The Year of "No"
An update about our content schedule moving forward
It’s been a while since I've written one of these and for that I apologize. The end of the year with the election heading into the New Year was completely bonkers. My child started preschool and in between the normal busyness of life, she’s experienced wave after wave of the Preschool Plague (which I wrote about here for Spectator.)
A long time ago, a woman told me, “You can have it all—just not all at the same time.” I’ve found this to be true, especially as a mother of a toddler. I know that these early years are precious and fleeting. As we approach her third(!) birthday, I’m hyper aware of how it’s practically tomorrow before she is gone at school all day. Every single thing I say “yes” to — is ultimately time away from her in these formative early years. It’s also time away from my husband, my kitchen (my happy place), a workout.
The other thing that always falls through the cracks when I’m saying “yes” to everything, is my writing. Trump’s second reelection bookmarks a pretty wild and life-changing decade of my life. Writing is how I process my life. It’s how I process the world around me. I want to process the last ten years of my life and American life and since no publisher wants that book from me, I will probably do it here.
Last year was a make-or-break year for us here at Phetasy. We survived. We took Walk-Ins Welcome back from the network we had a licensing deal with and are completely on our own. In some ways, this was terrifying. It meant we didn’t have professionals selling ads for us. It meant a loss of some guaranteed income. So I said “yes” to almost everything. Every opportunity to get in front of a new audience. Yes to almost every podcast that asked.
This year is the first year things are somewhat “normal” for me in a long, long time. It’s not a pandemic. I’m not pregnant. I’m not breastfeeding. I’m not moving. I’m not scattered. I am doing comedy again regularly. I am centralizing and saying “no” to almost everything outside my own content. Appearances are great—and I’m grateful for the opportunity to be on anyone’s else’s podcast, show, etc…I’ll make some exceptions (my buddy Joe)—but for the most part—I’m taking the year to fully focus on family, content, and comedy.
A word about our subscriber content: Factory Settings, Another Round, Letters From the Politically Homeless, and the Founding Member content will drop monthly, on Wednesdays, moving forward. Sorry for the delay or confusion. We will be getting into a routine with these, since we have upped our Dumpster Fire output, we had to figure out what was sustainable. It’s still just me and Cousin Maggie and we appreciate your understanding and patience.
To those of you who are subscribers, I cannot tell you what it means to us. You’ve allowed us to say no to bad deals. You keep us independent. You make it possible for us to make all this content. I do not take your attention or resources for granted. I will not let you down. It’s going to be amazing. Thank you for supporting us on this wild journey—believe it or not—we are only getting started.
Wherever this finds you: Just keep going.
I will also get a bit personal. (Make it about ‘me’ for a minute).
1. I found you on Joe Rogan way back. It may have been your first sit down with him. I love his show when he’s comfortable with his guests. You could feel that immediately in your banter. You also were not just witty for the sake of being witty. It was not performative (I hate that word, but find myself using it more often), it naturally arose in the midst of substantial conversation. My favorite things to hear. I immediately googled Walk Ins Welcome and fell deeply in love with you and every guest you hosted. (And never lose the opener with Cousin Maggie. It sets the tone)
2. You are interested in digging deeper into the things I love to think to death. It helps me process faster so I can move on to my next obsession. Love that.
3. I met you during the pandemic, (Calgon - take me away! -just dated myself. Whatever), then the election!, then all the other collective tragedies, phetasies, curiosities, etc. I’m still kind of in my honeymoon phase with you. Don’t think I’ll ever lose it.
4. And finally - blindside of all blindsides, on Dec 18, 2023, I was diagnosed with stage 4 Pancreatic cancer. I was an active, community theater dabbler, silly mom/grandma (Kiki) who loved life just like it was. Things were/are so uncertain, daunting, maddening! I needed my warm fuzzies more than ever. Your soothing voice, stubborn attachment to truth and common sense, your own vulnerability about your very difficult struggles, your gallows humor. ALL of it is exactly what I needed/need. I’m still here! I still laugh, I still cry, I still move when I can, and I still want to learn. (I was a horrible student, but I like feeling smart, at least!)
5. I feel like I found a virtual friend all those years ago. If I never meet you in person (which I’d love to do some day) I need you to know that you make people feel at home. And WELCOME.
I might not be active at the moment over at Locals but I will always automatically renew my subscription because I believe in you and want to keep your voice amplified. I'll try to check in at some point and say hi. Love, Katastrophy