Here’s a Tuna Melt

Dear Friends,

I am fully aware that last year, I essentially abandoned the blog and its social media accounts.

I feel bad about it.

Although I haven’t been posting, I want you to know I haven’t forgotten about DiS1972.

I actually think about it a lot. I’ve prepared and photographed more dinners! But I can’t get myself to write. I’m much busier at work than I have ever been. The last thing I want to do is get back on the laptop when I get home.

So, what do I want to do when I get home?

I’ve been disassociating from The Dumpster Fire That Is The World Today through wine, true crime, reality television, and the shared mass hysteria of perimenopausal women everywhere: Heated Rivalry.

And it IS hysteria.

It has broken my brain.

I’ve watched the show 3 times (that means, 1 original watch and 2 “reheats”) in as many weeks. Honestly, that number would be much higher if not for Mr. Sauce, Esq: “You’ve watched this episode 3 times!” and it being utterly NSFW. I’d be reheating in the office all day long if I could.

I bought the audiobooks, but I only listen while cleaning.

I have never vacuumed so much in my entire life. 

I have a friend from junior high (Hi, Dillon!) with whom I communicate almost solely through Hollanov memes and fan-edits on Instagram and Threads.

It’s amazing. I love it. I need more friends like her.

The soundtrack keeps rattling in my head.

FFS, I went to a HR beer-release party last night (more on that at the end of this post)***

However, I have not yet succumbed to buying merch.

But I’m going to cave soon. I know I’m going to cave soon.

I’m still choosing between a Raiders shirt because it is black and gold (then I can wear it during football season). Or a Metros shirt because: Canada. And Hudson Williams.

Now, I’m not immune to fan-girling. You should have seen me during *NSYNC’s heyday. But that was 25 years ago. Before social media. Before streaming platforms. Before everyone had a mini-computer strapped to themselves at all times.

You could step away from the madness. Now the madness follows. EVERYWHERE. Little dopamine synapses crackling with every doomscroll and every left and right swipe.

And that is why I–

–what was I saying again?

Anyway, I was recently auto-charged an exorbitant amount of money to keep hosting DiS1972 for the next 3 years, so I guess I should try to get back into it.

Soon.

I swear.

Maybe I’ll make it a rule that I can only reheat if I am also blogging!

In the meantime, here’s a tuna melt. And the recipe.

***This “party” OMG. It was a dimly lit room with a laptop and a projector, and a few tables of women sitting IN SILENCE as though they were watching a bizarre PowerPoint presentation.

My friends and I thought it would be an actual party. We were all envisioning music, the show on mute with subtitles. Yelling at the screen. At least some conversation.

We said fuck it and played trivia in the main hall. We were pretty good. We came in 3rd. My friend Sean panicked when he was asked for a team name, and we ended up with The Metros.

So it was an HR-themed night after all!