August 26, 2024

My Turn!

I've realized it's time to stop making sacrifices for others and start prioritizing myself. If I don't take this step now, it might never happen—and that's a daunting thought. For so long, my life has revolved around meeting the needs of those around me, without anyone asking, "What about you? What will make you happy?"

It's time to change that narrative. I'm ready to focus on my own happiness and well-being. If I succeed, I'll share my journey and the strategies that helped me get there. Let's make our happiness a priority! 🌟

Where are my Thoughts?

I haven’t been blogging much lately, and I’m not entirely sure why. I have the time and plenty of thoughts to share, yet I rarely sit down to write. The issue might be that my ideas come at the most inconvenient times—like when I am making my bed and not near my computer. As a result, those thoughts go unwritten, which is a shame because articulating them could help clear my cluttered mind for new ideas.

It’s a shame because getting these thoughts out really helps clear my cluttered mind. Without that outlet, I find it harder to make good decisions. My old blog posts fill at least three thick books—real, substantial collections of my musings on life, the world, and everything in between. Over the past year, though, I haven’t blogged at all. Does this mean I’ve lost interest in my own life? I’m not sure.

But I’ve decided it’s time to start again, even if I feel like I have nothing significant to say. Someday, I’ll open one of those big books and find a blog post about a recipe I’d completely forgotten. And at that moment, it will all feel worth it.


Dennis is UNHAPPY

Life often presents us with difficult decisions and unexpected changes. Currently, we are contemplating whether to build a new house or buy an existing one, primarily because Dennis has grown tired of the pool we installed four years ago. His discontent has affected my own feelings toward the pool, and now it feels like a burden rather than a joy.

When you invest time, effort, and money into something, and it isn't appreciated, it can be disheartening. This extends beyond just the pool; it applies to the entire home. Our house is beautiful, with immaculate landscaping and a backyard that resembles a vacation oasis. But Dennis's reluctance to maintain the pool has dampened my enthusiasm as well. Everything in life requires effort, from maintaining our homes and bodies to enjoying activities outside. The yard should be no different.

However, Dennis's persistent complaints have led me to reconsider our living situation. I don't want to stay in a place where neither of us is happy. Yet, I also don't want to move into a house that lacks the amenities we currently enjoy. If we decide to move, the new place must meet all our needs, including spaces for our grandchildren to play when they visit.

Ultimately, we are at a crossroads. Whether we choose to build a new home, purchase an existing one, or stay put, our decision will shape our future.

Where are my people?

Am I the only one seeking more grown-up experiences? While my friends seem stuck in teenage habits, I'm craving connections with people who understand the challenges of adulthood. I want to bond with those who have kids, grandkids, and relatable life experiences. I'm not interested in chasing youth, finding new relationships, or obsessing over our looks. I want friends who accept that aging is a natural part of life and share similar perspectives. Are there others out there feeling the same way?

June 30, 2024

Bridgerton's Writers Are Losing the Plot – Literally

 There was a time when Julia Quinn’s Bridgerton series promised escapism of the coziest kind—an otherworldly jaunt into Regency England, where love always triumphed, wit sparkled brighter than diamonds, and every couple’s story was wrapped with a romantic bow. For fans of the books, Netflix’s adaptation initially seemed a dream come true. But as seasons progressed, the middle ground between the original novels’ charm and the series' creative liberties became a battleground, leaving devoted viewers and readers wondering what exactly went wrong.

If you've been feeling like the show has abandoned the spirit of its beloved source material, you're far from alone. Book lovers, Bridgerton fans, and romance enthusiasts alike have voiced growing frustrations—and it's not just about a shortage of steamy scenes. The crux of the issue lies in the storytelling itself. New agendas, unfaithful portrayals, rushed pacing, and perhaps an unrelenting desire to make the show "bigger" are eroding the heart of what once made Bridgerton so enchanting. Let's break it down.

Where Did the Romance Go?

At its core, Quinn’s Bridgerton series was never meant to be a crowded stage. Each book keyed in on one couple's love story, giving readers time to sink into their chemistry, struggles, and eventual bliss. We fell head over heels, book by book, as Quinn delivered slow-burn romance wrapped in intricate dialogue and quiet moments of depth. Every story felt like an intimate dance—a waltz, not a chaotic jig.

The TV adaptation, however, has taken a dramatically different route. Season 2 had devotees of Anthony and Kate (The Viscount Who Loved Me) eager for their favorite romance to shine on-screen. What they got instead was a fragmented narrative that placed obligations to side characters and ensemble drama above the titular love story. The electric tension Anthony and Kate shared in the books was often watered down or swept aside to make room for subplots and distractions.

