why am I even writing these?
I think it has something to do with the fact that I basically grew up on xanga and livejournal, then met and fell in love with tumblr throughout my young adult years. I relished in the beautiful joy of transcribing my thoughts, exuberances and heartaches into written words on a screen. (I consider myself very lucky to have grown up to become a “writer”.) but these half-witty, half-emo confessions then bubbled into a tiny community of encouraging confidantes. sometimes complete strangers (who I later met irl!) I guess I grew up blogging in one form or another. this latest iteration feels more intimate, less polished/formatted, more light and truer than what Instagram can afford me right now. so thank you for being here:)
now onto an important bewilderment..
why don’t we eat stuffing all year-round?
it’s honestly delicious and a wonderful solution for stale bread. I think I’ve talked to my cousin Jen about this but imagine: peach stuffing topped with fresh mint in the summer. or a leek and fava bean-dotted stuffing come march? come on, now! I feel like we could be on to something here folks, who’s in?
I was just talking with my college roommate who I am still very close with, about how hard it is to make friends outside of work, post-schooling. I enjoy a lot of aspects about working remotely (even sans-pandemic) but one thing I miss most is rushing out of the office and hauling ass to tony’s/ERB/sonny’s hideaway and sipping half price french 75’s and downing a slice of pizza or a greasy cheeseburger while decompressing. this sometimes meant talking massive shit about toxic bosses —that I don’t miss one bit. but! there’s something about working alongside someone, the feeling of going into battle together that unites you so thoroughly.
I miss coworkers I haven’t spoken to in years, but that might just be the type of person I am, too.
yesterday, L & I went for a ride. we took Pepe (a 2010 triumph street-triple r) up angeles crest right up to the closed mt. wilson road. y’all, it was b l i s s f u l. it was 1pm and the weather was perfect: blue skies strafed with clouds, cold and brisk, but mottled with swaths of warming sun. there’s something utterly transcendental about being on the back of a motorcycle as it carves an exquisite line through the canyon roads. with every turn, you feel the earth rotate in tandem with you, as if sharing the same perfect axis.
nat king cole’s “unforgettable” came on as I saw a pair of jet black birds ride a warm air current, spiralling upwards higher and higher and I actually felt a splash of pure happiness just being there, watching.
we got lucky boy burritos on the way home and I insisted we do this more often. both bike rides and the burritos.
I bought it so you wouldn’t have to:
the kirkland “ferrero rochers” are not as good as the original. L & I did a blind taste test one night before watching handmaid’s tale and it just tastes…flatter. less decadent and more modifier-filled. go with gold.
lastly,
what are 3 things you can see right now?
for me: a sardinian cookbook, a helium-filled H, a sleeping, freshly bathed Gus.
this is what my friend mel had to say:
—— hit REPLY— and let me know, won’t you?
post.script.
as you can probably tell, I’ve switched from tinyletter to substack (I hope this made it into your primary inbox. move it from promotions/god-forbid-spam, will ya!) for it’s ease-of-use and because I really badly wanted to share this video of fancy dancing feets made by my friend, Mykka. I hope it makes your sunday marnin as lovely as mine!
adieu, my watermelon hi-chews!
xx