Dear Internet,

This morning (Saturday) I taught a class on information literacy for an online writers’ group. I’ve taught variations of this class in the past, mainly concentrating on college students using the college library’s resources, so I had to clean up the presentation a bit. Just like grad school, I was still tweaking when I joined the meeting. I got a lot of great feedback, so I can continue to tweak the deck to make it perfect. I’m teaching this class in July for RWA’s annual conference and at other writers’ groups later in the year.

After the class ended, I had that “oomph” of coming down from the high of teaching. I took my ADHD meds this morning, so I was super focused, but the fall from the high really did a number on me. I’ve lost all motivation to do anything (and I have a lot to do), so here I am. Writing my newsletter.

Selfish-bastard Brendan has been on my mind especially hard this week. Thursday was my birthday and every year he’s done some kind of baked good for me and this year we had a cake from Costco. (Don’t get me wrong, Costco cakes are delicious, but they are not made with love.)

Since he was so hard on my mind this morning, I recalled I never posted about my AFSP fundraiser on IG and LinkedIn. I had to create new graphics to fit their parameters and write up a short caption to post. The whole process didn’t take me long, but I started to cry when I was done. Brendan is everywhere. He’s when I bake I can hear his growly voice chiding me for using less than exceptional ingredients (per him) or sending him pictures of Thursday only to get a picture of his Corgi, Otter, back. (And sometimes pictures of his cats, Archer and Marlow.)

We had so many plans of things to do when I was to see him in March.

Just what a fucking waste.

His family never reached out to me (or to any of his other friends) to tell us where he had been buried or hell, even if they had a memorial for him. I would have gladly used my plane credits to go see him sprinkled or buried than see Erika in Iowa. (She would have understood.)

I haven’t been sad in a long time, and I’m keeping a reminder in my head that this is a natural human emotion and not some bipolar trigger that is going to send me down a spiral. I told Mr. Lisa I wanted to fuck off on the internet today, and he supported the idea.

I’ve heard doing things to keep your mind off the things that make sad can help, but the motivation levels here are low. I want to curl up and read Shakespeare Was a Woman, which posits the argument that the man we know of as Shakespeare wasn’t the author of the plays or even barely literate. I’m also reading Shakespeare’s Sisters about women writers in the Renaissance because THEY TOO DID EXIST. Don’t ask me why I have a thing for Shakespeare at the moment.

Birthday Greetings

My 53rd birthday came and went this week and it was beyond chill. Mr. Lisa got me a few bars of Tony Chocolonely and we got mani/pedis a few weeks ago. We got the Costco cake (because I kept forgetting to order from a local bakery) and had dinner at an OK steakhouse. I worked that day since we had an employee quit and I was picking up her hours.

Not many people remembered. Usually, my phone and DMs light up as wishes and tidings come through but not this year.

I’ve always made a big deal about my birthday, celebrating the 12 Days of Lisamas every year, having thrown parties in the past, and just being overall excited.

I have no idea what happened this year other than I’m in such an emotional and mental space that June 12th came and went, and I was…fine with it. I am disappointed that a few ride and dies didn’t reach out. But it is what it is.

53 isn’t a big number year but as I inch even closer to 60, I try not to beat myself up for the time that has gone.

Euro Citizen?

I don’t recall if I mentioned this in the past but Mr. Lisa was laid off back in March. He’s got a new job now (he was out of work for six weeks) but our plans for our future have changed drastically. He was set to retire in four years and now he’s…not. The lay off really fucked with our future so we’re scrambling to figure out how to make everything work.

I already have dual citizenship since I was born in Canada but having a Canadian citizenship does fuck all outside of N. America. I was hoping that with Canada being part of the Commonwealth, I would be able to move to other Commonwealth countries. Turns out the answer is a big fat no.

I got a wild hair up my ass about my German ancestry. Mr. Lisa and I have been talking about our trip to Germany last year and how my grandfather’s last name is like the Smith of Europe. I knew that his parents, or even he himself, came over via Ellis Island at the turn of the 20th C (around 1910 or so) and that Grandpa was either the last sibling born in Germany or the first sibling born in the US.

