I hadn’t realized that Sean Astin became president of SAG-AFTRA last year (in a landslide victory) because that’s not the sort of thing that people whose only connection to Hollywood is through a screen tend to know. That’s also why I hadn’t realized that his mom (whose name I had to look up) had previously held the position.

Yet I wasn’t surprised to learn that, as part of this role, Astin is standing up with actors when it comes to negotiating AI use in movies and TV. I remember his activism with the now-defunct Vox Populi, a podcast that I wrote about as an influence way back when. Somewhere in my file box is a letter from Astin and a signed photo of him as Samwise Gamgee as thanks for my participation. Of course, I doubt that my posting about Vox Populi helped propel it. I’m sure that Astin’s success was far more crucial than my participation. Still, it left a mark on me regarding his character, a mark that’s only supported by Astin’s work for SAG-AFTRA.

I don’t think it’s a surprise that Astin picks so many roles that allow him to showcase his innate compassion, loyalty, and sensitivity. I should hope that, if he ever saw my words, Sean Astin wouldn’t think that I’m accusing him of being a bad actor. Rather, he’s a good one because he puts so much of himself into his roles. He is Sean Astin playing someone else, and we love him for it–at least, I do.

It’s easy to imagine a world where he wasn’t beloved by four different fathers or raised by a woman described as resilient, much as he has been, that would have eaten him alive (my fingers want to type “chewed him alive” and confuse those two sayings). Sean Astin has no doubt benefited from being Hollywood royalty. Many men with a disposition similar to the one he seems to possess have been less fortunate. But as a result of his luck, the audience, his co-workers, and the world as a whole have also—and will continue to—benefit.

Without his activism, Sean Astin would still deserve the role as president. His illustrious career is longer than my life, after all. His activism only makes him that much more suited to take on the current challenges presented by AI, as he has done over the past year. It’s funny how, for those paying attention, his off-screen work can be the impetus to become a fan just as much as his on-screen work.

I could keep it in check buuut why bother?!

Who knew that Sean Astin might be the hero we all need?

That’s exactly what I said to TOFA after telling her that, surprisingly, shockingly, I’d just received an email from a functioning fanlisting in 2025. I clicked away from the email client I’ve been using for more than 20 years to start a post on a website with origins even older.

I had no idea anyone was still running fanlistings. I shut down the ones I ran (around a decade ago?) and took down all my codes because almost all of them were broken links. At the time, TFL had been seemingly dead for a while. At one point, the domain might have expired too. So, color me surprise when, in two thousand freaking twenty-five, I get an email from a functioning fanlisting and TFL is back up.

A quick search suggests that fanlistings might be experience a small rennaiscance due to Neocities, and if I were so inclined, I could visit and comment on some of those sites and find some to link and potentially make new friends. I don’t know if I want to do that per se, but it’s nice to browse, to experience the nostalgia. Yet it’s not just that. Because there’s newer art styles and topics and trends — I see links to Patreon and bandcamp uploads, and references to Youtube that are newer than personal sites like this — but it’s an homage nonetheless. (I wonder if anyone used Lissa Explains to learn HTML/CSS?!).

Some of the Neocities sites feel a bit more grown up, perhaps because they’re people who experiencing this the first time around and want to return to a time before the Internet existed solely to make us miserable and profit off of us. (It’s hard to tell because some of the websites are creatively cryptic, much the same as ours were back then). But some are clearly by people who never lived through that era and are clambering for something, anything, that’s a bit more human and less ~interactive~ than the phones that constantly assault our attention.

Who can blame them?

Pushing back against a time where everyone has the same profile on the social media giants, when everything has to be mobile friendly, and lives can be ruined by the public nature of, well, seemingly everything, with a personal website where you can be as crazy, even ridiculous as you want to and isn’t constantly pinging you? Tastes a little like freedom, I’m sure.

So, I’ll take the guestbooks and custom cursors and tiny text spaces in lieu of mobile slop, thank you very much. And I’ll appreciate the differences, the growth and awareness, that’s displayed on many of these sites without an algorithm shoving it down our gullets and trying to manipulate our emotions with it for ~engagement~.

You know, it’s funny. Back in 2007, when I first joined Facebook, and we could all enter our interests,
I thought, “This is like fanlistings! Now, everyone can show their fandom without having a website.” Oh, how naive I was! That was before companies took over all those interest pages and used them to advertise. Sure, it’s nice to see posts from your favorite band. But let’s be honest: most of what we want to see is hidden, and we’re bombarded with sponsored posts and, for some reason, those from pages or groups we don’t even follow.

It was also before everything on the Internet was written with a space after every two sentences because God forbid someone actually read. I had to force that paragraph together because it’s become so ingrained in me that people have no attention span, which, while true, is only exacerbated by leaning into it.

I don’t really need to spend more time complaining about the Internet. I bitch, I moan, I kvetch. But for a little bit today, I remembered, and it felt like.. home.

This post brought to you by my 39th birthday.

5. Superior Falls

Frustrating, honestly. We completely missed the trail to the lookout–because it was mentioned on only one tiny sign among TWENTY on the dam perimeter–which was just another spot behind a fence and not at all close to the dam. People have clearly forged trails, both inside and outside the fence, to get closer but I’m not sure there’s a really good spot to view from up top.

There’s a much more noticable trail on the other side that forks, which is the one we originally took. The upper fork goes to a bench that overlooks Lake Superior that feels like an afterthought and is partially obscured. For those who are adventurous, you can take the fork downward, which gets you much closer to the falls near the base. However, it was late in the day and I already had blisters forming, so I skipped it.

