsuits were against websites that had installed those “accessibility widget” overlays—you know, the ones that promise instant compliance? The FTC fined one of the major widget companies $1 million for false advertising. Turns out the widgets don’t work. They never did. But companies bought them anyway because it was cheaper than actually fixing their websites.

The Department of Justice got 23,000 complaints about disability discrimination in 2024. The highest number ever. But here’s the problem: unless someone actually takes a business to court, nothing happens. There’s no proactive enforcement. There are rarely consequences.

So hotels give away accessible rooms. Doctors don’t provide interpreters. Websites stay broken. Government agencies remove accommodations, and nobody stops them. Technically, all of this is illegal. But without enforcement, the ADA is more like a strongly worded suggestion.

So What Actually Fixes This?

The ADA was huge when it passed in 1990. It established that disabled people have the same legal right to access services and spaces as everyone else. But clearly, the law by itself isn’t enough.

We need actual enforcement. The DOJ needs the resources and staff to investigate complaints and pursue businesses that violate the law. And the penalties need to hurt—not just be something companies can write off as a cost of doing business. Repeat offenders should face escalating fines.

We need standards that keep up with reality. The digital accessibility rules for government websites are a start, but private businesses need clear requirements too. And those standards need to evolve as technology changes.

We need to build accessibility from the start. Not’t bolt it on as an afterthought. That means training architects, web developers, healthcare workers, hotel staff—everyone whose job affects whether disabled people can actually participate in society.

And honestly? When government agencies ignore the ADA—pulling interpreters from press briefings and failing to provide accessible voting—it tells everyone else that compliance is optional. It’s not.

That NPR investigation about hotels isn’t really about hotels. It’s about the gap between what the law promises and what disabled people actually experience every single day. Thirty-five years in, we should be past this. Hotels should be able to keep accessible rooms available for the people who need them. Doctors should provide interpreters. Websites should work for everyone. The government should lead by example.

Laws on paper mean nothing if institutions can ignore them without consequences. It’s been 35 years. It’s time to actually enforce the ADA.

A Moment of Beauty

Fri, 30 Jan 2026 21:08:02 -0400

I stumbled across this photo of Lago delle Baste in the Dolomites and had to share it. The contrast between that deep-blue alpine lake and the golden autumn grasses, with those dramatic Dolomite peaks rising in the background, is breathtaking. Sometimes you need to pause and appreciate something beautiful.

All Movement Counts (Even the Aimless Kind)

Fri, 30 Jan 2026 21:01:30 -0400

I love to walk. Back when I lived in DC, I'd spend hours on weekends just getting lost in the city with my camera, capturing whatever caught my eye. Those long, meandering walks were never about hitting a step goal; they were about exploring and discovering. Turns out all those hours of wandering were doing way more for my health than I realized.

Two recent studies offer encouraging news about movement and how it protects us, and the takeaway is that how and when you move matter less than moving itself.

One study in the Journal of the American College of Cardiology tracked over 100,000 adults and found that people who took a single long walk each day had better cardiovascular outcomes than those who spread their steps across multiple shorter walks. Even when the total daily step count was the same, concentrating physical activity into a single session was linked to a lower risk of heart attack, heart failure, and stroke.

Meanwhile, a University of Gothenburg study followed over 4,000 Swedish women for 20 years and found something even more encouraging: any movement, no matter how light, can significantly reduce stroke risk. Women who were physically active had a 58% lower risk of stroke compared to inactive women. The key? The activity didn’t need to be intense. Housework, gardening, casual walking—it all counted and helped.

Since moving back here, I don’t get much chance to walk around like I used to. I miss it. But these studies remind me there’s no single “right” way to be active. Whether it’s one long walk or staying gently active throughout the day, consistent movement, in whatever form works for you, is what protects your heart and brain.

Mediterranean Sunshine for Under $4

Fri, 30 Jan 2026 20:27:47 -0400

I saw a kitchen renovation that made me stop scrolling: a London couple turned their IKEA cabinets into bright-yellow, striped beauties inspired by the towels and umbrellas at an Italian seaside hotel where they vacation every year. The genius part? They used painter's tape, not paint .

Dorian Caffot de Fawes (an antiques dealer) and his husband Thomas Daviet (an interior designer) bought rolls of yellow painter’s tape, under $4 on Amazon, and wrapped their cabinet doors in vertical stripes. It’s durable enough to last but removable whenever they want something different.

Their tips: go vertical to keep it calming (horizontal stripes make your eye move faster), and match your stripe width to other design elements in the room so everything feels harmonious. If high-wear spots start peeling, just replace those sections.

I love how simple this is. Living in 480 square feet, I’m always looking for ways to add personality without locking myself into permanent decisions. This feels like the design equivalent of giving yourself permission to play around.

Chasing Sunlight: My Vitamin D Journey

Fri, 30 Jan 2026 20:22:12 -0400

Winter's here in Kentucky, which means less sunlight and thinking about vitamin D. Most of us aren't getting enough—[35% of American adults](https://www.prevention.com/food-nutrition/a69797685/foods-with-vitamin-d/) fall short. I'm one of them. Both my doctors told me I wasn't getting enough, so I've been taking 1,000 IU supplements year-round.

What really surprised me: targeted vitamin D3 cut the chances of a second heart attack in half for people who’d already had one. I knew deficiency could affect health, but I had no idea it was tied specifically to heart health.

Since becoming diabetic, I’ve been eating two or three scrambled eggs every day for breakfast to keep my blood sugar stable. The eggs should help boost my vitamin D, too. If you’re trying to boost yours without relying solely on supplements, spending 10-15 minutes in direct sunlight a few times a week helps your body produce it naturally. Eating fatty fish like salmon or tuna regularly also makes a difference. My problem is I don’t eat fish as much as I’d like—they perish quickly, which makes me resist buying them. But I love salmon, so I’m going to try to eat it more often.

If I can raise my vitamin D levels through diet and sunlight, maybe I can eventually get off the pills.

What Food Defines You?

Fri, 30 Jan 2026 19:56:58 -0400

I came across a question this week that I can’t stop thinking about.

Software engineer Cassidy Williams posed this on her blog:

“If Jesus’s body and blood were bread and wine, what are yours?”

Her answer? Lasagna and a root beer float. Her husband went with fried chicken and boba. Friends chimed in with everything from sushi and beer to fried plantains and Pepsi to Costco rotisserie chicken and a Manhattan.

What gets me about this question is that it’s not really about your favorite foods. It’s about what defines you. Williams says learning someone’s answer helps her know that person better, and I get it. There’s something revealing about which foods feel central to who you are versus which ones you just happen to like. When her husband threw her a surprise lasagna-and-root-beer-float party for her 34th birthday, she wrote, “I felt so known and loved.”

Before I was diabetic, my answer would’ve been instant: fried chicken and Pepsi. Now? I’m still figuring out what represents me in this new reality. The drink would have to be the safe answer, water, but everyone loves water. I hope I’ll find my favorite drink eventually. The food is harder to pin down when you’re navigating what you can and can’t eat anymore.

I’m genuinely curious what my answer will be once I settle into this new version of myself. And I’m more curious what yours would be, if you’re reading this. What two things define you?

Read Cassidy Williams’s full post here.