#13 Go Big and Go Home
because there is time for both
Happy Wednesday (It’s Monday)
And just like that, the summer school season draws to a close with 30% of my paycheck going toward taxes to maintain the pothole ridden roads of the Bay Area. Is that what taxes even go toward? My dad recently bought me (another) book about money, which probably holds the answer, but I’m too busy reading a period, Sapphic, detective, monster-hunting, fantasy noir set in Chicago to investigate any fiduciary or taxational responsibilities right now.
The past two weeks have been a true Himalayan journey of peaks and valleys (in this metaphor, I’m actually not sure which one is the “bad” one— peak or valley?). In any case, I’ve ended the contract of a very stressful, IBS inducing job, and have celebrated the way any elderly twenty-something does — with new orthopedic sandals to mitigate the symptoms of my plantar fasciitis. So long, Crocs! It was good while it lasted!
I write to you from one of my favorite places on planet earth: Devon’s apartment. It smells like bacon (on purpose), and I’m grooving to the sweet tunes of Poolside as she hands me the butt of the bread loaf because she knows I like the extra crunch. Dev and I normally go out on Sunday mornings either to Eddie’s in San Francisco or Mama’s Royal in Oakland to soak up all the messy memories of the night before, but this morning she is making me Cheddar Fried Eggs from Tieghan Gerard’s Every Day cookbook and I’m making my way slowly through my first cup of coffee. PS. Get you a friend who buys the groceries you like, even if she is never going to touch them herself. Lactose Free 2% milk just hangs out in this girl’s fridge even though she doesn’t have even the slightest dairy aversion. She just likes to keep me comfortable. And this is one of the many reasons, Devon will always be a better husband to me than any man on planet earth.
Waking on Sundays with the people I love is one the best parts of my life, and though I know everything must change, I hope this part never does. I’m sure shared mornings are part of the reason people get married and have children in the first place, as emerging from the other side of sleep can be so disorienting when you live alone. But for the single, child-free folks of the world, shared mornings have to be sought out and built— they aren’t the default setting of our individualist American hellscape. As someone who lives alone, I know that solitude— time to reflect and write and read and think— is a necessary pillar of my mental health. My favorite time to be alone is usually the morning before everyone else wakes, however, on Sundays I have always felt eager to chat. Sundays are for family, for being lazy and giggling, and as I’ve gotten older, the constitution of my family has changed. Now, more often than not, my Sundays are spent in the company of the family I’ve built and chosen: my friends, their partners, and their children.
As a child, I wondered often if my parents’ single friends were lonely, and I was baffled at how they could possibly be spending their time. What did they do if they weren’t going to recitals and games and eating dinner with their spouse every night? I realize now that many of them were doing exactly what they wanted, and that building a life for themselves never meant they were missing out on something better. How arrogant of me to have assumed they were.
Over the course of the past few years, I’ve invested much more effort into my friendships, and the ways we are able to show up for each other— celebrate or grieve — I’ve realized is no different than a family. We pick up each other’s prescriptions at the pharmacy, give each other rides to the airport, bring each other left-overs, pick up each other’s kids from school, help each other build IKEA furniture, make each other coffee and write each other stories. I’ve realized that life between childhood and marriage isn’t a waiting chamber, that I don’t need to wait to find a partner before building a family of my own; I already have one.
Integrating friends from different spheres — work, childhood, hobbies, etc.— can be stressful. What if they hate each other? What if their inability to get along reflects poorly on me? What if someone offends the other? What if its boring? What if people get jealous? What if I act like a weirdo in front of all of them? These fears used to plague me and prevent me from gathering all of my friends together. As a result, I always felt splintered when I reflected on community, always felt like I had a lot of irons in a lot of fires that were constantly petering out. However, as I have begun to carve out opportunities to bring these beautiful people together, I find myself enjoying our time together much more when I’m not worrying about managing their experience of it all. News flash! People not liking one another is not actually my responsibility; running interference to make sure Susan* doesn’t say the wrong thing to Beatrice* is not my problem. And no amount of trying to fix any of that will result in us feeling genuine connection in the long run. In fact, it will probably make it impossible.
Last weekend, I flew to Washington DC to see a concert and meet a few fanfiction friends in person for the first time. I couldn’t have anticipated how full my cup would feel palling around with Pareesa, Kara, Raegan and Leo or how many different shenanigans we would get into. Waterfront winery? Check. Backyard slip n’ slide? Check. Indie bookstores? Check. Combing Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone for plot holes for the thousandth time? Check. Re-watching the 2001 cinematic masterpiece “A Knight’s Tale”? Another check. Maybe I should have been nervous about how we would all get along, but not a bit of anxiety ran through my veins. It just felt like going home, like one long playdate in Kara’s backyard with the nerdiest, coolest people in the world. No agenda. No need for everyone’s energy to be matched at every moment. Just a bunch of dorks who love books and cult classic films eating bean dip together. (But like, really boujie bean dip).
