Wed, 8:43: I'm beginning to wonder if, within my lifetime, New Orleans might wind up completely abandoned. https://t.co/Gir3rv0uEK
Wed, 13:21: "You will not talk me out of my reverential tone." —favorite email this week, about me
Wed, 16:23: If you aren't terrified by what's happened in Texas, you aren't paying attention. BUT. In the meantime, there are still ways to tell the Texas GOP to go fuck themselves. https://t.co/P0YHtHDglq https://t.co/bCGtWMYE4l
Wed, 20:42: There’s a scene in this movie in which a character processes the loss of her mother, and having to say goodbye to her in the hospital over FaceTime while pulled over to the side of the road in her car. The scene is gut wrenching, and I cried. And I cried. This scene unlocked some dormant grief of my own, after having lost my own mother last year. My mom’s death had nothing to do with COVID, but my grief was still affected by it—as was that of anyone who lost a loved one over the past year and a half, for any reason. I didn’t just cry when I watched Sharon Horgan detail the unfairness of her mother dying alone. For a few seconds, I wept. I hadn’t cried like this at a movie in a good twenty years, and never for such a deeply, viscerally personal reason. https://t.co/4UWHqqK0su