4. Saxon Falls

I added this waterfall to my list because my grandpa lived in Saxon for a while and had spent some time here, so it was a sentimental visit. There’s only one path from from the parking lot next to the dam, and it’s short is short, however. So it’s a nice stop if you’re in the area.

In terms of awe, it’s not the most impressive. It’s small-ish–smaller than Superior Falls but less frustrating, otherwise, Saxon Falls would be last place–and you can only see it from a trail across the water that lacks good photo and viewing opportunities. However, you can clearly see how the ground has given way to visitors before, so it’s necessary for the fence to be further in.

Neither Superior Falls nor Saxon Falls are parks. You’re allowed to view them on the land owned by Excel Energy, which is why the signage and lookouts are lacking. I almost wonder if they’re trying to subtly discourage people from visiting.

3. Copper Falls

Our first stop on the trip and the first waterfall I really knew of in northern Wisconsin. It’s part of a state park that includes much more than the waterfalls and could be a whole weekend (camping) trip. However, it’s easy enough to do as part of the day trip due to a loop called Doughboys Trail, which starts near the gift shop. The path is marked at 1.7 miles and you can cross the bridge or head right to do it in reverse. Either way, you’ll come across the accessible lookout, Brownstone Falls will be in the middle of your loop, and you’ll have to descend and ascend numerous stairs.

It’s not the only waterfall in the park (see below), and you get to enjoy the general park, including rock formations and a small rocky area near the low point of the Bad River. This is fortunate because Copper Falls are interesting but certainly not breathtaking. I think they’ve been oversold due to the park itself.

Visitors can view only Copper Falls from either side of the Bad River, with the larger lookout connecting to a shorter accessible trail to an accessible parking lot, which becomes. Because the Doughboys Trail took much longer than I expected due to stairs and stops, the accessible trail is also a good option when you’re crunched for the time necessary to see multiple falls and more of the park.

2. Brownstone Falls

Honestly, I’d name the park after these falls. You don’t get super close–there’s only one really good lookout in the park–but they’re infinitely more impressive than the more divided copper falls in terms of drop. You’ll need to ascend some stairs from Copper Falls to get to them (if you headed to the bridge first), but could double back to avoid the majority of the stairs on the Doughboys trail. If you’re short on time and stamina but don’t necessarily need the accessible route, this would be a good option.

1. Interstate Falls

Even though Interstate falls isn’t the largest in that I visited–or in Northern Wisconsin–it is probably the most memorable. Don’t believe what Google Maps tells you. Access is not in Michigan. Look for the sign on the Wisconsin side off highway 2. I don’t think you’ll be disappointed.

The payoff compared to the amount of effort a short cannot be beat. There’s a relatively easy hike from the parking (full of good signage) lot to multiple lookouts close to the top and bottom of the falls, offering fantastic photo opps. You can hear the waterfalls well before you can see them and practically feel the the water falling you’re so close! It’s a real multi-sensory experience.

2025 has been the year of waiting-to-hear-back-about-graduate-applications. Also the year of interviewing and visiting schools, contacting potential apartments, and filling out scholarship applications. To say it’s been nerve-wracking and exhausting would be the understatment of the year.

Of course, it’s also been the year of a new old administation. The year of defunding science and education. The year of we-can’t-afford-to-take-you-on or we’d-love-to-have-you-but-have-no-funding.

Which makes it the year I won’t be starting my PhD program. And a year of mourning if I’m being fully honest. And I probably should be.

I thought getting in would be the hard part. Maybe in previous years that would have been the case. Not in 2025.

I suppose the end of this year will also involve submitting a few more applications. I think I’ve got that much in me. It’s certainly not how I hoped I’d end the year.

I’d like to take solace in knowing that I’m not alone in my struggles. Or by the fact that so many people are glad I’m not leaving in a few months, but I’m not there yet. At best, I can breathe–and sleep–and little easier knowing that the wait is over, for now at least. But there’s still the dumpster fire surrounding us, so it’s not that I can breathe that easy.

Oy, 2025. What are you doing to us?!

Although grades haven’t posted, I am done with my undergrad. What was once unknown anxiety-inducing territory became my norm. And, now, it has come to an end, bringing with it new anxiety-inducing changes.

It’s a little anticlimactic. As an online student, I didn’t get to know anyone super well. I also opted not to go to graduation for various reasons, not the least of which is how boring those ceremonies are. I’ll do something super informal next month, but I suppose the lack of a flashy end is par for the course for untraditional students like me.

But I did it, anyway. I went back to school in my mid-30s. I managed a 4.0 for the first six semesters, which earned me an invite to the Honors College. I’ve also earned honors in my specific college and an invite to the Phi Kappa Beta honor society that, as far as I can tell, is about the only one worth joining. I turned a service-learning opportunity into a paying gig along the way. I signed up for two internships, one which set me on the path to sex educator certification and the other that got me closer to research to strengthen my graduate school applications.

All that sounds pretty good, although I’m still struggling to feel pride. Maybe there was some in the late beginning, but it’s hard to find now, especially as I find myself at the end of the era and unsure what I’m doing next. Imposter syndrome is a bitch, anyway.

The plan is to forge ahead with graduate school apps and take things day by day. People keep saying it’s ambitious. It feels more like it’s what’s necessary to keep me afloat. I don’t know.

Endings are always bittersweet, aren’t they?