Grudge Match

I'm Having a Petty Party and You're All Invited

A while back, Karyn told me how she jots down everything in the Notes app, every random idea, every fleeting notion. This list is a treasure trove and a historical document. She has access to every little thought she’s had for more than a decade. I thought this was such a great idea that I decided to emulate it immediately.

Of course, I put one thing in my Notes app before promptly forgetting about it. When I finally reopened my Notes app today, I saw that I had an entry titled PEOPLE I AM MAD AT AND PEOPLE WHO I AM LESS MAD AT.

Turns out, I was maddest at Jones Road Beauty, Chiquita (as in the banana company), and TikTok. But I’m mad at TikTok every day. IT IS SPYWARE AND A THREAT TO NATIONAL SECURITY, FOR CHRIST’S SAKE. Also, none of those things are people.

Anyway, I also had decided I was less mad at Jared Kushner. Huh.

I think I wrote that note to myself about three Trump books ago, at the beginning of the summer. While I would not say I was a fan of the Slim Reaper (not my nickname for him), I’ve actually cut him some slack for what I read about him trying to hold shit together in A Very Stable Genius.

Congrats, Jared, you’re off the list.

Regardless, I have not been good at documenting anything so I’ve had no idea what’s happening in my life, save for my three all-consuming September deadlines, as well as a book launch that I keep forgetting to mention.

Yes, there are Taylor Swift references in the book.

Which is good because little of note has happened.

Until last week.

Last week, I was so mad that I told myself I couldn’t write about why I was mad for a week, as I would better be able to gauge my level of madness after the mandatory seven-day cooling off period.

Listen, I don’t make the rules.

99% of the time, I tend to calm my over-reacting ass down during this period and I don’t blow shit up by writing in the heat of the moment.

Now if you've been here for a while, you know that Karyn and I are people who can hold a grudge. Like, we are champion grudge holders. If grudges were an Olympic sport, we'd be the Simone Biles and Michael Phelps (and not the Raygun) of grudge holding.

(Raygun, if I were to start another list, you’d find yourself on it.)

Now I have a new grudge and I'm going to hold it for the rest of my life because I am still pissed off seven days later. This is a permanent grudge, one to be etched in the Annals of Grudges. I mentioned a bit of this on the podcast last week, but this is the extended cut.