Hi Besties!! 

SNOW

It’s going to snow Saturday and Sunday. Depending on the forecast model, where you live, and who your forecaster is (I hope it’s not Doug Kammerer), you’re going to die. 

Not that you asked, but I trust Janice Huff and Dave Price, both of NBC 4, with my life. Janice (it’s a parasocial first-name basis) came through for me in 2020. She was reasonable. She had a sparkle in her eye that I found comforting. She doesn’t mince words, and she doesn’t fearmonger. Dave (same deal) is cautious, tells people how to swim out of the undertow every day in the summer, and comes across as particularly honest. I’ll ball for Sam Champion, too. A customer told me once he’s as nice as everyone says he is, and I needed to hear that.

I’m sending this Friday so you can go to the store. I want to know what your snacks are. Most of us don’t need to prepare for a weeklong lockdown. (One of you is in Los Angeles and isn’t getting snow at all.) But two days — Sunday and Monday, if most of us are lucky — to be cozy at home. 

Ask yourself, what snacks did you love when you were 9 years old? Malomars? Gushers? Goldfish crackers? I thought I was fine (I am fine, I have sliced cheese, crackers, and lots of snacks) until my friend mentioned Goldfish crackers, and now I’m hoping to be cozy, at peace, and eating pizza-flavored (save your shame) Goldfish crackers for dinner this weekend. 

My standbys are Oreos (Reese’s Oreos are back on the shelves!), Goldfish crackers, Teddy Grahams (the original trinity, cinnamon, honey, and chocolate), and Cheez-its. (I cycled through these reliably in 2020, as my aunt sent me a package early in the pandemic!) I don’t think Juicy Juice is the same as it was in 1988, or I’d have that at home, too. I was lucky to grow up in a generation that was allowed to have juice. 

I’m also a big fan of soda, as you know. I would usually buy a brown liquor, but I have more Cherry Bounce than I could ever need. (I am also not drinking these days very much. I am waiting for the sun to return and the sadness to lift.) My grandpa recommended milk, whiskey, and hard candy.

Also, this is your opportunity and reminder to do laundry, wash your hair, and wash your bedding now. TODAY. (Do not drop off your laundry today. Do it today.) Charge your batteries. Charge your Kindle. Check the batteries in your smoke detector. Make sure you have enough clean underwear, pairs of socks, and medication to get through the undetermined time you need to stay home. Take out your trash today, because I know it’s full, bestie, and you’re going to fill it up again. Do your pets have supplies? Does your car have gas in it? Do you have all of the important numbers in one centralized location (your landlord, your utilities company, your supervisor, in your notes app or a printed document)? Make a plan to stop by the food bank if much of this seems unattainable for you. (And text me, because I’m going out after work!)

(Again, for New York, this probably is not that long if at all.) 

WHO MADE YOU

Who taught you to be the adult you are today?

I’m not the only one who observes.

I watched and listened to stories about the adults around me. My namesake smoked Pall Malls (that’s my girl) and bought my sister an entire book series. She would go to her sister’s house on Friday with a large pizza and a six-pack of beer. (I’m jealous when I picture them in the kitchen with their beer, cigarettes, pizza, and laughter.) We smile the same in pictures — or I think we do. 

My aunt was an avid texter and ahead of her time for voice memos. (I didn’t get it until the pandemic, and now I leave personalized podcasts. She was restrained and respectful of time.) She sent me the snacks. I wish I could ask her now about how she grew into the adult people needed — I think we would find overlap if we were able to be vulnerable and honest (unlikely). She also collected plush through her adulthood, and when I bought two small Bluey plush, I thought, well, Aunt Renee had Baby Yoda. 

I tagged along on lunch dates when I was young and sat quietly with many adults. They co-introduced me to dessert carts (life’s greatest pleasure). They cursed in grocery store parking lots, and when they apologized, I realized I had learned a bad word. (The credit for the cadence is all Hill.) They gave their kindness, their patience, their time, and their joy to younger generations (my mom included), and I had a firsthand look at a young age at what it meant to live as an adult in the world. Where you could direct your energy when it mattered, and how effortless it could look to care for someone. 