Season 3 appears to be following a similar script. Colin and Penelope, one of the series' most anticipated (and longed-for) couplings, are a fan favorite thanks to Romancing Mister Bridgerton. Yet, early indications, rumors, and the treatment of central romances thus far have left fans bracing for another round of disappointment. The slow-building repartee, trust, and vulnerability readers adored are at risk of becoming collateral damage in the writers’ pursuit of a show that prioritizes spectacle over heart.

Too Many Agendas, Too Little Respect

It’s not the existence of adaptation liberties that has fans crying foul—it’s the rewriting of characters and themes that feel disingenuous to Julia Quinn’s world. No one denies that adaptations necessitate changes; TV is a different medium, after all. Characters should feel three-dimensional, and storylines often need embellishments to translate effectively on screen. But when these creative choices strip beloved characters of their core identities, fans can’t help but wonder—is this still Bridgerton, or just a show wearing its name?

Take, for instance, the argument that certain narratives are being altered to fit modern themes or agendas. While diversity of thought and representation should be celebrated, these shifts can feel hollow when they come at the expense of nuanced storytelling. Fans aren’t asking for historical accuracy over inclusivity; they’re asking for relatable characters who respect the fabric woven by the original author. The disconnect between book readers and the Netflix writers often boils down to this issue—rewriting for the sake of your own point of view is fine, but not when it obliterates the essence of why people fell in love with these characters in the first place.

Rushing the Seasons Forgets What Is Sacred

For a series with eight (arguably dense and emotional) books, eight episodes per season should feel like a gift. That’s eight hours to dig into a romance, explore the nuances of individual arcs, and pay respect to Quinn’s reflective themes about family, identity, and love. Yet, for fans, these episodes seem to do the opposite—they speed through poignant conflicts, gloss over subtleties, and too often substitute quantity for quality.

The brilliance of a romance novel like The Viscount Who Loved Me lies in its pacing—every charged glance between Anthony and Kate, every biting remark, every chink in their protective armor. Without the time to develop that slow, simmering tension, their romance risks feeling weightless; a spark squashed before it could become a forest fire.

Contrast this with other period dramas with similar ambitions (The Buccaneers, for example, a show many frustrated readers are turning to). While Bridgerton churns out seasons and tries to juggle too many subplots, shows like this achieve balance by staying laser-focused on their setting and relationships. They don’t feel rushed because—with a single relationship anchoring the drama—viewers have the opportunity to invest fully.

Why Adapt When You Could Create?

Another resounding question among fans is why the Bridgerton series was purchased at all if the intention was to rewrite its DNA. Yes, embellishment is expected, but the adaptations have often crossed the line into upheaval. At times, it feels as though the creators are more interested in wearing Bridgerton as a brand name rather than honoring its heart.

Why not craft original stories instead? If the aim is to push new narratives or explore character arcs outside the bounds of the books, surely the energy spent reshaping existing material could be channeled toward innovation. Audiences are hungry for original period dramas, as the success of The Buccaneers shows. And when you create characters from scratch, nobody can accuse you of writing them out-of-character.

A Romance Renaissance—Elsewhere?

For some disheartened fans, the frustration with Bridgerton has led them to explore other shows in the genre. The Buccaneers, a fresh period drama with sharp writing and a clear focus, is gaining traction among viewers craving better narratives. Where Bridgerton has faltered, The Buccaneers appears to excel, delivering cohesive character arcs and staying true to its thematic core.

The wild success of shows like The Gilded Age and Outlander only proves that there’s a massive appetite for historical romance when it’s done right. These shows remind us just why we fall in love with characters in the first place—they are inspired by, not overshadowed by, the writers’ own agendas.

Carrying the Torch of Romance

Is all hope lost? Maybe not. Some fans remain optimistic that future seasons of Bridgerton could learn from these missteps, returning to the soul of Quinn's work. Stripping back the noise, allowing romances to breathe, and rediscovering the elegance in simplicity could breathe new life into the series.

For now, though, it’s hard not to lament the opportunities wasted—a golden ticket to tell eight timeless love stories, squandered by an overdose of ambition and creative wandering. But for those ready to move on, there’s no shortage of alternatives waiting to sweep you off your feet, from period dramas to novels just waiting for their time in the spotlight.

If you’re feeling as disenchanted as many of us, perhaps it’s time to start exploring beyond Bridgerton. We may not have Antony and Kate exactly how we imagined them, but we’ll always have the promise of future romances that remind us why we swoon.