I shower because it’s hot and I sweat, and I’ve gotten into the habit of making my bed. Ever since I installed the AC in my bedroom, I no longer sleep with a flimsy top sheet that I don’t know how to make neat. I brought my duvet and duvet cover back and do a fold over so it looks like a made bed. And I do not want to get under my duvet with sweaty subway skin that’s dried multiple times over. So.

After my shower, I wash the dishes, I tidy up. I do these things because it forces me upright so that my body can digest my dinner. So that I can go to bed knowing, hey. Do NOT have acid reflux. You digested your food some. You moved around. I know because I was these. So I am not as anxious about it. We are not anxious.

Then I set down my bike backpack, inside it, my Kryptonite bike lock, water bottle full of tap water, swim cap, swim goggles, towel, sunscreen, my adult lap swim card. Next to the backpack, my fun T-shirt of the day, black shorts, swimsuit, helmet and hat.

Then I also lay out my clothes for work tomorrow. This is an ordeal. I have to consider the weather and use the existing knowledge I have about how my building’s HVAC system decides to make it frigid when it’s sweltering outside.

Then I have to go to the kitchen and stack my prepared breakfast and lunch tupperware together so I know I can grab them quickly.

Then I pack my work backpack. Work laptop, sometimes personal laptop, novel, planner, work notebook, pencil case, Spanish notebook (sometimes), sketchbook, water bottle.

I tell myself I should stretch, I should foam roll, I should do some mobility routines, I should journal, I should meditate. But usually, I don’t do any of those things. I don’t yet have a practice for them. I feel like I should because I know it’s good for me, it will help me, and help me achieve my goals. But I have not yet made time for it. I trust myself though, so I try to be chill about this. This takes up some time.

Finally, I take my medication, and scroll my phone until I’m sooooo tired and go to sleep, good night!

The empty lot on the sidewalk that used to have towering stalks of sunflowers also got filled with concrete. Darn.

However, my neighbors gave me a key to the backyard which they’ve set up with some outdoor furniture. I’m hoping to grow some basil. Maybe I will see and meet other, different kind of bugs.

I will say, I did get what I wanted from media about the “other” where we don’t have such an antagonistic relationship with it. The astrophages weren’t made out to be these malicious entities (but they were completely black and opaque and the predator taumoeba is white and sparkly… hm) but a neutral life form that’s using energy in a way that’s different from what we’ve seen. Unfortunately, the anthropomorphizing of Rocky really took me out of it. It reminded me of Mickey 17 and how flat the aliens fell there too. Why do the producers of these movies want me to cry so much for these CGI creatures?

Reading the reviews on Letterbox also shocked me because the one review that called out the America in this movie got dogpiled by, I guess, illiterate “why can’t we just enjoy things?” crowd. But actually though, why is this guy, Andy Weir, addicted to one man being the sole saviour of an entire planet? With the help of, let’s see, a fucking alien, and not the minds of 100000 other scientists in the world? Because they are there simply there to replicate this theories and confirm them?

I think, once again, ultimately, I’m not going to get what I am looking for in an American movie.

I liked the brief moment when we got to see Rocky’s ship. I enjoyed the ending. I thought it was cute. Both in that the friendship between Grace and Rocky was endearing, and in a diminutive way, wow we really have to buy in that this entire story, premise, and conclusion is entirely apolitical.

Fragrances I’m enjoying:

• Odeur 53 by Comme des Garcons (banger, the best)
• Odeur 71 by Comme des Garcons (sometimes can feel a bit too sweet, but comforting)
• Blackpepper and Black by Comme des Garcons (both of these I love primarily for their black pepper opening note)
• Portuguese Man o War by Zoologist (the opening note kicks you in the throat and it’s so addicting)

Perfumes I thought I was obsessed with but now am sick of:

• L’Eau D’Issey by Issey Miyaki (I really like the white floral, but it’s kind of one note and stays light and airy, now feels like the girliest thing in the world)
• Black Saffron by Byredo (smells way too sweet now)
• Another 13 by Le Labo (a great intro to Iso E Super but I’d want something with way less of it)

Forever faves:

• Ombre Leather by Tom Ford
• Tom’s natural deodorant in Natural Woods

Wish they lasted longer / transformed differently:

• Steamed Rainbow by DS and Durga
• Morel Map by Clue
• Amazingreen by Comme des Garcons (this smells sooooo good, but 1) I don’t think green scents develop well with my body chemistry and 2) they also just don’t tend to last long)

Flops:

• Concrete by Comme des Garcons (truly like gag, hyuck bwah ugh what the fuck. it is NOT wet concrete like I had hoped, not even a little)
• Seahorse by Zoologist (actually liked the salty aquatic in here for a while but just weighed too heavy and I got sick of it)
• #2 by Comme des Garcons (this is just incense )

Clearly I’m enjoying a lot of CDG but I think I might be done with what they have to offer so far. I wanna look at Zoologist more, especially Snowy Owl and Penguin because of the promise of “icy” smell. But I hate anything vanilla or gourmand. I wanna try out some of the heavy hitters while it’s still cold and not so sweaty feeling.

I was really, really touched and endeared. There was an aching (for something, romance, attention) from Harry Melling’s character Colin that was so, like, real feeling. When you have nothing, and have nothing to lose, and so you can lose yourself entirely to a person, under whose gaze you can feel like have something, finally, maybe even be somebody.

Alexander Skarsgard was obviously amazing at being hot as Ray. Another thing I love, seeing full frontal on a big screen. Though they didn’t have it in its entirety, there were great shots of dick. Whatever ache or yearning that Colin had, I felt something of equal magnitude coming from Ray, but it was sharper and more of a wall. I don’t know, I really get that feeling though. Of knowing exactly what it is you want, and someone is there able to - even willing to - fulfill all of it for you. I get that the things that Ray asks Colin to do come off as wild, rude, mean, denigrating, humiliating and however under negotiated, there’s a beat of comedy and absurdity in these scenes. Which is why the most shocking and chilling part was when Colin repeatedly kept trying to get into Ray’s bed against his wishes.

The next day, their domestic, vanilla, chill date together was so sweet, it was almost sickening, and then it really was sickening. There’s a scene toward the very end, after they kiss for the first time, the way Ray’s face crumples, and then Colin’s reaction to his face, and some moment of clarity and realization hits them both. The inevitable reality that they are not for one another, that this relationship will categorically end.

What struck me the most is that throughout the movie, though Ray is presented as the one more experienced in the D/s scene, he is also clearly an immature dom. When we see other members of the biker gang having distinctly varying levels of D/s relationships and negotiations, when no one is surprised that Ray is borrowing another sub, when Ray seems estranged even from the ones he apparently spends most of his social time with. It really was heartbreaking. Is there someone out there who is able, willing, really really wanting, even, to be a 24/7 sub for him, with no romantic strings attached? Because after that date, it’s definitely not Colin.

I appreciated the uplifting tone in the end. Colin, despite the shock of being totally ghosted by someone he was physically and emotionally entrenched with for months, was able to better articulate his desires and boundaries. A lot of first relationships are like this, I’m sure. (Not the, uh, everything, but the fact that despite it not working out, you ultimately learn a lot about yourself and also the world.)

Other things I liked: The comedic beats with Colin’s parents, his mom especially being so openly caring and loving toward her son even if it comes across as suffocating or rude. She loves her family. Seeing parts of the biker gang’s lifestyle and the way they’re organized for fun, merrymaking, sex. The spectrum of various ages and abilities in the gang. Of course, there will always be a place in my heart for scenes with bikes and cars going really fast on empty streets, late at night.

Ultimately, I love a romcom. There was no romance in the romantic sense though, as in romantic relationship. There was no romance between Ray and Colin. But the way in which their relationship bloomed and opened up Colin’s world from what it was previously was romantic. Colin articulating what he likes and wants was romantic.

After the movie, because I was in the area, I hit up Rasmi for dinner and ended up dining with him and Claire. Rasmi told us that pillion is a term used to describe the second seat on a ride, like a motorcycle or scooter. Riding pillion! That is so romantic <3

Been enjoying the YouTube channel Institute of Human Anatomy a ton lately. Makes me want to look at all kinds of cadavers.

I thought a lot of it was so beautiful. The striking yellow colors of those trees when Mansu visits Beom-mo’s house for the first time. The comedic beats. Honestly the way the mom and dad had such different approaches to helping keep the family afloat was too real too, like. Got our ass.

I do struggle with movies like these with the Parasite Effect. I dunno, it feels like everything that it’s saying has been said already, and even when done really well, it fell kind of flat. I felt like there was such an opportunity to go absurd with it, especially with the way Mansu contorted the second guy, Sijo’s body. Like, keep escalating it until the whole situation spirals inside out. Or for Mansu to be sought after by another Paper Guy who had the same idea as him.

Once I realized that the director was the same as the one who made The Handmaiden, it made a bit more sense. This guy sucks at endings.

Anyway, here’s a list of books I read last year.

• Acceptance by Jeff VanderMeer
• Rejection by Tony Tulathimutte
• Solaris by Stanislaw Lem
• The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde
• Martyr! by Kaveh Akbar
• The Scum Villain’s Self-Saving System Vol 1 by mxtx
• All Fours by Miranda July
• The Bronx is Burning by Johnathan Mahler
• The Scum Villain’s Self-Saving System Vol 2 by mxtx
• The Scum Villain’s Self-Saving System Vol 3 by mxtx
• Case File Compendium Vol 1 by meatbun
• Case File Compendium Vol 2 by meatbun
• Monstrilio by Gerardo Sámano Córdova
• Yellowface by R.F. Kuang

I started reading Solaris by Stanislaw Lem in early 2025. I heard about this writer because I had read The Southern Reach Trilogy by Jeff VanderMeer and I was looking for similar books. A lot of people mentioned Solaris but often mentioned that it was a departure from Lem’s other works. So I read The Futurological Congress (the third book in a trilogy… why did I do that) in order to prepare myself for this writer’s style. I hated it. But because Solaris was supposed to be different, I decided to give it a chance.

I actually dug through my old notes and found a review I wrote in April 3, 2025:

Solaris by Stanislaw Lem

A novel about a man named Kelvin who goes to the planet Solaris. There he inexplicably meets his dead wife.

Loved this book. It was pretty hard to get through a lot of the technical descriptions of the ship and even some of the academic texts in this world of the planet Solaris. But since we’re in the mind of a scientist, it makes sense.

I felt for them, Kelvin and Rheya, both of them living together in amorous familiarity despite being on a station millions of miles away from Earth on a planet with two suns.

So fascinating all the explanations for what Rheya and the other two phantoms created by the planet were made of. The science of the mimoids was cool. As I read, I kept wanting to spend more time exploring the planet.

A lot of the dialogues (what felt like monologues sometimes) were like sooooo trueee. Really touching ending scene.

Though I had hangups about how boring and a slog some of the technical exposition was, I mostly enjoyed the book, especially toward the end. The experience of reading it was challenging, but ultimately rewarding.

That was not the case with my experience of watching Solaris by Andrei Tarkovsky. When I realized this book had multiple movie adaptations, what first came to mind was, how in the hell were they going to show how complex, overwhelmingly abstract and, just like, grand the movements of the Ocean were?

Here’s what I will say: the moments on earth, the flowing plants in the water, the nature, and even the almost painstaking, lingering shots of traffic were beautiful. I like those choices made by Tarkovsky (other than Solaris, I only watched The Mirror and I liked the same kinds of scenes there as well). I also liked some of the limited shots we get of Solaris itself. (How did they show those waves? Soap and water? Computer graphics?)

As I was watching it, naturally, I couldn’t help but compare it to the book. It begins with a scene that where our hero Kelvin is given far more information about Solaris prior to his journey there. In the book, these details about what a pilot observed about a fallen cosmonaut and his baby comes more than halfway through.

I mean, the spectacle of how the plot unfolds was cool, fine. It’s a movie. The actress who plays Hari (Rheya in the book), Natalya Bondarchuk was gorgeous. I thought she did a great job. I liked that Kelvin was sweating pretty much the whole time, and I appreciated this for two reasons, 1) I like when men on screen in stressful situations are sweaty and 2) this is not something that easily comes up first person narration of the character who is experiencing the ongoing anxiety of this traumatic event.

Also there were a ton of scenes with Kelvin’s family that was nearly absent in the book. And that scene with Kelvin’s mother, I’m like, bro, these directors and their mothers. Enough! I’m actually quite fond of what Lem said about this: “And what was absolutely terrible was that Tarkovsky introduced Kelvin’s parents and even some aunt into the movie. But most of all, his mother. […] The mother is Russia, the Motherland, Earth. That just enraged me.”

I think it’s really funny that Tarkovsky was so excited to adapt this novel and met Lem at some hotel in Moscow to discuss, and they both basically argued for, like, weeks and parted ways being absolutely annoyed at one another. Like, that is funny!!!

