#23 All My Friends Live in My Pocket
but that doesn't mean I'll pick up the phone
Happy Wednesday (It’s Tuesday),
Introductions feel hard this week, and if my therapist had anything to say about it, she would probably point to my fundamental inability to remain pReSeNt. In our last session she asked, “Are you doing that thing where you look for something to be wrong so you can prepare for the worst-case scenario because you think you can protect yourself against potential future pain?” and I may as well have been butt-ass naked in her office. “It might be time to reintegrate mindfulness into your daily routine,” is what she offered next, and I full-belly laughed while sucking on a cherry Warhead (they’re good for panic). If only it were so easy, Therese. In any case, I am trying to just exist for whatever the moment might be, which is not a particular strength of mine historically, but reader I am trying.
I have spent the better part of the last four years learning how to be alone without being lonely, practicing how to take care of myself and make myself happy because it is no one else’s job. And happy people don’t just shoot their husbands! A huge part of being alone and happy has been gathering the courage to actively do things by myself, not wait around to get invited into something. I do so many things on my own now that I don’t really think twice about it, though it did take a while to get used to just doing what I wanted after a handful of post-college moves and a few breakups. It can be intimidating to just…show up? But I take myself on dates all the time now—to the movie theater, to the diner, to bookshops and record stores, to exhibits, to the park— and usually because I am alone, I end up meeting a lot more people than I otherwise would. Don’t get me wrong, sometimes those airpods are wedged in extra tight, and I can’t be arsed to remove them for anything beyond a “hello,” but usually when I’m out and about, I feel pretty open to the world around me. It’s a more romantic way to live, I think, to allow yourself to be seen, to be moved, to be a part of something on your own.
While talking to the owner of one of my favorite diners last week, I shared how happy the restaurant makes me and what a special place it is. (I’ve been trying to say things when I feel them recently…it’s easier with strangers). He nicknamed me “the chemist” a while back since I always combine my hot chocolate with a cup of black coffee and tend to make a little mess at my table. He insists that they have a mocha on the menu, but I prefer my own experiment. (He has since started bringing me an extra cup.) This ritual reminds me of being a kid, of afternoons at the lunch counter doing my homework while my grandma waited tables at The Country Inn. I’d use my puppy dog eyes on the cooks in exchange for endless cups of hot chocolate and plates of whipped cream and leave with a sugar rush by closing. This past week, as I gathered my jacket and bag to head out into yet-another Oakland downpour, the diner owner shook his head and smiled the way older, wise men with jokes lined up often do. “This place is happy because you are happy” is what he hit me with. No jokes this time. Damn, Houshi. I guess maybe I am.
Yesterday was President’s Day and there was an action in San Francisco protesting the United States’ funding of genocide in Palestine. As I draped my keffiyeh over my raincoat and walked to Civic Center alone, I thought about every other time I’ve marched for this same issue since 2014 and how most of those times, I’ve shown up by myself. But that’s the thing about protesting; you’re never really alone. You are with the drag queens and the disabled veterans, you are with the old socialists and the student activists, you are with the children atop shoulders and the girl handing out water and sandwiches. You may have come alone, but you never remain that way. People check in on you. People smile. And as I walk, I feel my friends with me.
My friend Lana speaks often about grief and the things people leave us with — how in their absence, we pick up what they’ve left behind, tuck them in our pockets, and carry them the rest of the way. Their old hat, their laugh, their vinyls. I think these little talismans, whether they are trinkets or mannerisms, exist between the living as well. There are signs I wouldn’t glance twice at before, but I notice them now only because I know she would. I smile at her favorite buildings, not because they are mine, but because they are hers and she isn’t here to see them. I linger extra-long looking at glass jewelry now, not because I love it, but because my friend Tessa is a jewelry maker, and it reminds me of her hands. I take pictures whenever I see hearts in nature, not because I think they are pretty, but because they remind me of Toni and how much she’d love them. My pockets are full of my friends. They are the ones that help me gather my courage and do things alone, a luxury that women haven’t always had the freedom to enjoy. Solitude. On the other side of some lessons in my twenties, I understand now that it was never the being by myself that stirred up the pangs of loneliness, it was waiting in the atrium of my own life and wondering when I was allowed to begin.
