Category: Over-Thinking

Candy is Dandy but Liquor is Quicker

Three Things (and a video)

  1. I hope you had a happy Valentine’s Day
  2. I hope no one gave you conversation hearts
  3. Because I would never wish that on you

We Need to Talk About Jessica

It’s been 12 days since Netflix removed “Murder She Wrote” from its offerings. I was only on season six. I feel like someone very dear to me was irrevocably torn from me, never to return. Which is ridiculous, of course. I can always get a TV and watch reruns on PBS.


I will never leave you, Jessica.

It’s been 12 days and I feel like I should have moved on by now, but I can’t. I just can’t. In true Jessica Fletcher style, I have a lot of questions. And some of them are the hard kind.

We Need to Talk About Jessica

  1. Where can I buy every outfit Jessica Fletcher owns? Practical, yet stylish! Understated, yet elegant. You can have your Gwen Stefanis and your Jackie Onassises. I have Angela Lansbury.
  2. Someone go put Angela Lansbury in a bunker where nothing can hurt her and time cannot reach her. Also, would it be weird if I asked her to sign my boob?


    I just love her so much.

  3. How can one woman have so many nieces and nephews? Has anyone ever counted how many she has? I feel like the number might be in the low thousands. Mrs. Fletcher’s include Sarah Conner and Monica Gellar, which leads me to an additional question. Why didn’t Sarah Conner turn to Aunt Jess when the Terminator was coming for her? Mrs. Fletcher fears nothing except marriage proposals from rich older men.
  4. How come no one has heard of the hundreds of homicide cases that J.B. Fletcher, internationally renowned mystery writer, has solved? Think about Steven King. If Steven King was involved in any way in even one spooky incident, it would be all the media talked about for weeks. And yet every time Jessica shows up on a new crime scene, she has to explain her whole deal.
  5. Why is Jerry Orbach talking like that and getting away with it? Why hasn’t anyone slapped the noir out of him?


    But I won’t lie. If I was a dame with legs up to here, I’d be hanging around him looking for trouble.

  6. When did crime procedurals get gory? For the first few episodes of Murder She Wrote, I kept noticing there was no blood anywhere near the bodies and thought that being drained of bodily fluids was going to be an important part of the mystery.
  7. Are you a jerk in the world of “Murder She Wrote”? You’re gonna die.
    Are you an old friend of Jessica’s we just met? You’re gonna die.
    Are you the first person the sheriff thought committed the crime? Good news! You’re innocent!
    Are you being helpful in your interactions with Jessica? Bad news! You’re the murderer!
    Are you a relative of Jessica’s (and if so, how? HOW CAN ONE WOMAN HAVE THIS MANY NIECES AND NEPHEWS?!)? You’re preternaturally talented at something but are still gonna get wrongfully accused of murder. Unless you’re her nephew Brady, in which case you are bad at everything you do, your wife is ridiculous, and someone’s gonna get murdered at your wedding. But don’t worry — it will be zany.
  8. In what kind of universe does this show take place? Nobody’s freaked out about ALL OF THE MURDERS that keep happening. Half of Cabot Cove has been killed, and the other half committed the killings, but it’s still supposed to be quaint, backwoods-y Maine. If this is normal for a small town, how many murders are happening in large cities? HOW IS ANYONE STILL ALIVE?
  9. Why isn’t Jessica completely freaked out by the violent crime that constantly hangs around her? Why isn’t she incredibly depressed and afraid to get close to anyone? Is this the perfect formula for a gritty reboot starring me and Angela Lansbury’s original wardrobe? I think it might be.


    I’ve already begun writing the pilot on my typewriter.

  10. In fact, why isn’t anyone suspicious of Jessica? Everyone she has ever met has either murdered someone, aided and abetted a murder, or been wrongfully accused of murder. That’s a lot of death, and there’s only  one common denominator—the sweet, older mystery writer who just happens to wander onto the crime scene and notice things no one else sees. She weasels her way in with law enforcement and then conveniently makes a perfect case that pins the crime on someone else. Is “Murder She Wrote” just a catalog of Jessica Fletcher’s many killings? And is it possible that every law enforcement officer on the show knows she’s a psycho killer, but is too afraid to say anything because she is utterly ruthless and has an extensive network of nieces and nephews who can do her dirty work for her? Is “Murder She Wrote” more accurately titled, “‘I’m Totally a Murderer,’ She Wrote”?!

Maybe… maybe I won’t look for the next rerun on PBS.12

Back in the Saddle Again

Hey, whoa! It’s me! Writing a blog post! This is kind of surprising, because things got weird there for a while and I disappeared.


Kind of like this! …Kind of.

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Have Your Best Morning Ever

Look, I’m just a girl trying to live my best life. I do my best to eat right, although my green-smoothies-for-breakfast phase ended when I decided human beings have teeth for a reason (and it’s not just to catch chia seeds). I strive for a work-life balance so I can spend less time at the office and more time with my family cats. I’m 18-months into DIYing my entire living room, and the asbestos tests came back negative. I even recently took up meditation to get my spiritual self in order. So far my spiritual self likes falling asleep cross-legged and being mindful of how mindful I’m not being.


Maybe I should get more open flames involved.

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How to Be a Polite Human on Instagram

I practiced for the school spelling bee for weeks in the fifth grade, and when the big day came, I spelled my way to safety through a dozen rounds. Eventually it was down to me and one other kid, standing in the front of the auditorium while the whole school sat and watched. My opponent had just flubbed a word, and if I spelled the next one correctly, I’d win the whole thing. A kindergartner in the front row held her breath while I walked up to the microphone.

“Corral,” I said. “C-O-R-R-A-L. Corral.”

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Pictured: a dramatic pause.

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