An aside about the ‘other’ in fiction

I think ultimately, ultimately, what I have been seeking for the past two years, after having watched Annihilation by Alex Garland that one random night at The IFC, after which I came home spooked as fuck, kind of scared, but also excited, was an answer to a question I had, a question I had a long time ago, when I was a kid, when I was first learning about the universe and how big it was, and how we defined life, living things, and how we sought life elsewhere in the vast universe. Which was, how could we possibly know?

The way I saw it, us defining what constitutes living things was farcical because, bro, we are the living things. For example, one of the characteristics of living things is that they respond to external stimulus. This is certainly true for us. But can we really apply this to life that has no business looking or evolving anything like ours on Earth? Solaris responds to blasts of radiation from the station. It responds to a cosmonaut drowning in it by creating the largest baby ever in the image of the cosmonaut’s son. Okay, sure it’s alive. But we lose so much by attributing a meaning behind those reactions. I think about this the same way I think about animals and insects. Cats are not being sassy for swiping at you, mosquitos are not evil for wanting to eat your blood and live. In the movie, Solaris supposedly creates these phantoms based off the individuals’ sins. That’s poppycock!!! I get that we are in the mind of an unreliable narrator with a subjective point of view. I get that the purpose of the movie, books, TV, the purpose of art is to tell a story and compel some emotional movement in the beholder. But positioning the intentions of a sentient ocean by saying it scans your subconscious and produces a simulacrum of your deepest sins to torture you feels so… flat and unimaginative. Maybe the visceral and kind of unnerving acting by Bondarchuk emphasized this for me in the movie, how painful this existence was for her. But in the book, there were so many more mundane, sometimes sweet moments of just, honestly, kind of hanging out.

There’s a quote by Dr. Snow (Snaut) that hit the nail on the head:

“It’s almost as if you’re purposely refusing to understand,” he groaned. “I’ve been talking about Solaris the whole time, solely about Solaris. If the truth is hard to swallow, it’s not my fault. Anyhow, after what you’ve already been through, you ought to be able to hear me out! We take off into the cosmos, ready for anything: for solitude, for hardship, for exhaustion, death. Modesty forbids us to say so, but there are times when we think pretty well of ourselves. And yet, if we examine it more closely, our enthusiasm turns out to be all sham. We don’t want to conquer the cosmos, we simply want to extend the boundaries of Earth to the frontiers of the cosmos. For us, such and such a planet is as arid as the Sahara, another as frozen as the North Pole, yet another as lush as the Amazon basin. We are humanitarian and chivalrous; we don’t want to enslave other races, we simply want to bequeath them our values and take over their heritage in exchange. We think of ourselves as the Knights of the Holy Contact. This is another lie. We are only seeking Man. We have no need of other worlds. We need mirrors. We don’t know what to do with other worlds. A single world, our own, suffices us; but we can’t accept it for what it is. We are searching for an ideal image of our own world: we go in quest of a planet, of a civilization superior to our own but developed on the basis of a prototype of our primeval past. At the same time, there is something inside us which we don’t like to face up to, from which we try to protect ourselves, but which nevertheless remains, since we don’t leave Earth in a state of primal innocence. We arrive here as we are in reality, and when the page is turned and that reality is revealed to us – that part of our reality which we would prefer to pass over in silence – then we don’t like it any more.”

Can you really divorce the technology, tooling, scientific frameworks of study used to explore from Earthly baggage to really, really understand something completely different?

I take the same issue with the core conflicts in There Is No Antimemetics Division by qntm and Pluribus. Again, I KNOW IT IS A STORY. A human story, to tell us, the human who is watching or reading the respective work. But I thought it was so boring to have these unknown memetic agents and phenomena be reduced to an ally, a pet basically (Sunshine) or antagonist (U-3125). I felt like Pluribus did a better job of exploring the hivemind virus because it was granted the luxury of 9 one hour long episodes. They’re not trying to be evil, it’s simply their biological imperative. They do eat people but not out of malicious intent, but because it’s practical. But then the show makes this case for humanity by saying, “Just pick a fucking apple instead of eating dead humans.” I still struggle to see the hivemind as antagonistic, mostly because we don’t know that much about it so far.

I feel a little crazy for saying I don’t want a story where the other is antagonistic. (But then, I think often of Arrival and how, if I hadn’t watched it immediately after watching The Shape of Water, maybe I would have been slightly less horny and able to appreciate it better for the premise it presented. Maybe I will rewatch it, but more likely, I’ll watch The Shape of Water again.)

Anyway

I’m starting to grasp at straws here but I really want to express what I mean. At some point, I think, the medium to explore the unknowable cannot be a film, literature, a story, or academic research, but maybe a blood curdling scream, or a dream that is entirely tactile. But to the extent that we do want to have a shared experience, I think the movie was fine.

I left the theatre feeling spooked mostly because of that haunting final scene and the accompanying music, but primarily frustrated because of everything else. In the movie, after Hari is killed for good, Kelvin stays on Solaris on one of its islands with a perfect replica of his house back home, with a version of his father and dog. He drops to his knees and embraces his father as the camera pans out providing an isolated ariel view of this literal island he is on, on a planet so far away from Earth.

Once again, Lem’s criticism of this just makes me laugh:

My Kelvin decides to stay on the planet without any hope whatsoever while Tarkovsky created an image where some kind of an island appears, and on that island a hut. And when I hear about the hut and the island I’m beside myself with irritation… This is just some emotional sauce into which Tarkovsky has submerged his heroes, not to mention that he has completely amputated the scientific landscape and in its place introduced so much of the weirdness I cannot stand.

Now I want to actually include some of the final passages from the book. Kelvin, again after Rheya’s final death, takes a helicopter out and steps onto one of these impossibly undulating structures called mimoids:

With the flitter a few paces behind me, I sat on the rough, fissured beach. A heavy black wave broke over the edge of the bank and spread out, not black, but a dirty green. The ebbing wave left viscous streamlets behind, which flowed back quivering towards the ocean. I went closer, and when the next wave came I held out my hand.

…

[T]he wave hesitated, recoiled, then enveloped my hand without touching it, so that a thin covering of ‘air’ separated my glove inside a cavity which had been fluid a moment previously, and now had a fleshy consistency. I raised my hand slowly, and the wave, or rather an outcrop of the wave, rose at the same time, enfolding my hand in a translucent cyst with greenish reflections. I stood up, so as to raise my hand still higher, and the gelatinous substance stretched like a rope, but did not break. The main body of the wave remained motionless on the shore, surrounding my feet without touching them, like some strange beast patiently waiting for the experiment to finish. A flower had grown out of the ocean, and its calyx was moulded to my fingers. I stepped back. The stem trembled, stirred uncertainly and fell back into the wave, which gathered it and receded.

…

In all their movements, taken together or singly, each of these branches reaching out of the ocean seemed to display a kind of cautious but not feral alertness, a curiosity avid for quick apprehension of a new, unexpected form, and regretful at having to retreat, unable to exceed the limits set by a mysterious law. The contrast was inexpressible between that lively curiosity and the shimmering immensity of the ocean that stretched away out of sight … I had never felt its gigantic presence so strongly, or its powerful changeless silence, or the secret forces that gave the waves their regular rise and fall. I sat unseeing, and sank into a universe of inertia, glided down an irresistible slope and identified myself with the dumb, fluid colossus; it was as if I had forgiven it everything without the slightest effort of word or thought.

…

That liquid giant had been the death of hundreds of men. The entire human race had tried in vain to establish even the most tenuous link with it, and it bore my weight without noticing me any more than it would notice a speck of dust. I did not believe that it could respond to the tragedy of two human beings. Yet its activities did have a purpose… True, I was not absolutely certain, but leaving would mean giving up a chance, perhaps an infinitesimal one, perhaps only imaginary… Must I go on living here then, among the objects we both had touched, in the air she had breathed? In the name of what? In the hope of her return? I hoped for nothing. And yet I lived in expectation. Since she had gone, that was all that remained. I did not know what achievements, what mockery, even what tortures still awaited me. I knew nothing, and I persisted in the faith that the time of cruel miracles was not past.

Even now reading that final passage makes me really emotional! The interaction between Kelvin and the wave, the acknowledgement, that’s what I love to see. The resignation that there is no sense in trying to know this being. The painful letting go of any hope of reviving of any of his comfortable life on the station with Rheya. Yet, still there is something, he doesn’t know what, but it’s enough for him to determine it is worth it to stay. To me, this is beautiful.

(Now, I will have to figure out what order to read/watch Roadside Picnic/The Stalker. God.)

Anyway, a few weeks ago while I was checking out at the grocery store, this old man complimented my baggu with an elephant pattern on it. He said, “I feel bad for them, y’know. Sorry, I like them a lot so I love your bag. It says something, shows that you care.”

I said, “Aw, that is so sweet!”

He goes, “Sorry, anyway, I love megafauna.”

I, by the way, blazed and randomly not wanting to be exclusionary, said, “Yeah, y’know all kinds of life, microfauna too.” Because I was thinking about bugs and how recent my appreciation for them was. The old man said, “Well, I don’t know if I care that much about bacteria, haha.” And then I laughed and walked out. Bro, of course microfauna are, like, bacteria and protozoa. Maybe that makes bugs midfauna.

I wonder if it’s because I’ve already been spoiled by The Southern Reach trilogy by Jeff Vandermeer and, honestly, even Solaris by Stanislaw Lem. Both of these works came way before the former two works above though. Brain full, brain marinating. I will speak on this again >:(

Immediately, I liked all the main characters and how they were presented: Dude, Walter, and Donny, a trio of random dudes in a bowling league. I don’t think we ever get to learn how they became friends or joined a team together, but they had great chemistry. I will say, whenever John Goodman’s character, Walter, is on screen, he kind, like… kills it every time. One of the lines that made me laugh so much was “Shut the fuck up, Donny! V.I. Lenin. Vladimir Ilyich Ulyanov!” Also, I learned that The Beatles had a song called “I am a Walrus.”

Julianne Moore as Maude kind of had me rolling my eyes at the rich feminist artist archetype but I was loving her in the end. Bunny was funny, raising all that hell.

For some reason, I thought this movie would end with the bowling league somehow having a final showdown with another antagonistic character who would put the prize money up for however much the Dude owed. But it had a much more meandering, strangely touching, and ultimately satisfying ending. Honestly, the entirety of this movie is just one single The Regular Show episode. But it’s instead a 2 hour movie with line after line of comedy and amazing, committed acting. Yay!

Walking to my apartment, I looked up, as I’m drawn to do, especially when it’s a clear, crisp night sky above. I saw Jupiter, so bright and steady in its luminosity next to Orion. While thinking, “Dang, lemme get a better look at this,” I saw a speedy little trail shoot down from Orion’s shoulder to the belt. “Weird,” I thought and looked at the eastern sky, still walking, only a few paces way from my building. And then I saw another shooting star.

I realized it’s mid-December and the Geminids are peaking.

I went into my apartment, peed, then went right back on my roof, and lay down, flat on my back. I put my hood on, stuffed my hands into my pockets and looked up. The sky really was so, so, so beautiful.

I really like shooting stars, so I love, love, love meteor showers. My favorites are the Orionids for the intense trails they leave behind, and the Geminids for how generously they decorate the sky. A big reason I love them is because of the childish thing of, like, oh we get to wish on each shooting star. So during a meteor shower, you get so many wishes!

Of course I already wished on the two I had seen earlier. So I waited. The thing about observing the night sky is that in order to really see, you have to soften your gaze. Let your vision kind of dissipate from looking directly at anything, to allowing every part of your entire field of vision hold equal importance, including the very peripherals. I read something recently about how softening your gaze is meant to relax you. How having an intense direct stare can put you in a state of heightened stimulation.

I saw a quick little shooting star just then. Another wish.

It was cold, but I was wearing my thermals, my plastic shell full of down feathers. My wishes are kind of naive. Or maybe a bit embarrassing, to be honest. But who cares, it’s not like these rocks (specifically from this big asteroid 3200 Phaethon)hurtling through space and creating these transient shapes in all directions are judging me. I was starting to get ready to go back inside though, but it was just simply too beautiful to head back. I really wanted to see another one, one that was kind of big and majestic. I waited for what seemed like a half hour, though it was definitely shorter. (I don’t like looking at my phone because it undoes the work my eyes already did of adjusting to the darkness)

I didn’t have any wishes anymore. Even the earlier ones, I was like, y’all, it’s not that serious, don’t worry about those. If I’m being very, very honest, I kind of started crying. Mostly because, what the hell could I possibly wish for? I have pretty much everything I could want or need, really, at least right now. To be so blessed with shelter, food, warmth, love, health, and then to be witness to the ever present beauty of the world, it’s like. Okay !!! Gratefulness overload.

And then in the far right part of my vision, a long, thin shooting star coming from Perseus, arcing into the space right where the darkness of the sky meets the fuzzy light emanating from the Manhattan skyline. It was one of the most gorgeous Geminids I’d seen, impressive, really. What more could I hope to end my impromptu observing on? Thank you, night sky, I love you, I love you, I love you !!!

I distinctly remember thinking, “This is special!!! Remember this!” and I do!!!