I will leave you with a quote from the memoir of French teacher and activist, Emilie Carles. After moving to Paris to pursue additional education to become a teacher, she strikes up a conversation with a stranger (who later becomes her husband) on a train. She’s stressed about her life and the responsibilities she has within her own family. She struggles to accept his compliments and he says…
“Have you ever really looked at yourself? You’re young, you’re pretty, you flow with life, and what you say does not correspond with the strength you radiate. You pass sentence on yourself. I say you have the right to a life of your own.”
I hope you enjoy some alone time this week!
XO,
M
🎵 Taste of Metal by Henry Morris ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
Eat me alive, Henry Morris. No, seriously, he could ruin me, and I would thank him. He’s also so funny on Instagram. While we wait for the album, here’s his new single — out last week.
Good news: Henry Morris is playing live shows.
Bad news: they are all pretty much in Cincinnati. But if you happen to be in the area at the end of February…details below.
🎵 من النهر “From The River” by Ethel Cain ⭐️⭐️⭐️
The US vetoed yet another resolution for a ceasefire at the UN Security Council today. In this recently released track dedicated to Palestine, Ethel Cain asks “Are you watching? There is nowhere left to go. Would it matter if I looked like someone you know?”
🎵Texas Hold ’Em by Beyoncé ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
I haven’t listened to any other song in the past 17 hours. I also may take up gambling?
🎵 Wells Ferrari (acoustic / country / sad boy folk)
I first saw Mikey Ferrari perform as the opener for Richy Mitch and the Coal Miners at Cafe du Nord in SF back in August, but as of February he is freshly out of his contract with his previous record label and making music with his BFF, Will. The duo is Americana meets Urban LA Cowboy with a dash of Southern Rock? And even though Will’s tattoos, according to Pareesa, are “a real bummer,” he’s got a good voice and some lovely little riffs. Do they have any music out? No. But check ‘em out on Instagram and hopefully they will soon!
🎵 Trinity Mei (acoustic/folk/sad girl pop)
I found Trinity Mei this morning on Victoria Canal’s IG story and have been big time listening all day. Lizzy McAlpine vibes <3
🎵Taylor Ashton and Jess Nolan at Sweetwater ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
Alicia, Devon and I braved a California hurricane on a Sunday to see Taylor Ashton at the beensiest little venue in Mill Valley, and though the show may have broken records for smallest attendance in the history of ever, we had a delightfully cozy time drinking tea and listening to the ethereal rhythms of the Canadian banjo. If you know anything about me, you know Taylor Ashton is one of my absolute favorites, and I was so happy Dev and Alicia got to see his between-song-soliloquies in person. He’s saur funny and smart and played almost all of my top songs. Jess Nolan, a super talented piano player from New Jersey, opened for him and told some beautiful stories about living with her grandfather after the death of his wife and making music in her grandmother’s art studio.
🎵Evan Honer and Wells Ferrari at Cafe du Nord ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
Most cowboy hats I’ve seen in Cafe du Nord in a minute, but Evan Honer was great and also like…very sad? I wanted to leave after he played my favorite song, which is really upbeat, but of course he played it last. “idk shit about cars” is just so good. I’m happy he didn’t give up his dream after every single celebrity judge on The Voice told him to stick to swimming in college. He seems to be living his dream, and I love seeing people do what they love!
🎵Black Pumas at Fox Theater ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
I bought sixty dollars’ worth of hot dogs after this show. 10/10 night. Go listen to “Fire” on repeat and hug someone you love. (I chose my Dad, this particular night.)
Her first headline tour! It’s happening. It’s happening. Everyone, calm down!
I am no longer certain it is possible to know me without knowing The Paper Kites. We are one. Their music is the oxygen in my bloodstream.
If you love the sad-girl folk pop that comes out of Massachusetts, go see Tiny Habits this spring.
“Friend oh friend it’s 4AM what are we doing in the street? I don’t want to eat fried chicken, I wish that I was going to sleep” is one of my all-time favorite lyrics, and I am thrilled to hear it in person this March.
Oi, nah. Two nights at The Fillmore? Iconic. If you haven’t caught a Wood Brothers show I highly recommend it, even if it’s just to see Jano Rix play the keys and the drums at the same time. Personally, I would cancel most plans to see Chris Wood dance around the stage in his trademark Chucks, dipping and spinning his stand-up base like a dance partner. They are so soulful and funky and lovely. Go see them!