Some people might think it’s weird to make friends online; some might think internet friends are less legitimate than ones whose farts you can smell up close. But I think online relationships are just like any other: if you show up as your full self and take steps to build trust over time, your experience together is probably gonna be just as kick-ass as the friend you met at your spin class. In fact, it might even be deeper because neither of you probably even really likes spin classes anyway, ya know?
I digress…All I mean to say is if you meet some cool folks by way of pursuing a hobby or an interest you are fascinated by, don’t let outdated messages around what constitutes as a legitimate friend or community stop you from opening yourself up to connection. There are lots of scammers on the internet to be sure, but there are also lots of scammers in your cul-de-sac! Do what you love and your team will appear.
As I sign off on this intro, I’m looking down at my left hand. On the middle finger sits a ring I bought for myself when I was in one of the darkest times of my life in 2020. It says “Be Brave,” and though I rarely buy myself accessories that say things (I am a survivor of the Abercrombie aughts and have a strong aversion to statement tees) I had wanted some sort of daily reminder back then that I always have a choice. I can stay doing what I’ve always done, sacrifice my own sense of self to try to make everyone else around me comfortable and happy, or I can be brave and try something new. The risk is disappointing the people around me; the reward is not disappointing myself.
What I’ve learned through a massive amount of therapy and books is that the only way to feel connected to the people around me is if I first feel connected to myself. I always desperately wanted to know what I liked, what I was good at, what made me feel worthy and purposeful. And I was so confused about why each time I thought I’d found it, I felt so lonely and disconnected. I’d been trying the inverse forever, looking for the answer in other people and trying to fit myself into whatever it was they wanted: how can I be the perfect teacher, the perfect daughter, the perfect partner? All my attempts kept me small and separate, feeling insecure and unconfident.
I still have no clue what I’m doing with my life, but I know that in the spaces of the day where I used to fantasize about living a different one, escaping my reality, and running away, I’m now living it. I’m building a soundtrack to a life that is sometimes hard, but one I haven’t wanted to run from for quite some time. I treat myself how my friends treat me: I’m kinder to myself in the moments that matter. I have, in the community I’ve built with my friends and with my art, a life I’d fight for every time. And, though I know I’ll need to manage my mental health for the duration of my life, it feels more like an honor than a chore these days. And that feels like a pretty big win.
I hope you enjoy these recommendations! I had way too many music and reading recs, so I don’t think the next newsletter is that far off :) ¡Hasta la vista, dudes!
🎧 The Retrievals (Serial and The New York Times) ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
This podcast is topping the pod charts right now and for good reason. Though this series chronicles the shocking case of an IVF nurse at Yale swapping out fentanyl for saline during egg retrieval procedures in order to feed her addiction, the most disturbing aspect of the show is how so many medical professionals refused to acknowledge the expressed pain of the women undergoing IVF treatment and how these capable and intelligent women became experts in gaslighting themselves about their experiences.
Though I had to skip some parts of it due to actual, physical discomfort hearing women describe excruciatingly painful medical procedures, the entire series is a much-needed commentary on how misogyny prevents the medical industrial complex from acknowledging and responding appropriately to anyone who isn’t a cis man. Problems with perceived credibility, of being believed and taken seriously, only get exacerbated when looked at through an intersectional lens of race and gender.
This series is an introductory look at how dangerous these biases can be when it comes to reproductive health. Shout out to Alicia, my friend who is also an IVF nurse, for the recommendation by way of Devon! (Wow, Dev is getting a lot of air time this edition. Can you tell I’ve missed her this July?)
🎵June Glüm (playlist, yours truly) ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
If you live on the coast of anywhere, you are probably familiar with the overcast sky of early summer and the particular soundtrack of emotions that accompanies it. This gray haze feels different than the coastal fog of autumn, winter, or spring because it’s not supposed to be here! It’s supposed to be warm, and I’m supposed to be wearing roller-skates, god damnit. I started this playlist in the dregs of June, but then June bled into July’s unforgiving heat, and now it’s August and children are returning to school and talking about what they want to be for Halloween. But here is a playlist for the memory of early summer as we careen clumsily toward the end of the best season.