I have three friends (all Indian) who can and do pronounce my name correctly, every single time they say it, and every single time I hear it, it’s such a delightful surprise. Yay!

Ultimately, this movie was really fun to watch, especially the sound design and the soundtrack. I was absolutely blasted in the very back row of the Regal and the vibe was amazing.

However, it feels crazy that a month ago Assata Shakur dies and then this comes out. So interesting the biraciality of it all. The French 75 seem to be some kind of anarchist group with catchy and corny dialogue (whatever the hell Teyana Taylor was spouting at the beginning like “free borders, free bodies” blah). The two narrative anchors for the main characters (both on screen (Willa) and off (Perfidia)) are two white boys with very specific and opposing swag.

Ghetto Pat is ultimately useless and clueless and we’re told to think of him as a hero (and is even called one by the one other black guy in this) and we’re supposed to believe it… why? Why did the make fun of the “liberal” who was referring to native lands by their official names and being rightly confidential and secure about sensitive information? There were many funny scenes in this movie but this scene with the phone call (among others) were so like. Disney/Marvel making a “comedic political” statement kind of stale lukewarm hot dog water. Random identity politics with no kind of material analysis vibe.

But I have to say Sean Penn’s performance was awesomeness. It honestly flew by. Maybe I need to watch The Battle of Algiers myself after this.

The only redeeming thing about this was Matthew Broderick fanboying over biology and Godzilla being an asexual diva. Ugh. I can’t believe I own this DVD and the guy at Sweet Pickle Books was like “Just watch… wink” after I bought it for $3.

Honestly, I really enjoyed it the whole time. I didn’t look at my watch once. Bald Nicholas Hoult was awesome.

First few minutes were hot women on cars which is awesome, but I totally did not expect Alexia to be committing an impressive number and variety of murders within the first act. Shocking, disturbing but also fun, and funny.

Incredible sex scene with the car.

The arc with the dad was kooky as fuck. But also touching??? I kept expecting her and the dad to hook up the whole time, but underneath that sexual and scary tension there was something else there with his physique obsessed mind and whatever chip he has on his shoulders. French firefighters are scary.

I cannot believe she fucked that truck too, but I can’t blame her. Ultimately, I wanted to know more about the biomechanics of the birthing and new baby, but I also understand that it’s not about that. Awesomeness.

I love Mary!!! I love Judy!!!

I mostly loved seeing New York in a new city that I had never visited before. Really loving Parker Posey!

I wanted to see GDT’s first movie and honestly was kinda meh throughout most of it. I was invested in the power of this ancient scarab and the scene where Federico Lupi licked the blood of that dirty bathroom floor was fabulous. Wait, so was Ron Perlman acting/speaking bad Spanish. As well as the final action sequence. So maybe I liked this movie!!!

Maybe I should have waited for a spookier month, for rain, and a bit of chill in the air.

But I think I gotta get like really hyped about going to bed early and not eating right before bed. And, like, meditation… or something. Ugh

Sofia’s unfortunate predicament was interesting because I’ve known multiple women who also struggle to orgasm so to me, she’s a friend.

James and Jamie’s story was the most compelling because it turned out to be so poignant and sad and loving, especially when it culminates with Caleb’s (the stalker guy) direct involvement in the end.

Severin’s storyline was fun but felt ultimately a bit unfinished because I couldn’t fully understand what she wanted to achieve.

Honestly as I’m writing this, I’m wanting to watch this again. Might become a DVD purchase. Ugh, such a good flick

When Parker Posey said, “How about everyone stops saying the word ‘dick’? It provokes my envy.” What did she mean by that 🤔

Completely couldn’t believe that it was Ryan Reynolds I was watching. How has he been playing the same kind of guy for over a decade now… I mean honestly, it was fine, it’s an action movie, there are vampires and sometimes it’s hot, but mostly I didn’t care for it that much. Did like the music though, obviously.

I didn’t get to talk very much about it after the movie ended, but I did get to catch up with Claire over dinner at a Dig Inn that was nearby, which was really nice.

The story of the movie follows Damien (Cillian Murphy) as he joins the IRA after witnessing multiple atrocities committed by the British Army. He fights alongside the members of the local flying column until there is a ceasefire between Britain and the IRA. They learn that the treaty signed does not free Ireland entirely which causes a split within the IRA that leads to the Irish Civil War.

Visually what I found most interesting was the training for guerilla warfare by boys who barely knew what they were doing. It was sad, ugh.

I did like thinking about Ken Loach’s ideas about whether the Irish revolution was a social or nationalist one. Reminded me of the readings from the Marxism and National Liberation course…

Ingredients

• Whole wheat everything bagel, halved
• Lox spread cream cheese
• Tomato, sliced
• White onion, thinly sliced

Instructions, but more like, uh, my process

Pop the bagel in the toaster for a while. Salt and pepper the tomatoes and let them rest. Toss the onion in a bowl of ice water, it’ll take some of the edge off. Once the bagel is toasted, let it rest otherwise the cream cheese will just run and get thinner.

Then it’s just about assembling >:)

I also wrap it because I don’t have to worry about things slipping and sliding. Then added a few cherries and barley tea :~)

The weather was cloudy and breezy and it was soooo beautiful and I could feel the walk help with the massive meal I had.

Saw some foliage in the water by the ferry dock.

On my walk back, I saw a mulberry tree by the little beach. I once went on a walk with my friend Genevieve ages ago and she brought an empty water bottle to collect ripe mulberries and I remember thinking it was the most big-brained thing ever. So I climbed up on the stone fence and picked a few. Some were pretty tart and kind of uninspiring, but some were sooooo sweet. Can’t believe they’re just growing on the trees in the city. If anyone’s interested in snacking on some berries while they’re still in season, the city has a tree map :")

I also saw a swan (random). Majestic asf

By the time I got home, I was feeling truly like, damn we really need to be taking a walk (by water, or trees, or grass) after every meal.

What I kept thinking about whenever I noticed the really effective sound design of this movie was this piece called I am sitting in my room by Alvin Lucifer. I came across it on Tumblr a few weeks ago and somehow managed to listen to all of it (not all at once, though I really think that would be the most cool) and the gradual convergence of the resonant frequencies of the room and the vocals into one ambient beam of acoustics kind of scared the shit out of me.

What this movie did best for me was make very physical the muting and numbing and distorting of sound and how much of a miracle it is that it’s being processed within our head, the intricate bones and fleshy chambers in our ears. I’ll keep thinking about it.

I’m a bit delirious with my own ailment, but it really touched me. #WeAreOne

Ultimately, hilarious. Riz Ahmed and Kayvan Novak have this incredible comedic energy together and the dialogue and timing had me yelp-laughing. Maybe because it’s British or something but it does not hold back on what I feel like would now be considered taboo or in bad taste.

(On a side note, I’m wondering if I give too much credit to older movies. I simply don’t watch all that many movies so when I watch any older movie doing anything, I’m like “Wow! Cool, they had that back then!” which is both patronizing and reductive. I’m not really thinking about it with the context at the time and mostly coming from a POV of Did I enjoy that? Yes or no. What cool things could I be missing because I’m just so blown away by the fact that yes of course they effing had cameras back then and this is what they decided to shoot. Now look at what they made, think about it, don’t just marvel and be grateful that you can see whatever was made.

I dunno, I’m thinking about maybe placing less emphasis (T_T) on whether or not I enjoyed a movie and more on something else. Not exactly sure what yet though)

Funny.

Watched with very much a friend, ate a salmon, asparagus and mashed potato salad she made which was delicious.

I was told I’d really enjoy this movie and I think I gotta stop letting people say that to me. Maybe it’s bc I felt pretty sleepy with the first half of the movie and the cult’s rituals, all scenes of the white linen clothing and sunny meadows fading into one another. It did hold my interest but mostly purely out of curiosity rather than feeling really invested. Like oooh how’s he gonna make this whacky and weird? The acting and the set was mad impressive though.

It was also helpful to watch the “Making of…” from the special features section because Ari Aster talks about how this was his break up movie, and you know what, guy, fine.

• back glitter tattoo
• Homoerotic Val and Josie
• Alan Cummings delivery
• Parker Posey perfect with perfect outfits
• transitions being hilarious and effective
• fast pace and never boring
• The songs weren’t annoying or took over whole parts
• Laugh out loud funny
• Good theater
• Funny dialogue

Had a kale caesar salad with grilled chicken and one mozz stick. Had a blast. What more can I say.

Figuring out how I feel, finding the right words for it, putting it down, deciding if that is coming across in a way that can closely approximate what I’m trying to say, it’s a lotta work.

Fractured my pinky, which makes it kinda hard to type. Committed to doing grip exercises and finger push ups now. Hashtag never again, unless it does happen, again, after which I will get through it once more, no biggie.

I read up what little I could on Jia Zhangke in the afternoon, but honestly, I could not really get a handle on what to expect. I was vaguely prepared for a lot of visually striking and maybe some mundane BTS stuff. But somehow, I felt hooked for basically the whole time.

It starts of with a mishmash of older clips, probably from the beginning of the two decades worth of footage. The content itself felt a bit awkward and stilted, interview with a business owner, women singing for money, a man (Brother Bin) and a woman (Qiao Qiao) caught in a weirdly entangled relationship.

But then it follows the woman in her journey to find that same man, seemingly years later. This section had the most gorgeous scenes. I felt compelled to follow along with this woman in her pale sunflower yellow blouse, her plastic water bottle, texting on her tiny phone asking again and again where her leading man is, and not once uttering a single word. I was definitely keying in to how it seemed like she was kind of free to wander around with not much on her and take in the views of the Yangtze River and the construction ? demolition ? in making the Three Gorges Dam.

The final part was jarring because damn, seeing COVID-19 in media, huh. But even that felt endearing, in large part because it was older people interacting with new technology and practices. It made me nervous. Will I adapt as easily or need help from younger people still? Why does that scare me? Seeing the woman age and work, seeing the man age and navigate a new city in a new era. Their reuniting felt heavy thought it was only briefly on screen. But then light very quickly too after the woman finally says something and damn, cut to black.

Honestly not straightforward at all, and I wouldn’t say it’s easy to watch, but I enjoyed it ! Mostly, I spent the hours after coming home listening to Omnipotent Youth Society because their song 杀死那个石家庄人 was featured in this movie. I haven’t listened to them in over 10 years I think, so I’m so glad it’s back on my radar. Woo !

Legit, it was cool to see someone talk about bodybuilding in that way because I do have this morbid, almost body horror fascination with this process. We use our bodies, and then intake nutrition to feed and give energy to the bodies, and then we rest to recover from the activities. All this fundamentally changes our bodies, there is a real, physical difference.

For example, I make breakfast, I’m chopping cilantro, and suddenly I cut my index fingertip the fuck off. I used my body. Then blah blah, I take care of the immediate aftermath. But then I eat food, which my body processes and uses to deliver more oxygen to that area, to make immune cells to stave off any incoming infection. I sleep and in deep sleep, my body regenerates the area around my fingertip to rebuild the skin, nail, and nerve cells in that area.

Of course our bodies change in general without any activity at all, even breathing or living, by virtue of time and the decay that follows cellular life cycles. But with bodybuilding, the thing that you’re trying to change isn’t your skin or bone density, but the superficial muscles that push against the inside of your skin, visible in its entirety to the eye. It’s like carving a statue, you are about symmetry, size, proportion. Needless to say, you have to be severely mentally ill of some sort to be any kind of good in this sport. And you can see that in Pumping Iron.

The first scenes are of Arnold taking lessons with a ballet dancer on how to best show off his musculature and hold the attention of an eager audience. He then directly talks to the camera about how the feeling of getting a good pump is akin to having sex with a woman and coming. He clearly has a desire to be a dominating figure in this industry. He’s charming, cool, magnetic, and inspiring. Of course, bodybuilding would blow up after all that attention he garnered, dudes want to be big and huge and charming, cool, magnetic and inspiring like Arnold. I mean, after watching this, same, to be honest.

But the later competition and mind games between the athletes didn’t really keep my attention. I was mostly looking at this amazing quality of vascular and pumped muscles on screen, paired with these guttural and animalistic grunts from pushing, pushing, pushing half reps until failure, pushing and failing again. No regard for their joints, or long term health whatsoever. It’s honestly seriously fabulous, and I think they should all do as many anabolic steroids as they want. I keep having this desire of wanting to explore every nook and cranny of a the cadaver of a bodybuilder in his prime. What’s the state of their muscles before they atrophy, how extensive is the facial network, how mobile or lubricated are their joints, what’s the state of their poor, how hard did their heart have to work to pump so much blood into their system. How athletic are they? Can they stand on one foot with their eyes closed? Can they touch their toes?

A big part of my fascination I think also comes from the visual pleasure of seeing clearly defined shapes in the human body, for drawing. What a gift this movie is to both provide that footage, but also the chain reaction of its reception inevitably kicking off fitness culture and bodybuilding and shaping. A momentum that produced endless research which currently manifests in hot women giving themselves sciatica by doing 20 heavy reps on Bulgarian split squats for a BBL butt, and alpha men spamming a 225 bench through shoulder pain and weak rotator cuffs.