🎬All of Us Strangers (Drama, 2023)⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
I have an entire group chat dedicated to this film called “Survivors of All of Us Strangers” created in mid-January that continues to provide support for those affected (me).
I hesitate to say anything about this movie to those that haven’t seen it because I do believe it’s best to go in with absolutely no information. I famously don’t watch trailers of movies I really want to see, but if you need a vibe check, take a gander.
While on the press tour Andrew Scott spoke about how this film, in addition to most projects he has pursued lately, is really a story about love. I agree with him, and what I will say is that it is a film primarily about grief, which I guess is just a word for the love you’re not sure where to put anymore.
The intimacy built and sustained between all of the characters in the film is a testament not only to the brilliant acting performances of Andrew Scott, Paul Mescal, Claire Foy, and Jamie Bell, but the writing and direction of Andrew Haigh. The decision to film in his own childhood home, for example, amplified the emotional life of the characters in a way I’m not sure would have been possible on a set devoid of personal memory.
I’m not a big crier in movies unless it’s the 1998 science-fiction disaster film Armageddon, but if you tend towards tearful, definitely prepare accordingly. Pareesa let out a vaguely inhuman howl at one point in the theater, so use your best judgement there on how many tissues to bring. Because the cinematography, score, and soundtrack are so gorgeous, I really recommend seeing this in a theater if you can. However, because of its Oscar snubs, it probably won’t run in American cinemas for much longer. It also makes me sad to say that there are many places in the US that probably don’t screen this film at all due to absurd, de facto censorship of queer stories, so if you happen to live in one of these pockets, you can stream it exclusively on Hulu on February 22.
I’ve spoken before about how some pieces of art make me feel so proud to be queer, and this is definitely one of them. Where Hollywood often gets representation wrong with lazy stereotypes of hypersexuality or underdeveloped, static characterizations, All of Us Strangers depicts such tender, authentic love between Harry and Adam that I was bought in from the very beginning. Like the characters, we crave connection, and we are terrified to lose it.
I haven’t read the source material upon which the film was based, but I appreciate so much the deviations Haigh took in order to tell such a human story of old pain and new love. If you are interested in reading the 1987 novel Strangers by Taichi Yamada, pick up the English translation at your local bookshop (or learn Japanese).
🎬 The Marsh King’s Daughter (thriller, Amazon, 2023)⭐️
Literally don’t watch this movie? I watched it because I’m a sucker for anything Ben Mendelsohn and his trademark lisp are in, but even they couldn’t save this movie.
🎬 Anatomy of a Fall (thriller, Amazon 2023) ⭐️⭐️⭐️
“Your generosity conceals something dirtier and meaner!”
This Best Picture nominee is honestly worth the watch if only to see how wild French court proceedings are. I had the luxury of watching this film with my personal lawyer (Pareesa) who couldn’t stop yelling various American objections of hearsay, speculation, and relevance?! Also, Swann Arlaud is the oldest, sexiest twink I’ve ever clapped eyes on. So, enough said on the matter, I reckon.
🎬 Bob Marley: One Love (biopic, Paramount, 2024) ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
I know Bob Marley’s music like I know Fleetwood Mac’s music in that I have probably never listened to it on purpose, but I know the songs everyone else knows because I’ve been alive in California for 29 years. I went into this movie with absolutely zero expectation or information, but I left in near tears wanting to listen to reggae. (I’m lookin’ at you, Jennie!)
Some cursory perusing of Tiktok let me know that reactions of a large swath of Jamaican Bob Marley fans ranged from unimpressed to disrespected by the film produced in part by Ziggy and Rita Marley. Questions of authenticity remain at the center of critique, with major roles played by non-Jamaican actors and with more unsavory parts of Bob’s life ignored or sanitized. Many people agreed that this was a movie for the brand and business of the Marley family more than a biopic honoring Bob Marley.
Personally, I’m a sucker for looking up all the information I can about the teams of dialect coaches and historians that allow for certain representations in film. One Love is mostly in Jamaican Patois, and the team specifically chose to screen it without subtitles, which I respect and appreciate. I didn’t super appreciate the New York Times coverage of this film, however.
