Emchap's Shit from the Internet 11/27/19 🍠
I have spent much of the last two days in a Tacoma driving down the west coast, which is really not a place I would have anticipated finding myself at the beginning of the year, but which has been a pleasant turn of events. The drive (completed in two days, one of them something like 17 hours through and powered by Game Fuel* and a possibly ill-advised gas station gyro, good lord) was the midpoint of a long and goofy Thanksgiving trip that started in Portland and has Somewhat Expanded.
The trip overall has been lovely, but the drive in particular was pretty mindblowing—I saw wild elk and deer and various waterfowl, and twenty foot tall sprays coming off the Pacific, and about eight million beautiful beaches, and also the Milky Way (shoutout rural Oregon for that one) and the redwoods (a pleasant result of a "hey let's go check out that scenic detour that has a sign" whim, which fucking ruled, I see now why we have written songs about them).
I also got to learn of California's somewhat lackidasical approach to guardrailing its famed scenic highway, which led to a non-zero portion of the trip consisting of me staring fixedly away from the coast in order to avoid contemplating the slim line between myself and the void. (It was fine. I'm in my house. I did not die. The vide was not successful in its appel.)
The rest of the trip has been a lovely reset in a personally difficult holiday season (did you know that getting drunk in a zoo is good, actually?), and I am excited to cap it off with the truly ridiculous sum of food that's currently being prepped in my fridge. (Thanksgiving for two and Thanksgiving for eight are basically the same amount of food, if you believe in yourself and don't care about making your rental kitchen ridiculous.) I have even gotten a break from LA's nonsensical winter weather in the form of some appropriately cozy autumnal rains.
2019's been a weird year, but mostly a good one; I hope that those who celebrate assorted sundry holidays have an easy time of them. Here's hoping December throws no unpleasant curveballs.
* The red flavor is good. The yellow flavor is hateful.
Shit to read
I really enjoyed this look at what in sustainable fashion is the actual necessities of the concept versus what is luxury fashion marketing.
I am so old and so tired.
This is an excellent look at why ketamine has become an appealing drug to people in my age group and is a hysterical photo choice, well done The Cut.
Inject this review of Lauren Duca's book into my veins.
Shit to eat
Agree to go on a mutiday roadtrip as part of a week-long vacation with someone who you have gone on, charitably, two dates with.
Notice that they are for some godforsaken reason consuming something called Game Fuel (more properly, MTN DEW® AMP® GAME FUEL®).
Humor them when offered the nominally cherry flavored option. It's fine. Sort of tastes like an icee that's been melted down and then injected with pubescent unhappiness.
Realize that a) the can is resealable for some fucking reason b) every time you unseal it it spits horrible GAME FUEL® juice onto you, making you slightly sticky and perhaps leaving you with a higher cancer risk than you started out with.
When they pick up a new flavor of GAME FUEL® and do not offer it to you, saucily take a sip in order to wet your mouth after an intense cheeze-it experience.
Realize that they didn't offer it to you because this new flavor of GAME FUEL® (charitably described as "yellow") tastes like motor oil drained out of a car that is mad at you, personally, and also has now doused your hands in its horrible gamer juices.
Do not learn your lesson. Drink it six more times in the next hour before finally giving up.
Shit to listen to
Shit to buy
Wildfang is having a sale! Size up in the coveralls.
Abuelita, now in significantly less pain-in-the-ass-to-make forms.