We all need hobbies. As a visual creature in a lookism culture, it’s like having another way to observe and experience the world and its people. It’s fun to notice someone’s triceps as they pick up something heavy from the ground, someone’s low-insert gastrocnemius muscles straining in front of me we both ascend the subway stairs.

God-willing I will never want to nor be able to achieve a less than 25% body fat or eat more than 130g of protein every day, but I’m glad to share in the rewards of others pursuing that.

The very beginning scenes containing like a series of jumpscares about what happened last night kept me locked in my seat. And I love love love a movie or story that takes place in just one day. It was so cool to remember all the various things that happened during the day that kept coming back later in the movie. Like:Smoke stabbing and killing the snake and letting it bleed to death, the same way in which Stack did. Smoke seeing a girl with a flower and teaching her how to negotiate for a higher price, teaching some economics and what he couldn’t teach his own daughter.

The one thing that kept bugging me was trying to figure out what compels the vampires to do the bad thing. Maybe I just couldn’t follow what was said in the song with the white Irish man dancing his tush off but at some point I couldn’t really get a handle on what the stakes were for the vampires.

I love love loved the kind of Twilight flying the vampires did, ugh seriously. The drool was whacky though. #CunnilingusNation

Things I didn’t like: the acting, the length, I couldn’t - for the life of me - care about the stakes enough. It’s such a clearly American diaspora of a movie because, like, who wants babies that much? Who would give up money that easily? It was so messy. The arguments between the couples felt forced.

I’m sad to see Bowen play the same kind of low self esteem character twice.

Not a single abortion. Really hard for the anti-natalist in me.

Compelling things about the movie: relationship between Angela Chen and her mother. Min’s art.

Nothing about this movie felt satisfying to me except some scenes with cool colors, like when Min and his grandma went to try cakes and that space was bathed in a dark green light.

Some of the dialogue was goofy fun though.

Like Mulholland Drive, I mostly enjoyed the colors, and soundscape of the movie. The atmosphere felt so tense and loaded. I also don’t know very much about the mystery or noir genre, they honestly never really appealed to me. “Like oooh who could have done this?” I don’t know!!! Not my problem…! And noir only appeals to me in the aesthetic sense of having a hot femme fatale, and things taking place at night time, hopefully with cool reflective neon bright colors. I’d say Blue Velvet delivered on most of that which is why I’m ultimately glad I watched it.

But I don’t think it matters, I had fun watching it. Martin Lawrence’s “Believe that” reminded me a lot of Naruto’s “Believe it!” …………

I found myself bopping my head to the music and honestly laughing at a buncha the jokes just because they were so earnestly slapstick. Honestly felt very nostalgic. Although this was overall a really random watch, I’m glad I did.

Doing research about the Roosevelt Ave sweep for a presentation and I’m just like bro, our fucking tax money!!! Out there creating more dummies with guns instead of building lasting housing for everyone.

I feel crazy, crazy !!!!!!!

Damn, I cannot believe I wasn’t watching this while Jen Shah was going down in real time… it’s never too late

Truly a slay for the culture of aesthetics that I seem to be unable to detangle myself from.

A cat having cancer is so crazy, like what ever do you meannnnnnn. All other bothers faded into the background as a result though. So funny how that works. A friend pisses me off < I think I’m getting fired from work < My little guy needs an expensive procedure… like, life is continuing, continuing.

Yesterday I went to a hella awkward party, truly a humbling experience. I picked up my 12ml waterbottle from REI and then watched Sonic 3. I was kinda bored, but now my TikTok algo keeps showing me sonadow and, I literally… literally all I wanna do is read my gay manga and sleep for a few days.

I skipped the gym today because I keep doing shoulder presses on non-push days and I think I’d perish if I hit delts twice in a row. I think I need to hit more cardio these days anyway. The air quality is getting worse, I probably am allergic to a handful of things, and going from one side of the Time Sq 42nd st station to the other for volleyball regularly with my mask on cannot be my warm up.

I miss dancing in a crazy way.

I’m not sure about labor being the forefront of resistance. People are cucks.

Met a buncha random people at parties this month and there was some variation of ‘Well what’s your plan?’ like in relation to ending up with someone in a relationship, like an endgame like marriage or an intentional communal living arrangement if you’re alt in any way at all. I legit can’t think about this when I’m like a few months away from doing my first real pull up. It’s like a psychic censor.

Drinking coffee from the Bialetti 3cup moka express I bought from this lady who lives in the Sky Building. She gave me some of her Lavazza coffee grounds. She can’t drink coffee anymore :( The moka pot looks used as fuck lol but I’m really enjoying my cup!

Puppycat is has been crazy cute lately. His lump still has me freaked out. I love him, I love him

I want to go camping some day in the winter and I wonder if I’ll feel the same way somewhere out on a mountain.

Meat

• Chicken breasts
• Chipotles in adobo sauce
• Yogurt (Greek or home made)

Tacos

• Blue corn taco tortillas
• Cilantro
• Limes
• Onion
• Avocado
• Cheese

1. Slice chicken breasts in half and toss in large sandwich bags or tupperware
2. Chop 4 chipotle peppers and toss in bag
3. Add two dollops of yogurt into bag and shake it to mix and coat the chicken breasts
4. Let marinate overnight
5. Heat up a cast iron skillet with some olive oil
6. Turn oven to 375
7. Add each halved chicken breast at a time to seat on cast iron skillet
8. Once all chicken has been seared, put them all in the pan and in the oven for around 10 minutes
9. Take chicken out and let cool
10. Meanwhile, chop up limes, cilantro and onion and mix. This topping is nice after it sits in the tangy lime juice and cilantro can spread
11. Warm up tortillas on a pan, add chopped chicken, add cheese
12. Fold over and flip to toast both sides
13. Place tacos on plate and top with lime, cilantro and onion mixture and sliced avocado

Notes:

• Most of the time that I’ve cooked the chicken, I’ve been paranoid about it being raw so I overcook it. But not to worry, I chop it up small enough for the tacos that the cheese and moisture from the toppings make it pleasant, and the marinade really stands out.
• I’ll have a creamy avocado sauce with yogurt, avocado, and limes or hot sauce. But depends on how my stomach feels that day

But now, I’m asked ‘Oh so you grew up in the city?’ and I have to be like, no, I meant the states like America, we actually moved to New Jersey.

‘So when did you move to New York?’

‘When I went to college here. And then I just stayed here.’

Even reading this here on my editor now… I don’t love how I say ‘I just stayed here.’ Because I didn’t just do anything, I think I worked kinda hard to stay here.

A version of me is a senior SWE at Target and raising three malamutes in an apartment with a backyard in Minneapolis right now, probably happy as hell right now. In the same way that I’m reading and napping in my spacious apartment in New York on a lovely crisp autumn Sunday afternoon. Catching up on some rest from having come home at 3am, grateful to have seen at least one shooting start at Harriman State Park last night. Happy as hell!

The book is about a woman named Miri and her wife, Leah, who went on a submarine trip to the deepest part of the ocean and came back wrong. It follows both womens’ POVs, with Miri’s serving as a way to talk about their relationship, while Leah’s was about the experience of being down there in the ocean and the psychological state of her crew members.

Though there was a sense of foreboding, and the payoff toward the end was nice, I mostly enjoyed Miri’s thoughts about her and Leah’s relationship. They were both so different, and the love Miri has for Leah came across in the way she appreciated Leah’s kindness and sweetness. And Leah’s love for Miri came across in the small actions or anecdotes she recalls.

In particular, my favorite was about how Leah taught Miri how to swim. Maybe because I was spending a significant amount of time at the pool myself this summer, but it all seemed so, so sweet. They were sweethearts!

It was that much more devastating when my friend told me later, ‘Oh and of course, how Leah’s transformation was not even real, she definitely died down there.’ I was like :0 Here I was thinking there was some sci-fi / supernatural element in all this, but no, it’s grief.

Still such a touching and memorable reading experience.

$(shell printf "%q" "$(TITLE)")

But when there’s spaces or punctuation, the backward slash fucks up the file name. It too so long to figure out how I can replace the spaces with a _

$(shell echo $(TITLE) | tr ' ' '_')

at long last !!!

I’ve been saying that I’ve been in a “music slump” for almost over a year now. I thought of various things that might help me out:

• going to live shows
• learning to play an instrument
• listening to just noise

But none of those really worked. Live shows because I haven’t gone to one since the pandemic started and am still a bit too worried about crowds. Also because the kinds of music and musicians I want to see live have dwindled down so much, I don’t even know who I’d love to see that much anyway. (I am going to see Chinese Football in October after Annie told me they’re playing, but even this I’m mostly interested in getting a look at their merch lol)

I’ve been too busy enjoying my other hobbies to commit to picking up an instrument.

Noise was actually great but it didn’t lead to me enjoying other music.

A big part of this is how much Spotify sucks doodoo. A list of grievances with this fuckass app:

• the family blend !!! Like nooooo don’t put the songs I’m listening to on blast in a packagable, consumable lil playlist for others in my family plan to use what the hell
• recommending the song Mother Nature’s Bitch by Okay Kaya, like I never wanted so badly to block a song or artist as much as I wanted to for this track like WHY did it keep showing up
• couldn’t block users for the longest time
• music discovery is so ooo oooooo bad !!! the daily mixes and made for you were TRASH ! >:( literally have no idea why they kept pushing the artists and tracks they were toward me. God forbid a woman listens to the Yarichin Bitch Club’s ending theme song on repeat because it’s catchy and suddenly yaoi is one of your top listened to genres in wrapped…
• the AI dj……. put him down…
• they rejected my application for Senior Data Scientist… like you couldn’ta just given me the job. Now look how that turned out

Anyway, I’m glad to be looking at alternatives again.

I feel like I’m losing my mind. I feel like I’m just playing a Sim of myself at parties and social gatherings. I literally love being alive. I feel so much enjoyment in the creative things I do, I love seeing the bees in the sunflowers that my neighbors plant in the plot of soil on the sidewalk in front of their house every single summer. And I’m still paying thousands and thousands of dollars for this fuck ass country to bomb and kill the shit out of people abroad and also right here in this city.

Organizing through labor feels more and more like a self-congratulatory practice for myself in navigating centuries old entrenched bureaucracy and less and less like an actual arm of the left that can mobilize and enact change. Or maybe I’m just feeling overwhlelmed and impatient. Something something urgency is a core tenant of white supremacy. But bro, I don’t think we’re gonna gentle parent ourselves outta this situation.

I feel so robbed, like we’re literally never going to space again. That’s what I’m crying about??? I learned about galaxies before I learned about the moon landing so I thought that we were already doing intergalactic travel when I was, like, 10 or something. Why are we still making T-shirts with an ironed on decal of Naruto made half out of plastic that bounce around 4 different countries and why am I legitimately tempted by ads for them every single time?

I know I’m not alone in feeling this way, and I’m grateful for the people I’m able to unload on about all this. But sometimes I feel like we all need to shake each others shoulders and ask if we’re still here and real and ‘Are you fucking seeing all this shit?’

The annoying ass bluejay who lives in the tree across from my apartment is screaming and honestly, I’m more than happy to hear that over the fireworks. Gonna go watch Terminator 2 and hope that the NYPL late fees I’m racking up are only jokes until I return it.

Okay, honestly one of the boringest books I’ve made myself finish in a long time. But as soon I got to the part where Dora was gonna fuck her clone Theo, I was back in. And then calling him her twin? Okay go off..

Still predictable ending and I couldn’t really care for the characters much. Maybe because it’s a novella so it’s short? Or maybe I because I found myself cringing at the queer future in this world. Anyway, glad it’s over!

🥹🥹🥹

Anyway, I can’t believe I graduated undergrad 7 years ago. A hard reset of all my cells since then, lfgggggg

I used to feel like rainy days were only nice for being cozy and indoors, but now I love seeing all the worms and damp grass smell, even if they’re on the sidewalks, even if it’s the moss growing on a cobblestone

Wait I lied so hard, I drank a lot in CDMX. HAHAHAH that was really fun. It also felt appropriate. “I don’t really know you people and this social lubricant will help all of us have fun.”

I guess I don’t really miss alcohol is all. And I’m not terribly broken up about having to meet mostly outdoors, forgoing dancing at night, and definitely going to shows. At least for now. Wearing a mask, now matter how much it goes with my outfit, for 12+ hours multiple days a week is recreating on my face that intense scene from Osmosis Jones where Osmosis Jones and Drix blow up The Zit and Bill Murray’s insane zit pops in front of his love interest. Anyway, the maskne is insane.

I don’t want to get COVID again !!! I want to be the best I can be when I’m 40 years old one day, I want to be 50 years old and going up multiple flights of stairs !!! I want to be alive !!!

Internationalism in the time of Lenin. See that there are major changes in Russia.

For example, women wanted bread so they started the February Revolution.

What do we want: peace, land, and bread. Lenin’s Bolshevik’s slogan.