In Step by Step: How Kingsley Ben-Adir Became Bob Marley in last week’s New York Times, Rob Tannenbaum writes, “Bob Marley, the beloved and singular reggae luminary, was a dreadlocked Rastafarian from Jamaica who sang and played guitar. Kingsley Ben-Adir is a Brit with close-cropped hair who doesn’t sing or play guitar, and stands seven inches taller than Marley did.”
Are you for real? I’m so pissed off at the New York Times lately, so I shouldn’t be surprised that these opening lines could have been written by my middle schoolers after a lesson on appositive phrases, but I’m still really aggravated? To introduce Bob Marley as “a dreadlocked Rastafarian from Jamaica who sang and played the guitar” when the entire purpose of the biopic was to show who Bob Marley was as outside of these tired categorizations (which are true and important, but massively reductionist) seems so wild to me. Bob Marley is not the only Rastafarian musician in history, but there is a reason he is the most beloved, and it is love that seems to be missing from Tannanbaum’s initial description and subsequent feature. Drawing the laziest, most uncompelling comparison between him and Ben-Adir based on their respective heights and haircuts feels like such a freshman journalism move that it reads as almost disrespectful.
Granted, mainstream media isn’t exactly known for its track record reviewing films about Black artists or revolutionaries, and though I don’t at all think a journalist has to have a similar racial identity as the artist they are reviewing in order to provide a well-informed and well-articulated review, I really don’t think Rob Tannenbaum was the man for this job. Like I’m so sorry — of course the actor and the subject are going to look different? Acting is famously…not real? It’s bringing a character to life through specific choices in voice and movement. So, how did Ben-Adir pull it off? He’s a trained actor! Be so serious.
Anyways, if you are interested in the language and dialect coaching behind One Love, and the care and humility with which Ben-Adir learned and honored through tireless research and practice the beautiful and oft-denigrated Jamaican Patois, check out these articles instead. They describe the team of Jamaican linguists and their approach to working with Hollywood in a way that combats previous disrespectful, colonial portraits of the region. By centering Jamaican Patois and its history, the team was able to aid Ben-Adir in a vocal performance worthy of celebration— one the Marley family, who produced the film, could be proud of. (Whether the rest of Jamaica felt proud is another story.)
‘Bob Marley: One Love’ Biopic Attracts Poor Reviews From Critics Ahead Of Release
‘We will not accept fake Patois’: Jamaican linguist on dialogue in Bob Marley biopic
Kingsley Ben-Adir on why he's choosing to not use Patois language after filming Bob Marley
Kingsley Ben-Adir On Getting To Know The Marley Family While Making “Bob Marley: One Love”
Anyways, I enjoyed the movie, though if you are a Bob Marley nerd, you may have a different perspective. I thought the acting performances and the music were lovely.
📚Beautiful World, Where Are You? by Sally Rooney (Contemporary Lit) ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
Plot: Part epistolary with heavy email correspondence between two fairly insufferable friends on the brink of 30, this novel takes place between the Irish countryside and Dublin as Eileen and Alice date men and reflect on their upper-middle class lives.
Thoughts: This is classic Rooney offering us a glimpse into smart, beautiful, young(ish) people’s relationships that is somehow compelling, funny, and sometimes-profound even if the characters aren’t. I’m a Normal People girl at heart, but that’s easy because I liked Connell and Marianne. What Sally Rooney does in Beautiful World Where Are You? is show similar portraits of intimacy with characters that I would never want to be friends with. The whole thing does sort of read like Rooney needed a vessel of all of these big thoughts about the world and feelings of millennial ennui that she has stored up. Though it could have easily been an essay, I never would have discovered Natalia Ginzburg in the epigraph if she hadn’t written the book, so for that I am grateful. Everyone I know who hates this book still finished it, and at the end of the day I think that is a testament to Rooney’s craft.
I was disturbed a bit to find myself relating to some of the more insufferable thoughts and actions of the characters (I’m lookin’ at you, Alice), but I also thought she had some funny lines like…
“This idea is so basic that when I first thought of it, I felt very brilliant, and then I wondered if I was an idiot.” (me every day)
“To be fair to myself (I always am), I think I have by now forgotten how to conduct social intercourse.” (me before parties and also dates).
