Hello out there 👋
Are you okay?
I'm okay.
I've adopted a strict writing schedule, 8am-12pm, that I'm mostly sticking to. It helps me feel like a person. My mom has endorsed getting dressed every morning, but that seems crazy. I've got two pairs of sweatpants in rotation, and I did allow myself to buy a new sweatshirt, a replacement for an old fave I wore through the entire Trump administration, pretty much, that had acquired a big coffee stain somewhere along the way. This one is pre-coffee-stained! So I guess I'm ready for the apocalypse.
I've been eating a lot of turkey. For Thanksgiving, we ordered a Cantonese-style crispy turkey from Sam Woo Barbecue, which had crispy skin, yes, but was really just a turkey. A perfectly good turkey. We enjoyed it unceremoniously on the day, with sticky rice and gravy, and since then have had turkey "carnitas" tacos (delish), turkey stir fry, turkey risotto (made with leftover stock from the carnitas! also delish), and three or four rounds of turkey sandwiches. We're nowhere near done with that turkey. Honestly, it's been a relief not to have to think much about meal planning.
Maybe for Christmas we'll get a whole pig!
I'm kidding. We could never fit it in our fridge.
On Saturday, R and I completed the last walk in the Secret Stairs book, the "monster," as Fleming describes it, a gorgeously graffitied hike down crumbling steps into (surprise!) an old Nazi enclave built in the 1930s. And then up up up again. 512 steps up, and one hundo post-apocalyptic vibes. There's something very cathartic about seeing taggers—and nature—take over.
*****
This month onscreen: I May Destroy You. Ted Lasso. The Crown. Dick Johnson Is Dead, which led me to Thank You and Good Night. I found those last two troubling ethically, but they stuck with me.
This month in print: Sayaka Murata's Convenience Store Woman is a weird, great little book about a woman whose sole identity is shaped by her rote, dead-end job. It almost made me yearn for that kind of clarity. Or, certainty. I don't have much of that at the moment. WHO DOES?
xoxo,
Laramie
p.s. Write back if you feel like it. Tell me what to watch.Â
I'm okay.
I've adopted a strict writing schedule, 8am-12pm, that I'm mostly sticking to. It helps me feel like a person. My mom has endorsed getting dressed every morning, but that seems crazy. I've got two pairs of sweatpants in rotation, and I did allow myself to buy a new sweatshirt, a replacement for an old fave I wore through the entire Trump administration, pretty much, that had acquired a big coffee stain somewhere along the way. This one is pre-coffee-stained! So I guess I'm ready for the apocalypse.
I've been eating a lot of turkey. For Thanksgiving, we ordered a Cantonese-style crispy turkey from Sam Woo Barbecue, which had crispy skin, yes, but was really just a turkey. A perfectly good turkey. We enjoyed it unceremoniously on the day, with sticky rice and gravy, and since then have had turkey "carnitas" tacos (delish), turkey stir fry, turkey risotto (made with leftover stock from the carnitas! also delish), and three or four rounds of turkey sandwiches. We're nowhere near done with that turkey. Honestly, it's been a relief not to have to think much about meal planning.
Maybe for Christmas we'll get a whole pig!
I'm kidding. We could never fit it in our fridge.
On Saturday, R and I completed the last walk in the Secret Stairs book, the "monster," as Fleming describes it, a gorgeously graffitied hike down crumbling steps into (surprise!) an old Nazi enclave built in the 1930s. And then up up up again. 512 steps up, and one hundo post-apocalyptic vibes. There's something very cathartic about seeing taggers—and nature—take over.
*****
This month onscreen: I May Destroy You. Ted Lasso. The Crown. Dick Johnson Is Dead, which led me to Thank You and Good Night. I found those last two troubling ethically, but they stuck with me.
This month in print: Sayaka Murata's Convenience Store Woman is a weird, great little book about a woman whose sole identity is shaped by her rote, dead-end job. It almost made me yearn for that kind of clarity. Or, certainty. I don't have much of that at the moment. WHO DOES?
xoxo,
Laramie
p.s. Write back if you feel like it. Tell me what to watch.Â
Â
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