Tara Dublin Is An Untapped Writing Goldmine

For as long as I can remember, people have been telling me to shut up. I was a curious eldest daughter raised in New Jersey during what I call “Peak GenX” (the 70s and 80s). I would always ask questions of the adults around me, from my parents to our neighbors to my teachers, but I was never satisfied with the simple responses meant to shush me and send me away. I wanted to know why, how, who, where, and WHY AGAIN. “Shut up, Tara,” they’d hiss. “Stop talking!” But I wouldn’t.

Hey hey friends, subscribers, and anyone else who might come across my Substack! I’m not going to be around the internets very much this week because my mom is visiting from NYC and we only have until Friday afternoon together, so she’s my rightful priority this week and I want to spend every waking minute with her that I can, which I hope you’ll understand. She’s staying in a fancy-schmancy hotel this time, so maximizing our time together is even more important to me.

My Instagram feed is an interesting melange of politics, petite clothes, Portland, peri/post-menopausal women, and prophecies related to my Zodiac sign (Taurus, as you would expect if you know me even a little). The algorithm really plays with me with that last one, sending me tarot readings, energy healing, and money manifestations. Because those videos are for “the collective,” you can find pretty much anything in them that relates to your current status.

Did you know that the fireworks in Washington, DC, last night were the BEST IN HISTORY? The biggest, most beautiful Except they weren’t. Show me a better visual metaphor representing all of Trump’s failures. The weather has been literally plaguing the adjudicated rapist pedo for the last couple of weeks. Mother Nature first disrupted and delayed the not-at-all-gay UFC Slapfest on his birthday (where he fell asleep once it finally started).

Hey kids, your English Teacher and your Gym Teacher are getting married this weekend! Yay for weddings and love and pictures in frames of kisses on cheeks and other happy-making moments! Good news is always good, and I can’t think of anything we need more at this moment than the distraction of a happy couple getting married. Joy is an act of defiant Resistance, even when it’s not at all political.

Welcome to the most manic MAGA Monday we’ve had in a while, my friends! Instead of waking up to more nightmare news, we got a whole bunch of wins this morning thanks to—I shit you not—the Supreme Court. Yes, the same unbalanced, biased body bought and paid for by Harlan Crow and his pals.

As a wise philosopher once sang, “It’s not easy being green.” However, Kermit could never have predicted the White House would be occupied by a petty petulant pedophile green with envy over how beloved his Democratic predecessors are.

The last few weeks have been full of a lot of things I’ve been grateful for, even as the Trumpian nightmare garbage fire global embarrassment continues to rage. Among those things is just my basic health, which is something we all take for granted until we can’t. I thankfully had a negative biopsy result late last month after experiencing some breakthrough bleeding caused by the HRT regimen I’d been prescribed.

How is Friday again already? This week has been a busy one for me, work-wise, which is a great thing to be able to share. I’m sorry I haven’t written this week, but I meant to. It just seemed like every time I sat down to write here, something else popped up to distract me. I got to be on the radio on Tuesday, which I always say I “get" to do, because I feel so lucky every time I fill in or guest on SiriusXM Progress.

For the last few days, I’ve been collaborating with Jane Pratt on an original piece about Dave Grohl. I’ve been saying it everywhere, but had you told mid-90s me that this would be a thing that would happen in my life, I would’ve spit my Diet Coke all over my Delia’s catalog. From pitching the basic premise in a Substack DM to roughly 13298571925601 emails and texts, Jane and I shaped my essay into something I’m very proud of.