This novel also made me think about the approaches to and motivations behind engagement in social and romantic life. None of the characters seem particularly passionate about their feelings for the people they are dating, but they continue to date anyways. I found myself really curious about this — especially when thinking about the relationship between Felix and Alice who sometimes seem to really not like one another? But then this exchange shifted some things in my brain:
I have been single for nearly four years because participating in twenty-something dating culture hasn’t really felt worth the effort for the most part. I have consistently preferred the company of my friends or the peace of my solitude to the superficial and generally annoying maneuvers of dating. And yet, after reading this book, I sort of admired how much these characters were trying to participate in romance despite their connections often being disappointing and confusing.
I used to think people who dated the way these characters do were just afraid to be alone, but by the end of the book, I found their awkward attempts to shed their cynicism about dating fairly sweet. There is something sort of lovely about people choosing to spend their time together however imperfectly rather than resigning themselves to comfortable isolation. I still would never attend a dinner with people like them, but I did find their faith in social life a little bit uplifting.
🧁 Ramen Noodles with Shrooms and Soy Butter by Molly Baz ⭐️⭐️⭐️
Here’s what some of my favorite people have in common: they own Molly Baz’s cookbooks. (Shout out to Alicia for getting me her new one for Christmas and thoughtfully marking so many tried and true recipes). Devon made me this Ramen Noodles with Shrooms and Soy Butter dish for dinner last week, and I think I briefly blacked out with bliss. She added lemon zest, and I highly recommend you do the same. This recipe is best enjoyed with friends you’ve had since you were 13, but I’m sure it’ll taste great no matter the company.
I had so many candle canisters left over from long-ago extinguished flames that it felt like a sin to recycle them. So, I cleaned the wax out of the jars, and I ordered this candle-making kit and added some essential oils and the whole process was pretty easy? I added coconut oil to have the candle burn better. Just melt the wax with the coconut oil in the microwave (or a double boiler on the stovetop) then pour into the canisters. The kit comes with wicks and holders, and it’s all very self-explanatory.
📱 Customizable Connections Game
I saw a TikTok of a girl making these for her friends, and I thought it was the most adorable shit I’d ever seen in my life.
📕Telling the Bees Book Club: facilitated by Josh Lora (paid subscription)
February’s Book Club Pick: Acts of Forgiveness by Maura Cheeks
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📕Banned Book Club: facilitated by Lyric Rose (free)
February’s Book Club Pick: Pride by Ibi Zoboi
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Ending Note:
This edition of the newsletter was brought to you by Uristat UTI Pain Relief Tablets and the 1977 album “Exodus” which has been on repeat this week. Reggae, as it turns out, is a fairly effective anti-biotic. 10/10 recommend both.
Shout outs to:
Pareesa and Alan for letting me do my laundry and eating pizza on their couch like the kid-home-from-college that I am
The woman with the cool rings at the boutique shop on College — you’ll never see this but you’re so fuckin’ cool
Cat Pizza Party Hosts (& Luce) — immaculate vibes
My mom who is the best matinee movie buddy
Devon for cooking me not one but two amazing pastas this week
Lucy, the cat who has finally learned to tolerate me. Big win.
Hilary and Lea for a fun night of detangling hair and eating strawberries #thisisgirlhood
Lana for surviving fever and being the love of my life
Alicia and my dad for having birthdays this week
The boy who cooked me scallops
My therapist
Turn to your poets. Lean on one another. Be safe and love hard. <3
XO,
M
Thanks for being vulnerable and sharing your experience with being alone. I'm still learning how to appreciate those moments myself. And ofc as always, phenomenal music suggestions 🤌
Out of all the blogs, I feel this is my favorite. Keeping your friends in your pocket is keeping them close to your heart. Never one sided or insecure. The love and Peace we need is in them, whether we pick up the phone or not. 💯on the Bob Marley movie, One Love. You nailed it! I enjoyed every minute and cannot wait to see it again! True inspiration for all people. Dialect was tough, but you absolutely knew what was taking place at all times. We have the actors tho thank for that. I most loved the relationship Bob and Rita had, the strong unconditional love they shared was beautiful.