Emchap's Shit from the Internet 08/4/21 š
Though most of my possessions are still in transit somewhere, my condo does now have in it a couch, a cat tower, a dining set, and a bedframe, which is making it feel at least a little bit more like a home than it did when I moved in on Friday. (It is also full of collapsed cardboard boxes that Iām just refusing to deal with, but you know.) The horrible heatwave I was worried about happening hasnāt come (or has stayed at a gentle 90 degrees), and it turns out my apartment is well-situated to catch breezes; unlike my last place, the insulation of a basement below me and several floors above seems to mean that my apartment stays mostly pretty cool absent something truly awful happening with the weather. (Which is no doubt coming, but is at least not happening right now.)
Now that Iām settled in (or at least as settled in as I can get until the rest of my possessions show up), Iām having the small horrible letdown of some big occupying Event wrapping up. My brain, the last six months, has been entirely focused on this: crossing my savings goal for my downpayment, beginning the remote house hunt, going through all the paperwork to buy the place and then find movers and trash haulers and house cleaners and all the rest. Now Iām just back to my normal life, more or less, with less money than I started with.
And of course this always happens when moving; I remember the feeling of my first few weeks in LA, which were very lonely until they werenāt. But where a month ago I thought that by the time I moved up here, Iād be back to at least some semblance of what normal will likely be here for the next few years (it canāt be forever, I keep muttering to myself), right now Iām back to feeling anxious around others and worrying about the new variants and angry once again at other people and the state. The things I love doing most in the world require either friends (all currently far away in other cities or themselves overwhelmed or out of town or working in healthcare etc etc etc) or sitting inside at bars (anxiety-producing right now) and I am so angry at this whole situation. I want my life back and my life hasnāt even been significantly interrupted compared to most folks.
Even pre-pandemic, I would often catch myself being homesick for something that doesnāt exist anymore; my Mom is dead and my dad doesnāt live anywhere I grew up and my friends have all moved away from home. There is nothing I can go back to the way I want to. And Iām used to that happening when Iām in a self-pitying mood or am sad or lonely or otherwise wish for being the center of someoneās attention; Iām used to knowing that at least thereās a clear reason for the desire for this non-thing, even if not a resolution. With seemingly no end in sight to Covid and climate change now, Iām worried that my whole life is about to become one gigantic version of that indefinitely. How does one meet new people or get to know a city or live some sort of non-depressing life under circumstances in which once again other people are all possible contagion vectors?
Shit to read
A story in which both Caroline Calloway and Cat Marnell make an appearance.
I thought this discussion of the āwhite lady gentrifies congeeā thing and how our media conversations about appropriation miss the point was really good.
Burn the American gymnastics apparatus to the ground, but before that happens stop building the program around adolescent girls just because theyāre less likely to self-advocate.
Very unclear what Oprah Daily is, but I liked this interview with Lucy Dacus.
An explainer of the Real Housewives legal drama for those who like me wanted one.
Big Summer, by Jennifer Weiner, which was a summer book designed for me specifically. (It features a fat lady instagram influencer and a murder and a bunch of great musings on a particular female friendship dynamic that Iāve absolutely been a part of before.)
Shit to eat
After making your eggs taste like metal somehow though a cast iron incident, throw them away and try to avoid puking in the sink.
Scoop some greek yogurt into a bowl.
Cut up a nectarine, badly, and toss it on there.
Drizzle with honey.
Start eating that for breakfast, tainted as the eggs now are with memories.
Shit to watch
Secret Base is doing a documentary on the Falcons. (Their Mariners documentary made me care about the Mariners when that had previously never been on my radar as an option; 17776 and its sequel made me cry about robots and also football.)
Shit to buy
If anyone is so inclined to buy things for my house, I am registered here. If you are not, honestly, fair.
I have now bought this cat tree twice, and recommend it for ease of installation/the amount that my cat just lived on it for a while. (Heās currently abandoned it for the window seat in the new place.) Itās as inoffensively ugly as itās possible for a cat tree to be.
I now live near a bubble tea place and recommend that everyone else buy some bubble tea. Itās very good.