Monday Memos // 52

This week is brought to you by overwhelming loneliness, too much sugar, really nice weather, and general life confusion.

Listening:

"Diamonds" by Kevin Krauter.

"Dancing In the Dark" by Bruce Springsteen. Prepare yourself for Bruce's outfit and dance moves, wow!

"Stoner Hill" by Brian Blade + The Fellowship Band. Make sure to listen to Brian speak at the end, his happiness—"there's not thoughts of other things in these times..."

"Dirty John" a podcast from the LA Times. I've been blowing through podcasts as I walk for hours through Brooklyn. I just started this one—A true story about seduction, deception, forgiveness, denial, and ultimately, survival. Reported and hosted by Christopher Goffard.—I'm about halfway done and it is disturbing and fascinating. If you like S-Town or Serial, this is similar.

Reading:

"Jitterbug Perfume" by Tom Robbins.

I went in search for "Still Life with Woodpecker," but this was the Tom Robbins selection in two different book stores, so I took it as a sign and bought a nice worn copy. Widely considered a cult classic and one of the "Best books of the 20th century," I'm excited to dig in. Robbins knows his way around wild ideas and words. 

Trivia: His dog's name is Blini Tomato Titanium and his sons have the names Rip, Kirk, and Fleetwood. I'm calling him when I get another pet or have a baby.

Some good 1984 graphic design.

Craving:

I can't stop going to Cinnamon Girl. I've tried the monster cookie, breakfast cookie, apple bran muffin, double chocolate chunk cookie, and Brooklyn blackout cake. I should start avoiding that side of the street when I walk home.

I've also become a big fan of Silver Rice, a simple and delicious Japanese eatery. I've had their special rice cup a couple of times (flaxseed rice, pumpkin, kale, salmon, cucumbers, avocado, spicy mayo) and tried a couple different soups (a kabocha squash and a miso broccoli rabe and quinoa).

All the rice and soup and hearty desserts have been soothing on my stomach through a short bout of food poisoning and a constant bombardment of anxiety. 

Wearing:

Pants! It's been so long since I've reached for pants on a daily basis. I keep going back to the same pair of blue jeans and black slacks with a tiny quotation mark print. Back and forth and a rotation of black tee-shirts.

I've also been wearing socks on a daily basis (Florida summer made me really neglect my sock drawer). Stripes, black, and artichoke print have been the rotation.

Watching:

"Maggie's Plan."

This movie was just what I needed last Friday night. Maggie (played by Greta Gerwig) reminded me of myself, for better or worse. Some New York shenanigans and life confusion and hilarity. The cast too—Ethan Hawke, Bill Hader, Maya Rudolph, Julianne Moore... a wonderful story of comedy, chaos, and love. 

Maggie Harden, a director of business for the art and design students at a university, decides she wants to have a child and enlists a former college acquaintance, Guy Childers, a former maths student to donate his sperm. Guy is a "pickle entrepreneur."

Travis Fimmel and Greta Gerwig and the pickles. (photo by Jon Pack)

Treasuring:

The telephone and faraway friends. 

This week I watched "This Is Us" while on the phone with a friend. We synced up the episode and pressed play at the exact same moment. It was wonderful to keep up a weekly tradition—to awww and laugh and cry together, even hundreds of miles apart.

Talking to my mom on a particularly rough day and then on a much better day was great. I loved hearing my dad's uproarious laughter in the background. Plus, I heard my boy Oliver meowing and I was tempted to FaceTime with him.

There have been moments this last week when my feet ache from the miles of walking, but the air felt so good, and I'm teetering between being okay or not—ring ring!—a voice of familiarity and comfort! Thank you! I get to step out of my head and talk about life and feel connected to great things. 

Now if only I could find a place like Carrie's and have her writing gig and pick the carpenter. (image via HBO)

Monday Memos // 51

Listening:

"Forgiven/Forgotten" by Angel Olsen. "If there's one thing I fear / It's knowing you're around / So close but not here / So close / Oh, but not with me here / So close / But not with me here"

"New York" by St. Vincent. This video is good.

"Milestones" by Buddy Rich. I love this song in all forms and iterations. Birdland in it's entirety is really groovy too.

Reading:

This week brought to you by The New Yorker's humor section—

The Dark Truth Behind the Making of Pumpkin-Spice Lattes

Lesser-Known Roomba Error Codes

Your Content Will Resume Shortly

 By Farley Katz.

As a bonus: For the Rock Star, Love Has Finally Landed. I'll admit, I'm a sucker for reading the Weddings section of the New York Times. It's like my inner romantic is constantly trying to melt the nonchalant/fear of rejection/un-celebratory parts of me. Anyways, in a long and winding path, I found my way to this wedding from a year ago (I went to get lunch at Eleven36 and was looking though their Instagram page and saw this photo and went to the source and it had to do with this sweet and magical love story with a record store and a musician and long distance and triumph).

“Matthew floats just above the earth,” said their officiant, Ms. de Wilde. “I think that he needs someone like Emily to help bring him down to earth and make the ground less punishing.”

The couple recited personalized vows before approximately 130 friends and family. “You already think the world’s in color, and then it’s really in color,” the groom said of his bride. “You already think you’re a loving person, and then you feel like your heart doubles in size.”  (image by Lauren Lancaster for The New York Times

Craving:

There are rare times in life when I do not want chocolate cake. So as a celebratory treat for my successful move to New York on Saturday, I got myself a slice of Brooklyn blackout cake from Cinnamon Girl. It was light and rich, cakey and puddingy, I could hardly savor it—I completely devoured it. 

"Blackout cake, sometimes called Brooklyn Blackout cake, is an American chocolate cake filled with chocolate pudding and chocolate cake crumbs, and frosted with chocolate icing. It was invented during World War II by a Brooklyn-based bakery chain named Ebinger's, in recognition of the mandatory blackouts to protect the Brooklyn Navy Yard."

I think I could make it my quest to find all the best blackout cakes in the city.

On my list is Ovenly's version—a favorite for the Village Voice (image via Adam Robb for the villiagevoice)

Wearing:

It's like I have a uniform. Stripes. Denim. Slip-on, solid-colored shoes. 

I'm ready for fall gear, though the heat seems to have followed me up north thus far. Lusting for layers. Scarves. Jackets. Boots. 

Ready for primping. (image by leah goren)

Watching:

Keeping up with: "This Is Us" (crying and bonding); "Project Runway" (so much drama and twists this season!); "The Deuce" (entertained but not entirely sold).

Recently viewed: "The Meyerowitz Stories" (typical Baumbach—lots of laughing and cringing)

Want to see: "Blade Runner 2049" (positive recommendations and Gosling); "Mindhunter" (I like Jonathan Groff and David Fincher).

Treasuring:

My cat. Considering the variety of sensitivities he has (loud noises terrify him, knocks on the door terrify him, plastic bags terrify him, the presence of most large men terrify him), I was hoping for an okay experience driving 12-13 hours straight with his company. Turns out he's a phenomenal travel partner. He was patient and quiet and easy—he never made a single terrible noise! We chatted, I sang to him, I cried to him, I felt so grateful for his companionship. 

His first days versus these days. 

A majority of my life was spent wishing I lived elsewhere. I made it out of my hometown for a few years, then found myself back—a stay that was longer than anticipated. Yet, this last stint was one of the best. I made some of the most amazing relationships. I felt joy and excitement and satisfaction. I discovered so many things about the place and myself. What a relief (and some serious heartache) to leave on such terms. 

My feet in Florida.