🎵OSL’23 (playlist, Devon (yes, the Devon)) ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
In honor of this week’s music festival that brings some of the top artists in the world to San Francisco, behold Devon’s Outside Lands playlist. Single day tickets (though egregiously expensive) are still available, but many of the after dark shows are selling out fast. If you, like me, are too broke to attend, listen to this playlist and throw yourself an Inside Lands™ party in your apartment. Heed caution, however. My friend Katie did this in the summer of 2020 and got so excited when Leon Bridges came on the stream that she tripped and broke her foot. Listen at your own risk!
🎵 Beauty Sleep (Song, Taylor Ashton) ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
Sorry, you will all be receiving every Taylor Ashton single until the album comes out. (I am not sorry). I heard this for the first time live and it was saur good. I have never identified with a lyric more than I did with:
“I need my beauty sleep eight hours a night, seven days a week or I am gonna die. I hate to feel this tired while I’m alive.”
If this isn’t the soundtrack to late-stage capitalism or newfound parenthood, I don’t know what is. Get your beauty sleep, y’all!
📚I’m Glad My Mom Died by Jennette McCurdy (memoir, 2022) ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
As a watcher of iCarly growing up, I only ever knew Jennette as Sam, the rough-around-the-edges tom boy character that balanced out the classic Nickelodeon friend trio. After reading her memoir, I realize this is exactly the impression she hated leaving and one she has spent years running from. I’ll be honest, I never wondered what happened to her or looked her up on any social media after the show ended. Her memoir, however, will stick with me in a way the show could never. Her account of her childhood is one of the most surprising I’ve read recently not only due to the extreme exploitation and abuse she faced all while in the public eye, but also the structure of how it is written. Jennette is an incredibly talented writer who has given audiences the opportunity to witness in awe at the steps she has taken toward healing at such a young age. I really hope she continues to write more.
PS According to this New York Times piece, many publishers wouldn’t even read her manuscript due to the provocative title. I’m so happy a publishing house did.
📚It’s Rat Girl Summer. Grab a Snack by Maham Javaid (article, 2023) ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
Viral TikTok video from creator lolaokola is the kind of IRL energy we need during the heat waves of late summer. This article discusses the “core tenets” of living like a rat and loving every minute of it as a counter narrative to the Hot Girl Summer of years’ past. I know my friend Sina, who has a deep love for her pet rats as well as all feral rodents of the world, will appreciate the sentiment. Leo may also enjoy, as they are the biggest Peter Pettigrew stan I’ve ever met. Are rats finally having their moment? Read on to find out.
Thank you, Devon, (again) for the share! On a rat related note, thank you for also introducing me to Rat Boi hair scrunchies: upcycled and hand-sewn from ethically sourced materials in Ventura, California — shout out Camille and Katie’s hometowns!
🧁 Blueberry Clusters (via lemonsandlucy on TikTok)
I’m not sure if this counts as a recipe because it isn’t a meal, but this one is for all my sweet-tooth ridden grazers. If you know me in real life, you know I have the world’s strongest aversion to yogurt (and any white, creamy sauce, dip, or dressing for that matter). BUT WILL YOU BELEIVE I am actually considering buying one of those heinous tubs of Strauss Family yogurt just to see if I can stomach it frozen?
PS I looked every where for a digital copy of the Cheddar Friend Eggs mentioned in the intro, but to no avail. If you’re desperate, go get a copy of Tieghan Gerard’s Every Day cookbook from your local library and get to cookin’.
Perfect Name for His Pet
Ending Note & Acknowledgements:
As always, I love hearing what you’ve enjoyed about this newsletter and if anything resonated with you.
Extra love to Pareesa who, after being the world’s best YES woman and flying to DC to have the time of our lives in the summer sun, had to return to the real world. We love you so much, and tax season will be over eventually! #attorneyproblems. Shout out to my dad for putting on an awesome party and, per usual, introducing me to some cool new music. Lots of love to Katie and Chae — my summer soldiers who toiled alongside me to teach children in the hot, July sun. Extra big hugs to you both, and you know why. Shout out to LVD for the kindest letter I’ve ever received…I can’t talk about it further or I’ll cry. Shout out to Lea who starts at a new school this year! I hope you are in love with all of your new school supplies. Shout out to my uncle who gave me some great car advice after the Subaru dealership made me want to tear my hair out. I’m so grateful for your endless knowledge of reddit and car stereos. Shoutout to the Brighton Pride crew who paraded their love all around that city last weekend — it warmed my heart to see you so happy together. Shout out to the DC group chat for preventing me from going on a date with a chef…again (not all heroes wear capes). Shout out to Hilary who let me use her treadmill at like, eight pm on a Sunday because I realized I’d only taken 83 steps that day. And a big shout out to everyone who made my birthday so special with calls, texts, and quality time. You know who you are!! :)
Peace and Love!
XO,
M