After Bolshevik revolution, all imperialists went to Russia to invade. 21 different armies. Lenin said there can be no socialist movement unless it’s global.

every successive revolution is a culmination of past revolutions

organizations what wanted complete independence of africa pan-african - du bois marcus garvey - commintern

Going to protests as an undergrad felt very fringe-participatory, like, oh I’ll go or I won’t, I don’t really know what’s going on but also no one does and also we have a computer animation final coming up that I’m going to absolutely bomb.

Then COVID-19 breaking months right after I ended a years long relationship and began my graduate studies woke me up a little, but still in a very liberal mindset. Bang your pots and pans at 7pm for health care workers! Believe science! Fuck Trump! Vote Bernie now more than ever!!!

Then Black Lives Matter movements in summer of 2020, disillusioned with the upcoming election, and for the first time, having my feelings and thoughts have some sort of organization with my one sociology in education class, like yeah this isn’t just some Tumblr University shit. Still no cohesion though, no throughline. Come November, Instagram felt downright silly, like what are we even doing here. That’s not me on IG, that’s not me in that photo, that’s not me even as I was posing for that photo. We are not talking, interacting, communing, teehee-ing on there, we’re not. I fell off and enjoyed it.

I stewed and then enjoyed a single, out-of-body year working remotely for a Canadian company feeling entirely crazy while simultaneously trying to convince myself I was actually so normal and this is fine. That yeah we can start a union charter for tech workers, just me and a comrade I met months ago both in New York working for the same milktoast ass company. I remember telling Fiona, days before, “Dude I wish they’d just lay me off” followed with a ’lol’ or ‘haha’ of some kind to couch my actual full chested desire. And then it actually fucking happened! And it was probably the best thing to have happened to me at the time and I knew it then too. I knew everything would change and be different and I would be okay and tried to internalize it all at once.

It took a session talking to a career coach, Prapthi’s old co-worker, to admit that I wanted a low stakes job. Now that I have one, despite commuting 45 minutes twice a day, five days a week, working 8 hours at the office, I feel like I have more time than ever. For myself to rest, exercise, think, plan, learn, organize with my community, spend time with loved ones, do the things I want to do. (I could absolutely not do this while I was working remotely full time. I was terrified of taking a break to go on a walk because … because I don’t even know why anymore, but the terror of not coming across like I was hard working enough was petrifying.)

I cannot imagine sitting on my chair, frozen and unable to just fucking skip work to protest for Gaza or not staying a few hours longer at the pantry. I could barely show up for myself.

My desire for action, for change still feels disorganized but there’s some direction. A personal desire for self-possession, agency, and liberation. And an extension, bidirectional, for the self-possession, agency, and liberation for all.

I made some on Tuesday afternoon but then I forgot to put it in the fridge on Wednesday morning and then I ended up sleeping over at Fiona’s and went to work directly on Thursday morning and I was like FUCK my stinky yogurt, I got home Thursday evening and it was gnarly.

The first time I made it I think I was like 7 years old and I read about it in school I think and I also made Maggi soup and made Granny try both lmao

Ma said the culture should be fine to just make it again so it will be fine.

I remember the days leading up to buying it. We started off Italy with Milan where we barely had 36 hours, but next was Venice where Erin got her leather jacket from this one spot in this labyrinth of stores we were walking around in. It looked so cool and I wanted one too but I figured I’d wait until we had more time.

I found a leather school in Florence and once we got settled in and met up with Sofia too in our Airbnb, we split up. Some went to the Uffizi, I’m pretty sure, and I was honestly sick of looking at the same kind of paintings. I think Erin came with me? We went to Scuola del Cuoio and because it was a whole school, it was cool to see people working on their leather crafts. It was a lot of bags and wallets and when I mentioned I wanted a leather jacket, this man showed me two. One was pretty feminine with the wide collar and a bit longer torso too. The other was the one I got, a bit more simple and clean lines and two zipper pockets on the upper chest. My only gripe was that the zippers were silver and I was on a gold kick. Haha !!! I paid, like, $400 for it which was the most I had ever spent on one piece of clothing, and just one thing in general. It was Columbia’s financial aid money. Ha !

I was so skinny and it fit pretty snug even then. I remember telling myself, if I wear it every single day for a whole year, I’d be basically paying a little over a dollar to ‘rent’ it for that day. Great deal!

Now it’s 8 years later. They sent me some invites to their trunk shows and show rooms years after I bought this jacket. I wish I remembered the name of the man who sold me this jacket and kindly told me that my middle school level Italian was perfectly good. I didn’t realize how important that specific part of that trip was. I had also bought a wallet for Pa and Erin bought a bag that was the perfect size for her iPad, I think.

I wore it a lot for the remainder of college and then on and off in 2017-2018 but then stopped completely until, like, 2022. There left bottom part of the front zipper fused a little from some heat accident, probably. The corner of the left pocket lining was torn. I would smoke and put the roaches in that pocket and I remember it would smell like gnarly pot for months. I thought, oh maybe I’ll replace the lining with something dramatic, like red satin or get the zippers replaced. Maybe I’ll sell it or do away with it because it fit so snug now, almost like second skin and I was still not sure if I liked that feeling. My shoulders are rounded out now, my back is wide and built, I don’t slouch as often so my chest puffs up and makes the soft leather stretch. It sits a bit awkwardly when I zip it up now with a bump from just below my chest up to the top of my bulky belt. But it’s fine when I have my hands in the pockets and my left index finger pokes through the torn corner lining and feels the inside of the leather shell. Sometimes, I would store a single dollar in the upper zipper pockets because I wanted to be able take cash out quickly when people asked for money on the subway. I replaced that dollar so religiously that when I wore it again after years of not taking it out, I was so happy and surprised to see cash in that pocket.

I dawdled. I was like, oh I’ll look for a leather specialist, I’ll go to the cobbler, I’ll maybe even just drop it off at dry cleaning. There were a few times where I’d catch my cuffs or back of the sleeves and see just how dry it was, to the point of discoloration. It’s like seeing an ashy elbow framed with an expensive tattoo. Like girl, what are you even doing ??? So then I started reddit’ing and googling, and months of ‘Should I get mink oil? Do I need saddle soap?’

And it’s like okay dude, just fucking start. So I wiped it with plain old water last night, just the front and the sleeves. Some of the discoloration stayed, some other marks faded immediately. I followed up with this leather wax I bought last year to make pad an Amazon purchase for the free shipping. (Like, oh I’ll eventually get to leather care.) I used my finger tips even though the instructions said to use a microfiber cloth. Immediately the wear on the cuffs darkened and softened. The stitching along the zipper and looked soft and supple again. I noticed that the stitches around the pockets were coming apart in the corners and I got a bit worried and then chilled out. Of course they’re coming apart. I’m using the hell out of them.

Today, I’ll do the back and maybe reapply to the front because it really is thirsty, I think, after eight years of wear and no TLC. I love wearing it!!! I love taking care of it !!!

And the two absolute doofuses they have on right now is an AI “Optimist” freak who believes that technology is a democratizing and resources are infinite, and another freak whose sense of geopolitical influence is stuck at The Cold War and nothing earlier or current.

Huh !!! Listening to long form insanity and stupidity with full earnestness. We are so addicted to solving problems with an answer that introduces an entirely new breed of problems. I ?

I went to the Aritzia in SoHo today because they had a few of the slouch wool coats I’ve been looking at and it was absolutely brimming, packed, with girlies of all kinds. I went all the way there and pretty much immediately turned back. Part of it was just feeling overwhelmed by the crowd, and a part of it was simply not wanting to looking like every other bitch in there.

Also part of it was the bizarre dissonance of being in a crowd and not chanting or screaming or yelling for a ceasefire.

I don’t even think I doomscroll for more than a dozen hours a week (which, incredibly enough, is on the lower end for me). Aside from exercising, I’m struggling to find a way to be in my body when I’m alone. I scroll (doom or not) because I feel lonely or bored. Seeing OP fanart, double tapping a Tumblr post with a bunch of links to free e-books I will likely never read, reading a YouTube video thumbnail and already making up my mind about the contents- they all make me feel less bored, yeah, but definitely not less lonely.

And I don’t think the kind of isolation or loneliness I’m feeling is something I need to fix. I think it’s more that I’ve become a stranger to spending time with myself again, and I’ve begun calling that loneliness. I mean, it makes sense. It’s easy to spend time in my brain and body when life is going well, when I’m not sitting with discomfort or pain. Now, every 5 minutes alone - without music, without reading, without scrolling, without planning, without reflecting - actually alone where all I am doing is breathing, it’s unbearable.

Ugh, but I knowwwwwwwww, the sweetness of taking a big, slow, steady inbreath, and the oddly humbling and funny feeling of a slow-as-I-can outbreath where my ribs are caving in. And then doing that all over again until I feel lightheaded and silly and properly oxygenated.

I don’t think it will make me feel better, not in the way I so desperately wish. And I am desperate, desperate enough to exhaust every podcast in my lineup when washing the dishes or doing the laundry, enough to bring my laptop to the bathroom while I brush my teeth because my headphones and phone are charging. But, I think, at least I will feel worse and bad and uncomfortable in a way that’s actually more mine. There’s so much clutter in my brain, I can feel it rattling around to the point of white noise.

I felt more normal after going to the library to print a buncha stuff. Also after I peed the pee I was holding in.

I hear a helicopter pretty much every evening now. I hope my toe holds up during the protest tomorrow. Next week, I hope to see many, many shooting stars when the Geminids peak.

But also I just realized that I still have absolutely no tolerance for people who are like ‘I like girls, but I’m just so intimidated by them.’ So! One day I’ll be chill about that but for now, all I can think is cowards! That screenshot from SATC that’s like ‘Sweetheart, that’s all well and nice, but if you’re not going to eat pussy, then you’re not a dyke.’

On my way to get coffee with Kelly C. at Lately Cafe, I saw parts of the NYC Marathon, Court St lined off with pink tape for runners and participants. Talking to Kelly, I felt like my cup was filling. I shared some of the things that feel so scary to me right now and she shared her fears. A lot of them are the same ones. And for the ones that are not the same, I felt less alone and helpless. Sitting in the courtyard behind the cafe, hearing the whoops and claps for the runners out on the street, drinking my americano, feeling grateful.

Though I had both Sneha and Kelly F on FindMyFriends, I somehow missed both of them, the former because I could not find her among the throngs of athletes and the latter because my phone died.

I went home for the afternoon after finding one geocache with Kelly. I hit up Evan wondering if he would wanna get ice cream before Kelly F’s celebration in Brooklyn and he said yes! I was so happy! Ice cream! Before dinner! OOoooooooOOOo h ! I worked on figuring out how to watercolor figure drawings for a few hours and then headed off to Ample Hills.

It was so lovely to eat ice cream in the crisp fall night and chat with a friend who is taking an important next step in his life.

It made me think, I feel so grown up and it doesn’t feel scary. Seeing people - ones I met and grew alongside during some of my most formative years - get married, start families, move, and change jobs… it feels normal now. Or normal-er. I think this kind of change scared me (and still scares me to an extent) especially because most of these indicators of change are very material and visible (house, photos, literal child). And a lot of changes are internal too, ones that lead to those actions and decisions in the first place.

I used to feel so threatened when someone was not thinking about the things I was thinking about or moving in a direction that I was moving toward. Like, it meant something about me, like I was alone, or wrong, or missing something. I would waffle between feeling righteous and completely isolated. Now, I really think all of this is soooooooo normal and expected. The process of becoming myself is slow, and painful, and scary and I think probably this is true for everyone. I feel a lot more grateful to witness the process of my friends becoming more and more themselves now.

When I went to Washington Commons to congratulate Kelly F, I met their friend’s dog, a dachshund named Pickles. He is five months old and already contains multitudes. I watched him pee outside and took the train home, mentally patting myself on the back for eating the vegan ice cream flavor.

Okay yeah looks like my left foot shrunk haha no ! okay? I just make sure whatever my benchmark is this time is consistent for both feet so the difference between them is significant. And it’s not looking that significant. :(

It hurts less to walk around and stretch my toe though. I recently read about the POLICE protocol vs the RICE protocol.

I figured now is a good a time as any to see how long it will take my right turf toe ass injury to at least chillllllllllllllll

It’s crazy how people give you right of way immediately when you’re using crutches or a cane. The back of my right armpit hurts from the crutch, I didn’t realize that would happen.

I sleep so much now during the day, just little afternoon cat naps with my foot elevated on my three pillows and a plastic sandwich bag full of re-melted ice cubes leaning against it. Lots of fun dreams though.

Puppycat has been dutifully sleeping on his lil mat on my bed and follows me into the living room if I decide I need to sit and lie down on a different surface.

I miss walking. It’s not like I ever took it for granted but the past few days have been gorgeous weather and even though I know I wouldn’t have gone for a walk every single one of those days, I wish I had the option! TOEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!

I loved the balls to the wall body horror. The hundreds of little teeth in Erin’s tongue, the insane way that this disease spreads, the increasingly dreaded feeling that nothing you or anyone does will change anything. I loved reading about Erin and Betty, their insane toxic yuri ass relationship. Even toward the end when they were transformed and having crazy angel sex through Mareva’s eyes, I felt endeared.