I started researching German citizenship and you can possibly get German citizenship, after all the red tape and paperwork, if you can claim German heritage dating back to your great grandparents, which I can do. Now, the problem is to find out about them to make this happen.

For reasons my brother and I would never understand, all but one of mom’s living siblings are no longer in contact with us. I am still in contact with one of my cousins so I asked her to get the deets for me. I also reached out to the sibling I am in contact with to see if she knows anything about her grandparents (I don’t have high hopes she’ll return my text because reasons).

I loved our time in Germany and felt at home there. We stopped in Cologne, Koblenz, Breisach, and Speyer. It was mid-November and the weather was shit, but it just felt right. I felt at peace.

Mr. Lisa doesn’t have a strong opinion about Germany other than he liked Koblenz a lot but thought Cologne was too touristy. (I mean, they did have a Five Guys in the downtown area of Cologne.)

What matters the most is the German passport. With Germany in the EU, we could travel and live freely without relying on buying real estate or spending only half the year in the EU. (We’ve looked at southern France, Spain, and Portugal.)

No Kings

June 14th marked the protests around the world (yes, even internationally) as No Kings day arrived to protest Trump and his cronies. I was teaching so I couldn’t make the local protest but honestly, I’m not sure if I would have gone if I wasn’t teaching.

I’ve been in a state of fear for some time now with RFK Jr’s pronouncement that mental health is a crock of shit and we need to be sent to health farms. The dismantling of the NIH and rejection of science has put the fear of god in me. The words on the wall are so clear that we’re heading to a fascist state. It hasn’t helped that Mr. Lisa and I listened to a few history podcasts recently talking about the rise of Nazism and fascism. In addition to the Jews, Nazis rounded up dissenters, mentally ill, and disabled people. Many were killed or sterilized. Eugenics ran hog wild. Scanning through peer-reviewed literature paints different numbers, but somewhere around 250-500K mentally ill people were killed or sterilized during the Nazi regime.

That could be me. That could be my mom and grandparents. It could be Mr. Lisa and his family.

I’ve been so outspoken about my mental health for decades that now I find myself, in many ways, quieter online. I was trash-talking Trump on Bluesky a few weeks ago, and this niggling feeling inside of me told me to delete the posts, so I did. The last time I got that feeling was when I was running my mouth back in 2014 and got sued for it. I didn’t listen to that feeling back then, so I made doubly sure to listen now.

I told my brother that when the revolution comes, I’m signing up whether it is to fight against fascism or our AI overlords. He asked me what I would do and I said whatever they wanted me to do. While the litigation was ongoing for the case, I stuck to my guns because I believed I was right. That fucked me in the end, but I still think I was right. So I know that when push comes to shove, I will stand my ground.

The thing is, I don’t feel that way today. I don’t feel like I can make a difference. Activists argue that not everyone is suited for protests and being visible in their activism. There are many ways to protest and make it count, and honestly? I feel like a fucking failure because I don’t see myself, nor have I done any of those things. I spend my time watching trashy TV and, if it is the weekend, popping a gummy to make the bad men go away.

American Foundation for Suicide Prevention Fundraiser

I’m fundraising for the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention for a walk on September 14. As most of you know, a very beloved person in my life, the selfish bastard Brendan McAdams, killed himself on January 10, 2025. He would have been 46 this year.

My goal is to raise $1000 USD. I've got $700 more to go. Go to AFSP’s website to donate. I'll be posting an announcement in every issue of my newsletters and regularly on my social media until the day of the walk. If you can donate even $5 or share this link (https://bit.ly/AFSPWalk2025), you will be an amazing human being.

Thank you.

Heavy Turn

Today’s issue took a heavier turn than I intended, nor did I think I was going to spill my guts to the tune of 2000 words, but here we are.

Happy Pride Month

The next issue of AMUN doesn’t happen until June 29th, but I did not want this issue to post without acknowledging Happy Pride Month! Having my birthday in June while celebrating my queer family gives me some hope.

Anyway, the image is of Brimsley and Reynolds, two gay characters from the Netflix series Bridgerton. (They are not featured in the books.) Brimsley and Reynolds’ love story is so sweet and just achingly beautiful. We do not know what happens to them, but Shondaland has not ruled out that their story isn’t over yet.

Love is love,

lisa x