My grandparents sent many, many letters and postcards. They would send letters about their day-to-day lives in North Dakota. They went to happy hour (an hour? And everyone there is happy??) with their siblings — I found out much later that it was at a Mexican restaurant currently renowned for its happy hour, so not only was everyone happy for an hour, but they also had queso. They volunteered in Medora, and they traveled the world. They were never embarrassed to have fun or to like something, which I am still learning. 

I am still watching. I have a friend who is always so kind to me, even when I am sure the frown on my face says I do not deserve it. He is so good at timing — he never lingers. How can I learn to do that, I wonder every week. This week, I made a mistake, and my boss said, “Don’t beat yourself up.” We would learn, move on, and not do it again. I thought, This is a person who understands RSD. This is a person who knows that when I’ve made a mistake, I never make it again. (I think. I hope.) 

It’s very similar to how I lead professionally. I instinctively remember all the people who were my supervisors in the past, and how they made me feel day to day. My work isn’t the end of the world (it’s important, but I’m not developing cancer-fighting drugs). I can apply the same patience and grace in my communication. I can see my workload and offer to help. Or, I can reflect on my own lack of self-respect and determine that others will not fall in the same trap. They can go home. I will handle it. We can move forward every day toward the people we want to be. Some days that’s really hard, and some days it blossoms naturally.

DRIBS AND DRABS

This month’s “surely my Spotify Wrapped is incorrect, because I listened to that song for eight hours straight” is Hum’s “Shapeshifter.” Every few weeks, I send a YouTube video to the group chat for my nieces and nephew, a “here’s a cool band you should know.” This is not the song I would pick for Hum, but they will get one eventually, because Hum is very cool.

Speaking of Urbana-Champaign, we're thisclose to an American Football album announcement.

The Birdland Caravan, which is when the Orioles drive their players around the state in the winter to give you some hope that summer, heat rash, sunburn, giant Coca-Colas in plastic cups, and singing John Denver in a crowd might really return, brought Pete Alonso to The Senator, a historic movie theater, and the videos are very sweet. If this man is as on board as the Mets fans promise me he is — if he doesn’t run his mouth like Aubrey Huff — he’ll have my support.

And not that anyone asked, but I think we’re thisclose to seeing Enrique Bradfield, Jr. move up to the majors. I’d like to believe I have a gift. I think he’s extremely talented. (I’m buying a jersey when the day comes.) 

If the sun hits my forehead at the right angle (the, not a) when I’m in Bradenton, I could very well buy an O’Hearn jersey. The front office in Baltimore was foolish to dump their only all-star (and the Brewers should have held on to their all-star pitcher, but he’s in Queens now, so congratulations to Mets fans), but I’m a fan of Pittsburgh without reservation. I’m not linking any of that. Just trust me! Sometimes I’m right.

I have not stopped watching Heated Rivalry. I bought a shirt and I’m going to buy a crop top next, because a bit that is frankly too embarrassing to commit to print. I’ll wear it in Florida and let a man flirt with me.

Anyway, there aren’t enough memes. I only have two images on my desktop. This one, which I was finally able to use today:

And this one, which I saved as some sort of hopeful gesture to the future. 

When I say Paradiso is currently renowned, I mean that I met two volunteers in Bismarck before I drove out to Medora who told me that they love happy hour there, and my mom gently said that was the happy hour of my childhood letters. God, I am so proud that the following generations are partaking in the same scene. I was invited to go sometime!

If you ARE in an area that might lose power — and I don’t think anyone is — I read that you should set up your camping supplies (provided you are the kind of person to have some) in the living room before you lose power. I am not planning to lose power — my plan is to get into bed under every blanket I own. One of you works in health care and will have to work during this, and I am just so, so sorry.

Always your friend,

Katherine