My least favorite story was Savannah’s. I just don’t like her very much, she’s kind of corny. But I do like her as a character though, the commitment to the bit.

One of the scariest things was Mareva’s whole story. Also the vision of her future where she’s just one giant limbless blob birthing multitudes of creatures to populate the new world and becoming deified with each new set of progeny.

I was most confused about the man ? dude ? person ? she encountered who gave her a ring that allowed her to escape that fate. It made me want to learn more but I was also happy for the story that this was and how fast paced and visceral it was.

Horror ! Cosmic, body horror ! I love ! I’m so glad I randomly picked this up and I hope to read more stories like this one.

I woke up at 5am after the kind of fitful sleep you get, like, right before the first day of school. I fed Puppycat, packed what was remaining and took an Uber to JFK. Straightforward stuff at the airport. Straightforward stuff on the flight. Though, I did watch Dungeons and Dragons: Honor Among Thieves and it had me giggling. My ass also started hurting around hour 3 so I was glad to land soon. I realized I had been kind of nervous the whole time up until I got in the Uber to the hostel because as soon as we got on the road I was like ‘Oh this is like Hyderabad’ and felt immediately more relaxed.

Checked in at the hostel. It’s nice. No one’s in my 6-bed Female only room yet. More like 6-bed Me-only. I was fighting off a mild headache when a staff member came in asking to leave for 30 minutes because they had to fumigate the rooms (lol) which was perfect timing anyway because I had not eaten aside from a handful of chips and definitely more than 1/4th of a cup of pistachios. I started walking to this place called Ricos Tacos Toluca. Truly, I was like wow all cities are the same and also entirely different. I like the small streets and the ones that have cobblestone and the buildings that have bright colors painted on them with tiny balconies. Once I got to the location, they were closed !!! Cry emoji… I walked back and collapsed on my bed but then hauled my ass to the rooftop and ate a burger, and then drank a coke while drawing this cool building across from my table. The rooftop was entirely empty, by the way. They were setting up for a live music event tonight along with 100peso all-you-can-drink happy hour. It was 4pm and I wanted to sleep, like 4+ REM cycles sleep.

Finished my lil drawing and then hauled ass again to get a toothbrush. It’s a lot calmer after rush hour around here.

I found that my Spanish is definitely usable and more importantly, everyone is friendly and patient enough to communicate effectively and without pressure.

I’m also feeling shy! Or maybe tired? Or scared? Okay definitely not scared. But I’m a little bit disoriented for sure. For some reason, I’m like, oh, I need a full morning and a breakfast and coffee before I can put on my persona for meeting people or going outside and wanting to actually do something. Understandable. It’s so interesting how I still feel a sense of I should be behaving this way and literally, literally no one is here to enforce it. It’s just me. I’m my own cop. yuqiboy police department, headcount: 1. Ha! I kind of love this feeling though, it feels exciting. Curious to see how I will feel tomorrow.

Day 2, Wednesday

Okay, today was a little bit fun, a little bit whacky, a little bit awkward and overall what I would expect from this to be honest.

I woke up at 6am and dallied around because I was still alone in my 6-bed female dorm room. Finally went to the co-working space and career-doomscrolled on LinkedIn and Reddit until 8:30am-ish. I figured I spent enough time stressing myself out and went to the rooftop to have a fat breakfast of a yogurt bowl with berries and peanut butter and an omelette on top of chilaquiles with red sauce and a coffee with milk and sugar. God it was so good. I was so full. I ended up also drawing the facade of the building in front of me.

I joined a buncha others for the walking tour in Roma. It was a super social experience and I wanted to take out my sketchbook and draw but we were chatting, gabbing, and walking. We took a bus and then a train to get there and honestly, by the end of the tour, I was happy to have had a card and the subway and bus system felt like a breeze.

We first got churros at El Moro, the original location, and it was so yummy. We had tacos at Bazar del Oro and then a bunch of us got craft beers and pulque at this biergarten spot. We ended the tour in Parque Mexico and it was so serene and peaceful and green. We went back to the hostel and I finally got a SIM card here.

The event on the rooftop tonight at the hostel was Karaoqueer. I wanted to go and see who was gay. Ha! Literally no one except the drag queen Toxxic. She was a blast. There were some good performances. Two dudes from “Holland” sang The Real Slim Shady by Eminem which reminded me of slavic boy culture. The dude next to me said something casually anti-semitic to this annoying girl who wouldn’t stop talking about how she coudln’t wait to do grad school in Israel because the economy is shit. Whatta mess. I drank my beer. I went to bed. Nope. I watched 3 episodes of One Piece because I coudln’t stop farting for, like, an hour. Then I went to bed.

Day 3, Thursday

I was excited for this morning. I knew the cafes I wanted to get breakfast at, I knew the spots I wanted to sit and sketch at, I knew I was in for a chill day alone. I took the train to {STOP} and then walked to what I thought was the RTP bus stop. I waited for 20+ minutes with multiple local busses stopping and passing me by. I then checked Google Maps and Moove It for the 11th time when I realized I overshot the bus stop by a block and it was a lot closer to the train station. The bus arrived just on time.

I had coffee at Que Llueva Cafe and sat there for about an hour, reading, drawing, sipping my coffee and downing my chilaquiles.

Casa Azul was cool. But I felt like I didn’t have the knowledge or context about Frida Kahlo that woulda made me appreciate it more. Maybe?

I walked to the Leon Trotsky’s House Museum and it was mad cool. I loved the gardens and the study and how the windows were placed, like, directly in the center of a wall. After chilling there for a bit, I went and ate at this Lebanese restaurant, GRUTA EHDEN. It was… fine. Ha.

Later that evening, I then went with Greg to get tacos at Taqueria Los Güeros de López. Another Australian named James joined us and we chatted away while I ate my chicken tacos and relished in the compliments about my Spanish pronounciation from these two white guys. James asked me something I loved though: “What do you do? What do you like to do?” And I feel like this is the kind of question I dream of getting asked because it’s in direct opposition to “What do you do for work?” and so I said I like to draw and have been wanting to draw a bunch on this trip. Then I quickly turned the question back to them and they both do Australian Man things like fishing, driving, basketball, watch sports. All of us went back to the hostel and had a beer while watching Latin night where an instructor led a dance lesson. Feeling a bit curious, brave and the tiniest bit tipsy, I got James to join me and he indeed did have two left feet but it was fun. He quickly retired but I went through the rest of the rotation of guys until the end of class and felt giddy with the remnants of rhythmic dance steps still thrumming in my body.

Eventually it was just me and Patricia on the roof and we had another beer and cab’d it to Zona Rosa. It was supposedly lesbian night at Kinky Bar but it looked e m p t y ! We walked around though and eventually stayed put outside this karaoke bar Cantina Las Bohemias. Patricia and I somehow ended up talking about tough family and personal life forks we were both navigating. To the tune of New York, New York and also Cruel Angel’s Thesis. Yes. Yes!

It wasn’t looking super dancy by 1am so we promised a tomorrow and got a hot dog off the street and cab’d it back home where I downed a liter of water in the common areas. I met three random dudes, Austin, Gianni and Casual all three who left us at the rooftop but were pathetically touchy after a night of drinking. I autistically denied their hugs and pleasantries and went to bed.

Day 4, Friday

Ah yes, my solo day ! Me me me ! I took the bus to Museo Nacional de Antropologia and walked around the huge space. Then walked to Chapultepec Castle where I waited in line behind a buncha teenagers wearing these goofy hats that spat out water. The castle was gorgeous. I wanted to draw, like, every part of it. But then I realized I hadn’t eaten and more or less booked it back to the hostel to rest before Lucha Libre.

We had a Mexican influencer El Charro Gonzalez join us for the lucha match. First ate a whole buncha tacos and tequila shots. Then learned all the curse words and chants. The match itself was wild but it reminded me distinctly of watching an a capella performance. Like, yes ! I love theatre, I love the arts. I love to drink a big glass of beer and yell ! We got to meet some of the wrestlers backstage, including some of the women, because of Charro :~)

Somehow, the night kept going and we were on our way to Salon Tenampa in Plaza Garibaldi for mariachi. First, an earthquake alert that has us ushered outta the white van. Then back. Ale and Deisi said “Welcome to Mexico!” and laughed the whole way there. Got free drinks and dinner and it was delicious delicious birria tacos and the world’s most precarious frozen margarita that got us dancing cumbia to two mariachi bands playing completely different songs.

We tore ourselves away from the IG production inside the salon and wound up at Soberbia which was, again, like vibrating sardines to the most banging music. An hour (!) I’m not even entirely sure how it passed so quickly before walking back to the hostel with everyone.

Day 5, Saturday

Decided to skip breakfast and go directly to Lola! for brunch. Somehow ended up a party of 3 after inviting Patricia and then Jimi. I sat at Bou instead because Lola! was so busy and ended up behind this probably-was-a-second-date couple who were so loud with juicy gossip. I love Americans.

At this point I was realizing how much of my trip was actually not solo. Or. I dunno, I am alone, but also “somehow” end up with company, sometimes good, other times great, and some other times boring and trite. I was finally joined by Patricia and Jimi and listened to enough of the couple talking about ethical non-monogamy and toxic masculinity and divine feminine energies.

I continued to shop and found a cute black linen top.

I ended up getting dinner with Colin and his employee (lol) Carlos at El Consentido. Mostly, I just wanted flautas. But once we got up there, there was this gorgeous big painting on the wall and I got chicken huaraches and flautas. Colin was on my walking tour but both these dudes were kinda random locals. They really enjoyed this spot though, it seemed and were grateful for the rec, even though, again, I simply wanted flautas.

It was Patricia’s last day and she insisted we go out. We went to Mr. Duck. Probably my favorite night of dancing. After acquiring that thin film of sweat, beer and other people’s breath clinging to my skin, I left just a little early to walk back to the hostel alone. It was a 12 minute walk and I was tipsy. From the outside, it’s not looking great. But I loved that walk so much. It was mostly cobblestone along Avenido Fransisco I. Madero and I saw groups of teens, adults, friends, lovers all at various stages of their weekends and the air smelled good ! I drank a litre of bottle, once again, and slept well.

Day 6, Sunday

I got breakfast with this girl named Ani from Germany and I got dinner with her in the same spot. She told me she does logistics for shipping sheep across the world in a small down in south of Germany. She has a labarador and he is very cute.

I wanted to have a chill day, especially after the last three days. I went to the Museo de Arte Popular and then to FrikiPlaza to get two volumes of Slam Dunk in Spanish. I checked out. I took the bus to Roma again and got a churro and Mexican hot chocolate in El Moro. Walked to Taqueria Orinoco and met up with Mamon. She told me she met her Spanish boyfriend while she was living in Spain and he was living in Paris. How whacky. I walked her to the bus station next to Chapultepec park and I went home.

My first day and evening in my new private bed room !!! I starfished on my bed and played music loudly, I opened the balcony doors and heard the corn man yell and yell until I dozed off.

Day 7, Monday

Having the feeling of I don’t wanna leave yet. Luckily, I didn’t have enough energy nor feel awake enough to feel sad about my last few days already. Without breakfast, I went into the white van that drove us to Teotihuacan and wore my new black linen top.

I’ve never seen any big pyramids and felt a lil enamored on sight. I mean, it’s just dirt and rocks, but also it was cool dirt and rocks, and old dirt and rocks, and dirt and rocks around which people got hella fucked up and celebrated and sacrificed and prayed. Our tour guid was really good.

There were these insistent vendors selling whistles that made a noise like a jaguar or a big predator bird. I got an obsidian necklace with a depiction of the eclipse. I also got some ancient chipped clay pieces and obsidian shards I found on the ground.

On our way out, I grabbed the cactus fruit tuna (prickly pear fruit) because our guide said it was edible and that the fruit water tasted really good. Bro, when I say my fingers and hands immediately got covered in tiny thorns. I ripped it open and ate the bright red flesh inside and yah ! I was running my hands through my hair for the rest of the day to dislodge the lil spurs from my fingers. Fruit was so good and juicy though.

Day 8, Tuesday

Woke up from an extremely rested evening though I was falling asleep reading fanfiction. I showered and still felt like 5 or 6 cactus spurs digging so small, miniscule, into not just my fingers but they’ve migrated to various parts of my body. I’m confident they’ll come out, my skin is thick enough for that at least, I know. Upstairs I gave a few people directions for morning yoga which happens at 8am.

I sat at a four person table and saw Becka walking in and she sat down. She’s meeting with her group today and they will travel together through Mexico. Then Ani waked in and then Emily walked in.

I feel like I’m in this weird floaty space whenever I think about my job, lack thereof, or my ‘career’ a word that makes me wanna throw up for reasons I know I’ll have to eventually face. I literally have not met another software engineer on this trip and I cannot express how relieving that is. I’d say I don’t know why but I suspect it’s because I feel like most of the people I’m in touch with since college are in tech in some way and I feel overly saturated with the same kind of rhetoric. Oh it sucks, it’s boring, but it pays well, it’s interesting sometimes, I’m glad to have this skillset. It’s also a very New York City thing too, like you need to be making that kind of bank to stay in the city. And you love the city. No, you love the city, d’you understand?

The reaction people have to me saying I’m from New York is typically like ‘Wow, that’s my dream, that’s everyone’s dream!’ and ‘Oh damn, I couldn’t do it, I couldn’t make it, too much in my head. Plus rent!’

But you love New York, y’know.

But why? I was not even happy with how I spent so much of this past professional year of my life there (working remotely for Canadian company).

Here’s a list of things people told me they do:

• Logistics for shipping sheep internationally
• Working at the French embassy to put on cultural events
• A geographer to help the city plan roads better (or not build roads at all)
• Speech therapist
• Doctor (emergency and urgent care) in Perth, Australia
• Owns company
• Owns companies
• Hotel manager after immigrating here
• Sales consultant
• On 4th gap year after high school

Hearing all this did something to my brain, there’s new wrinkles in there.

I went to Mercado de Artesanías La Ciudadela with Ani after breakfast and got a buncha stuff! We took a break in the park (Parque de la Cuidadela) and I started drawing Angel de los Aviadores and invited Ani to join me. We exchanged lil watercolor paintings. I loved it.

We went back in and I finally found the scarves I was looking for ! I also bought a tiny packet of Loteria with 6 boards. Ani and I ended up separating because she wanted to shop more and didn’t want to eat street tacos. I was desperate to try Ricos Tacos Toluca and ahhhhh they were so good ! I had the chorizo verde and chorizo habanero con queso and it was 74 pesos and I squeezed three slices of lime and ate my last few bites with spicy guacamole salsa. I kept tearing up on my walk back to the hostel because of how happy I was. I was so satisfied and so elated to have gotten to try that spot and how delicious it was and the feelings of gratitude and happiness, for some reason, felt like they were going to leap out of my chest.

I couldn’t stop crying thinking about going home. I’ll miss my time here. I feel so overwhelmed and afraid, a bit, that I will go back to feeling more lonely in New York than in my one week here. I did not expect this. I have to be brave and I want to throw a fit about it.

And then devastating news that Puppycat peed on the daybed. Ha ! The way that lil man has me in a psychic grip.

Day 9 Oct 11 Wednesday

I woke up early. Everything I did, I narrated in my head, ah yes, my last. My last morning poop, my last shower, my last moisturizing, my last gathering-my-hair-from-the-tiles-and-throwing-it-away. I took the Metrobus 4 line to Juarez and then the Metrobus 2 line to Jardin Pushkin. It was crowded and I was squished like a sardine into the throngs of other women in the pink car of the bus.

I walked to Rosetta Panaderia and ordered a latte and the guava roll. This was something that Marie from Nayak was telling me about on Monday on the ride back from Teotihuacan. I so desperately wanted to take a lil nap but this lady wanted to keep chatting and I actually didn’t mind. She said that this bakery was good and I made it a point to go before my flight. I shoveled the guava roll down my mouth and gulped the latte down, I don’t know why I was rushing. My flight was over 6 hours away. But the sense of urgency, the hectic speed of a morning in the city, the feeling that there’s something to be done somewhere, somewhere to go was settling into my bones already.

Bus back to the hostel, packed my bags, and off I was to the airport. Goodbye, I love you !!!

So I looked up some tutorials and found it was fairly easy and straightforward to bind your own books and make your own watercolor sketchbook.

The first one I made below was with synthetic black thread and I used three signatures of three folios. It was a combination of some techniques and stitches apparently.

I liked being able to mess around in the first one I made, especially because I realized there is very much a ‘smooth’ side and a ‘rough’ side to these sheets and the ‘rough’ one definitely holds water better.

The second one with the golden waxed linen thread was using a French link stitch and I’m pretty happy with how it turned out. I ended up using 6 signatures with a folio in each because these are thick papers and it seemed like it will fight me the least with laying flat this way. I’m excited to fill it up.

Genevieve is helping me declutter my space and making my apartment feel more like a home I inhabit. I don’t know how much longer I have to live here though. Angel and Vyczie might move out by this fall which I’m bummed about. They’re so fun and lively to have around.

Ekemini and I lost the doubles tournament against these two tall older white ladies. We both learned a lot from it, I think, but we were both also kinda disappointed.

I’ve been eating a lot of taiyaki sweets from the Family Mart, they’re so good, I’ve tried the azuki beans, matcha, and custard flavors so far. I made cabbage soup today, but I forgot I didn’t have garlic, onions, or tomato paste, so I used gochujang and a buncha onion powder, dried oregano, potatoes, carrots, celery, and a cilantro bunch that didn’t go slimey in the back of my fridge yet, and the juice from a whole lemon. It slapped, I ate it while watching the episode of One Piece where Luffy, Kidd and Law all fight the navy after rescuing Camie. I’m glad I finally met Law.

Duolingo owl wants my head for the number of times I’ve broken my streak. I do need to brush up on my Spanish before my CDMX trip though. I’m still pretty excited for it.

I killed two big ass flies in my apartment today. No idea where they came from.

Puppycat is sleeping on my MELON BOY bag that I took with me to Flame Con. Smelling it all.

you can also say that about tennis, basketball, maybe volleyball. i have not played a challenging tennis match in weeks. it’s making me long to have my butt kicked just so i feel something.

i want to spend all day, every single day, playing some random ball sport in the sun, drink ice cold gatorade-diluted water in the shade, eat a really fat breakfast burrito, then take my sweaty sticky ass home to take a cold shower and eat a second dinner and play fire emblem 3 houses all evening. every summer day should be like this, i’m fully serious

aside from the very real reactionary opinions of those who have been writing or making art for a long time especially amdist this insane cultural and economic swing, something feels missing. like of course, someone worked real hard to learn color theory and spent countless hours practicing hand eye brain coordination to draw or render the perfect piece and it’s disheartening to see something like that created in under minutes all while ripping off and discrediting the works it derives from.

but also there’s a market for this so of course this the turn things are going to take. of course company X and brand Y want a quickly spun up series of pintrest boards or concept art for the latest ad campaign or make up line design. of course some horny bastard who doesn’t want to read 3 1000 page volumes of high furry fantasy novel series if he can just bust a nut in under a minute to boobs boobing boobily in the exact way he knows he wants.

but there has always been value in that insanely long novel series and in the super detailed final fantasy vii fanart. it was just not as profitable and that’s undervalued

and i feel crazy cuckoo angry because i feel this desperate need to make art, for everyone to spend a significant amount of their time, concerted effort into making art, destroying it, showing no one and making some more, and maybe this time sharing a bit of it with someone, then destroying it again

the barrier to entry to draw on a piece of paper sometimes feels like i’m choking on 14 saltines and i hate the creeping feeling of dread and guilt when i don’t enjoy a book 24% into it and have to decide if i DNF or ‘power through’ and i hate looking at my phone, i hate looking at my phone

I finished listening to the audiobook of The Shadow of Kyoshi by F.C. Yee today. I was kind of bored by the premise of Kyoshi having to make peace between fire nation clans and all that but I did enjoy her finally getting to meet Kuruk. I think what blew me away and is prompting me to even review this like this is the final battle with Yun. Yun basically tells Kyoshi that he could kill all the people who looked up to him as the avatar and talks about how avatarhood is a curse. And in that moment, I was like, right on Yun, it kind of is. Especially for his story since the possibility of him being the avatar gave him a better life and he did prove himself with his earth bending and prowess as a tactician and dipolomat. So for Kyoshi to get this “pride” out of nowhere for being the avatar felt sooooo out of place. It just got straight up corny from there. I mean, I’m reading a book from the A;TLA universe, I should expect this but I was also a bit disappointed. I hated that Kyoshi said sorry to Yun and then immediately docked him. The power of friendship and a badass group like the Opera Company joining her last minute I– brah

I liked the final bit explaining why Kuruk had to deal so much with the spirit world bullshit as a result of Yangcheng’s reign. But that’s it! Kind of a flop, but I enjoyed the ride.

>:)

my knees hurt ! i haven’t lifted in what feels like over a month, but i know my quads are begging for attention to help cushion all that impact

i have nona the ninth and i read I Hear the Sunspot and I Hear the Sunspot: Theory of Happiness, but i mistakenly got I Hear the Sunspot: Limit vol 3, thinking that it was the third in the whole overall series, but no it’s the third in the Limit series which is its own thing. it’s cute so far !

i’m almost done with carmilla, it’s pretty intriguing. the way they wrote back in the 1800s is so wild, two girls will be like ‘But to die as lovers may - to die together, so that they may live together.` and ‘I have been in love with no one, and never shall, unless it should be with you.’ and the adults in the book are like ‘haha ! what fun the girls are having as friends and companions ! girlhood !’ very romantic though :")

i made lourdes laugh for like 4 whole minutes the other day, she had to take a moment to collect herself. i said ‘I’ve been thinking about how you said you cannot rationalize love and it made me uncomfortable but it also made me a bit more empathetic because instead of being judgemental, I can be like “Oh of course you’re doing stupid things, you’re in love and it makes you do stupid things.” i think it was the blunt way i said that made her laugh. it is both exciting and unnerving to know that there’s always more to learn

♡ in Moonstruck (1987) starring cher and nic cage, loretta (cher’s character) is sending off johnny cammareri to sicily at jfk, and there’s this old witchy looking woman who’s like “I put a curse on that plane!” because her sister slept with her man and she’s on that plane, and she’s going on for a while in this scene, and after all that, loretta (cher’s character), without a beat, says “I don’t believe in curses” and the woman, after, let’s say, a quarter of a beat, says “Ehe, neither do I.” and they both go back to minding their own business. that was such a rose (olympia dukakis’ character, loretta’s mom) move because they both know themselves. anyway, i would love some of that

♡ no one knows what they’re doing. everyone can only help others or me as much as they can help themselves or i can help myself, or they allow themselves to be helped by each other, or i allow myself to be helped by them

♡ i love my mom.

♡ in the same way a blank paper is really scary, so is every conscious moment of knowing that i have the power to create

♡ bugs are still so scary and cool and scary cool. there are gonna be so many in april and may.

♡ lifting, tennis, swimming, running, basketball, volleyball, an opportunity to go on a walk, they’re all a gift. being able to squat without my heels lifting off the ground and breathing into the insane tightness in my tibialis anterior and being able to wiggle my toes nonetheless- is a gift

♡ rust is fun. i still don’t know why system programming languages feel more intuitive to learn, but i think that’s fine. i’m so happy i can learn.

finding it hard to take my own advice. if i asked myself for help, i would have all the words and insight and perspective and yet none of those things can grab my face and squish it so i grit my teeth and steel myself and push my body through it, not around, but through

the malaise is getting old and boring. that is good ! goooood

:'(

at least i have puppycat, at least the folks downstairs are gonna bring me tea since i ran out, at least i know the tried and true ways to feel better whenever i get sick anyway, though i did just eat a half packet of flaming hot cheetos, all my phlegm is clear, and i’m on my 6th bob’s burger episode

my Mirror dvd copy is many days overdue, i have Bound and On The Beach at Night Alone copies are waiting for me. i still haven’t read the 3 volumes of Blue Period that i borrowed either.

but you know what i have read? Under Grand Hotel, baby B~)

anyway. pass the yaoi cocaine !!!

objectively, it’s a baseless fear and a big part of my dissatisfaction with twitter how i was engaging with it. like, fandom twitter has been absolutely great and same twitters for specific interests. i think it started feeling absolutely yucked up when it became an ego thing or a comedian thing. when i was catching myself thinking shit like ‘oh that’d be a great tweet’ or being linked to twitter threads when asking people how they were doing lately. truly the most cursed time, not a single thing of actual value being said both online and in real life. also when it became like so precious to tweet a normal thing. like saving random nothings in drafts and posting strategically or being overly cautious about crafting the perfect tweet because you couldn’t edit it and the delivery wouldn’t land if there was a typo. like, huh !!! and i would see this come out from within me in the real world and also by people around me and it became soooooooooooooooooooo boring. bowwing :3

anyway. happy to be off main for a great few months, happy to be off the other cursed video app for a great few weeks. happy to be off stimulants in general, happy to eat a meal and chew it and swallow with less air and more taste

the hopes and dreams and ~ intentions ~ i have for each upcoming season are beginning to feel stale. or hollow, like i’m just saying to say or thinking to think.

maybe it’s because i watched annihilation (2018) and then proceeded to read the plot summaries of the southern reach trilogy but josie was right, you don’t have to fight or face it.

like, literally, there is nothing to look forward to, it’s all, like, literally, right now

eventually the temperatures will drop and the dew point will continue to get lower and lower and i will wear thermals under my sweatpants and waterproof shoes and my big winter jacket but i’ll also probably see even more stars and constellations and various phases of the moon

cool !!!

the third and most recent was tonight, not even 5 minutes ago after i came home from dropping dinner off for a friend. (btw, i did citibike back, and it was less than 10 mins but i once again was on a NON WORKING electric bike and those mfs are harder to pedal when they don’t work than regular bikes !!! anyway.) i went to feed puppycat and saw in the pothos plant next to the sink (because i had watered it in there earlier this afternoon) a house centipede just chilling.

i somehow managed to get pretty close and saw its face - luckily it was facing me - and it was munching on something, probably fruit flies. yum !!! its many (healthy!) long spread out legs didn’t scare me or shock me, i was easily able to find its eyes (or eye like things) and mandibles and it was so actively chewing i couldn’t help but root for it. i tried to blow on it and nudge the pot but it was staying pretty put ! finally puppycat yanked me out of my trance so i could finally feed him and when i went back, i was, idk, kinda scared ??? of just letting it be, because i’m afraid that if it moves and i see it on a wall, i’ll get spooked. which is crazy bc i’ve been spooked before and i’ve gotten so up close to it, how could it scare me again, y’know? but i’m not a bug fear expert so i placed the pot right outside my front door and am hoping that it finds other delicious meals within these ancient ass, damp ass walls

gotta call the landlord to get the leak fixed. gotta pour bleach down the drain for maintenance.

i feel pretty happy about this encounter !

my immediate reaction was to get it to pop over on my index finger but i was like ok wait, lemme check who you are first. i uploaded the second pic to iNaturalist and started hitting the wall¹.

i got an ID, like, 43 minutes later and it turns out it’s a blue-eyed ensign wasp. like huh???

Evania appendigaster is a species of wasp in the family Evaniidae, the ensign wasps. Its native range is not known, but it likely originated in Asia. Today it occurs throughout the tropics and subtropics and in many temperate regions. It is a parasitoid wasp known for specializing on cockroaches.

first of all, parasitoid? mostly i think that’s just a fabulous word because i’m not, idk, a biologist. it’s basically a wasp that lays its eggs in other bug-type creatures² until they die³. fabulous ! and this guy ??? specializing in cockroaches??? here in new new york city, baby !!!

this was a cute find and a fun internet spiral to follow :~) idk if i’ll ever not be Scared Of Bugs, but reading these few webpages is doing something to my brain and that something is a net positive, i’m sure

1. i wake up at 4:30, stretch, open the windows. it’s fucking dark. that’s fine
2. say hi to puppycat, give him a little stretch
3. go on my phone, scroll anime twitter, scroll tumblr, peep any DMs from ln
4. PRE-WORKOUT
5. 5:00-6:00 gym, it’s upper body day >:)
6. 6:05 bike to the tennis courts, practice serves for like a half hour. maybe play pick up if there are people around
7. 7:00, feed puppycat, finish owyn vanilla protein drink, shower
8. 7:30ish - go to the diner, get the scrambled eggs, turkey sausage, home fries, rye bread with butter, NO COFFEE
9. 8:30, pay, leave, stand on that trigger point ball, look at email, answer time sensitive texts
10. pick up things that aren’t in their place and put them away. lie down in bed (not the same way i sleep) with my arms up, i should be catching the tiniest bit of eastern sun through the sheer curtains. nap time !!!
11. wake up, think about lunch for no longer than 20 minutes. lunch with a friend? SALAD SPINNER SALAD? decide on deli sandwich as last resort (turkey, provolone, lettuce, tomato, mayo, jalapeno on a roll), always always always with the zero sugar peach tea or lemonade snapple. REMEMBER TO READ THE FACTS IN THE CAP
12. probably afternoon now, like 13:00 or 14:00 (or 15:00) try to read something. no stress if it doesn’t happen, still literate, still enjoy stories
13. draw people and clothing, make it ugly as hell. maybe play basketball
14. think about how i’m going to watch the sunset
15. look at sky to try and predict what kind of sunset. prediction is irrelevant
16. it’s breezy outside though, so cottons + linens + pink walking sneakers + comfy bag with things i need, might need, don’t need but feel better having anyway
17. 17:00 - ok so a bit too early for sunset, but no air pods means cackles from the kids playing in the playground or in the grass. bro, what are they laughing about??? i dunno, but i was probably doing the same thing the last time i played tag or got high with a friend. it’s cute tho, i’m glad they’re having fun
18. sit on an empty bench, time yourself, now do nothing but chill and look at the water. it’s the best day ever so you make it to 11minutes
19. SUNSET !!!
20. it’s kinda abrupt and cut off bc of r**sevelt island but that’s okay. the sun is still setting, still watching it happen
21. bike back home, inspect bug bites. it’s dark and night time but it’s still lively on the sidewalks
22. dinner. time spent thinking about it? not even 10mins, baybeeeeeee the meal is sandwiched between two dark chocolate double stuffed milano cookies and one ripe mango cut into cubes
23. eat dinner together with puppycat, watch an episode of stone ocean
24. remember how desperately i wanted a rug, thank god i didn’t buy one
25. WASH. ALL. DISHES
26. 20:00 pre-bed time !!! i’m drawing a centipede
27. 21:30 in bed, cozy, the fan is running, the windows aren’t shut tight but definitely closed, puppycat is going back and forth between hanging out and finishing his dinner, i do whatever i want until i sleep :~)

1. when i went to south florida earlier this spring, i was waiting for a friend to come back from the restroom at a barnes and noble we ducked into on my last evening there. i was flipping through the few big coffee table type books that were showcased, thick, hardcover, glossy pages. i started with architecture ones but then saw one about a photographer who followed a few mountain climbers as they scaled up k2. it looked crazy, they were in these sling tent things that looked like hammocks (portaledge? hanging tents? vertical camping? –> quick google search). they were great photos. lots of pics of the three dudes in their bright colored (yellow, orange, blue?) coats and goggles and beanies. there were few captions but most of it was the photographer talking about how much of a beast the main climber was. i spent probably, like, not even 5 minutes looking through that photo book but it definitely stuck with me

2. someone on one of my anime twits just finished and the screencaps she posted looked gorgeous

3. my favorite part of the left hand of darkness was genly ai’s and estraven’s 840 mile journey across a wintery, harsh, unforgiving landscape

maybe it’s just the icy bits that really do it for me. but also, where i am currently in the manga, mori stayed back with nimi to die together. actually, mori witnessed a whole buncha people dying. so, again, not very much of the left hand of darkness here.

but you know what is very the left hand of darkness? when genly watches estraven ski down toward orgoreyn and is killed and either remembers or communicates with estraven over mindspeech one last time. i don’t remember which because i was too busy crying on a bench at astoria park right before a tennis match when i read that scene. anyway, in pacific rim (2013) raleigh becket also had to witness his brother yancy die while they were still drifting. meaning that he felt his brother’s pain, thoughts, feelings and everything during his dying moments as if they were his own.

anyway, i’m thinking about all three of these stories a lot, and feel absolutely So Normal about all of it

ingredients:

• small, sweet tomatoes. can be those that are off the vine, cherry, grape, campari, whichever. but you should be able to hold only, like, two comfortably in one hand, and they should be sweet
• olive oil
• salt
• pepper
• white wine vinegar

instructions:

• first wash the tomatoes in a medium size bowl
• use a knife to cut them in half or quarters depending on the size of the tomatoes and your preference
• after they’re rinsed and cut, a pinch of salt over the tomatoes in that same bowl. toss them with a spoon or your hands, idc it’s your house, and set the bowl aside
• now. you gotta do something. something you’ve been putting off but only takes like 15 minutes. like feeding your cat, or calling your mom to tell her about the breakfast tomatoes you’re making, or sending a picture of something you took yesterday to your aunt you no longer talk to as much, or opening that internet bill and seeing the same shit that’s on your e-bill but deciding that you can comfortably throw away that piece of mail because you know there’s nothing terribly important in it because you’ve opened it, putting away the various bottles of chili limon that are on various surfaces around the house, taking a damp rag and wiping every individual blind in the living windows. gross huh. yeah. maybe just go for a walk around the block but take the other way around or walk on the other sidewalk this time
• after doing something, check on your tomato bowl. there’s probably a buncha water in there that’s been drawn out by the salt. if there isn’t, congratulations on having the most banger tomatoes. regardless, toss out the excess water (or if you wanna be a purist about this, put the tomatoes in a new, dry bowl entirely)
• add, like, a buncha olive oil, some cracked pepper, and two-ish splashes of white wine vinegar. you can figure out the ratios. what’s important is making sure you’re coating all the tomatoes in this fun italian liquid bath
• eat a tomato piece. add salt if it’s a lil too bland, more vinegar if it’s not tangy enough. you know the drill
• after you’re satisfied with the taste, add the tomatoes to a plate with the rest of your breakfast. maybe two fried eggs with a barely set yolk, a generous scoop of rice, half an avocado, and a pink glass of cool water.

there you go, breakfast tomatoes.

i will say, it’s tough as fuck, super lemon-y, and definitely cooked B~)

bro, this is the kind of cooked meat that belongs on a fried meme. it’s almost fully pale barely yellowish and golden from the light frying i did and mostly helped by the butter (shouts to butter)

forcing myself to do something i don’t want to while i’m so angry or sad is also delightfully funny because. like. what, is this raw chicken going to kill me ? because it feels so uughsdghghugghwwegu gross on my hands and fingers and ughghg i gotta cut around the fat and the veiny bits bc i hate hate hate when i bite into them ? is this raw chicken going to murder me ? or what, i forget to wash my hands and the ghost of meaty residuals on my one singular chef’s knife that i currently own is going to somehow give me salmonella ? like, ofc not dude, so i will begrudgingly cook this stupid meat in the worst way possible because i have to !!! no more games, i gotta eat bitch !

the past few days i’ve been learning about pushers in tennis. why? because i keep losing matches that ‘i don’t think i should be losing’ and googled this shit and it turns out, i earned that loss and also this reality check ; - ;

things that don’t win points:

• style
• speed
• athleticism
• being hot
• sound mind
• power
• experience

things that win points:

• keeping the ball in play longer than your opponent

pushers are tennis players who keep the ball in play no matter what, and often, without any of the things that don’t win points. me, being a flashy player with a punch behind my strokes… ya ya ya exactly, exactly. turns out that i didn’t (don’t?) respect pushers but i’m kinda realizing how delusional that is in a competitive setting. like of course you don’t win as many points with passing shots / winners / aces. of course if i think that those are the only shots involved in any winning strategy that’s going to pile on the pressure to only have those plays and not work on consistency or patience.

i’m kind of in awe of pushers now tbh. the war of attrition type of game they play is no joke. i kinda wanna take that game and run with it, like, irl i mean. off the court

but i get it tbh it’s the only comfy place in this room where i work and he wants to just hang out <3 stupid ass….MY stupid ass<3

i think i’m close to the goals / nye ‘resolutions’ i set for myself last year but as always, the feeling of it is unexpected. it feels slow and, like, foggy waters, like, it’s clear in the general direction but the details are blurry. oh, like swimming without goggles on and you’re in a lane with people behind you so you gotta go to the end of the pool but it’s just annoying to see just, like, a blue blur below you.

the vine that’s like ‘i know something you don’ttt i know something you will never knowww’ i continue to be in awe of how easy it feels to actually meet new people when i do. i think everyone’s a lil desperate to practice expressing themselves with no consequences, be polite and kind, offer lil nuggets of information or wisdom that i’ll be thinking or writing about for a while. like this dude who i bought this cherry wood table from. it’s kinda beat up and has a scratch on the surface that i have no idea how i’m gonna fix up but- it’s a hitchcock, it has these nice legs with feet that point outward and curves and gold leaf details on the four corners. the dude and his gf helped carry it up, and he said that he’s had it for a while and that his parents had it when they first met. so that’s what, like, 50+ years ago? bananas. then he said welcome to the neighborhood, to visit, and that he liked my evangelion pants. honestly, this was a very normal-core interaction but it’s left an impression on me and i will run with that !

god, puppycat’s grooming his lil paws, ofc they’re dirty you stinky cat !!! hhghhdshhhg

my windows are open and it’s cooler today and also a lil breezy so the sheer curtains are billowing gently. these windows are east facing (mostly) so when the sun sets it feels like a surprise every time because it’s so quick

ugh, i still can’t believe i lost to my opponent today (both of us ~3.75 ntrp) >:( aside from the mental game jostling about, so many of the points i lost were because of double faults and other unforced errors. insane how tennis is a pretty easy barometer to check where i’m at both physically and mentally. but maybe that’s just any physical activity that requires some thinking but make it competitive.

i love all my winners though. i love you super fast forehand down the line, i love you flat serve (ace) that hit the corner of the ad out service line, i love you sharply angled volley at the net, smooch smooch smooch

i washed the dishes earlier. i still need to clean my oven, the broiler, the kitchen windows, the bathroom tiles, the bathroom lower cabinet, on and on and on

now john coltrane is singing you are too beautiful. i didn’t know that he only has one vocal album and that that was with johnny hartman

anyway the dream also was about this rando girl from middle school who had a similar name to the 4.5 lv opponent. big O_o moment