Weekly Missive 2.24

Barely reaches his wrists

Ah, another week. 

This one is written on a frosty morning in a beautiful cabin outside of Tannersville, NY, while the steaming cedar soaking tub waits for me. Sorry! Roy’s on his way back with coffee and cinnamon rolls so let’s make this quick. 

Hobbying: I worked a lot this week, so packing for this weekend was the singular extracurricular focus. 

This trip is Roy’s extravagant Valentine’s Day present to me. We’re in some sort of yurt? At Scribner’s Lodge. It’s been heaven. We have bopped around the town, gotten some good hiking, and thumbed novels in front of a fire. Golly, he’s the best. 

Dating: We took a trip up to Tannersville in autumn of last year and discovered this wonderful restaurant by googling “best restaurant Tannersville.” With the same approach, we found the same restaurant this year and were not sad to repeat. The food and service were wonderful. I got caught with a fainting spell at the end of the meal, humiliating. The staff was so nice about it. Bleh. 

Sweating: SNOW TUBING AND HIKING. 

Buying: I bought this magical jumpsuit and tracked its shipment progress every half hour. It will be my second horse-themed garment. Outrageous? Who’s to say? 

I am conscious that outfits I love, like this one, will be less celebrated in Kentucky compared to Bushwick. I hope that won’t change my approach to dressing myself. It will be a test of character. 

I also bought a vintage Jim Beam belt buckle to wow my coworkers on an upcoming work trip. 

I’m probably going to buy some candles and/or socks at a boutique this afternoon.

Eating: Roy cooked almost every meal that I ate this week. He knocked it all out of the park, then cleaned up after us. What a gent. The two highlights were a homemade pizza that set off our fire alarm seven times in a row and bangers with mustard mash. I realize I need to pay it forward, but I really enjoyed being treated in that way.

I also found time for lunch with a friend at Salty Lunch Lady, which ended in a lemon curd poppy seed cake. 

Drinking: Last Sunday, I had one too many at the deadly happy hour deal at Myrtle Pub (2X1 plus unlimited hot dogs). I was sick until Wednesday. I will not forget this soon. 

Listening: A new-to-me poetry podcast that makes me take a deep breath and smack my lips within six minutes.

Watching: I started Vanderpump Rules from its inception and have made laudable progress. What a time capsule! To situate, one of the women is trying to start a statement necklace company. 

There’s PROBLEMATIC consumption of all sorts. Was that a sign of the times? Did every young person chug vodka like that? Did I? (Literal gulp.) Will future generations pity us? The women all have tattoos they found on Tumblr. Where are those fine-line arrows pointing now?!?? Is this how we all lost the way?

I asked myself a lot of questions Monday-Wednesday in the throes of my hangover. These thoughts plagued me, and I felt itchier than one of Jax’s conquests.

Anyways, I desperately want this artwork of THE MAIN GUY. 

Ruminating on / Reading: THIS PROFILE OF TOM SANDOVAL IN THE NEW YORK TIMES has an absolute chokehold on me. I’ve sent this passage to everyone I know: 

“Sandoval began to perform loud vocal exercises. He applied pomade to his hair, combing it back with his fingers, and changed into a light blue women’s suit from Zara, which he said he preferred to the store’s men’s wear. The suit looked good, but the sleeves barely reached his wrists. As he emerged from the dressing room, there was something about the suit’s feminine cut combined with Sandoval’s physique and slightly hunched posture that reminded me of Heath Ledger’s Joker in the scene at the hospital where he wears a nurse’s uniform.”

There are other marvelous pull quotes, but WOW. What monsters have we created????

Cat: Back to our happy, fluffy, mischievous, curious selves this week. Here she is interfering with my squash sandwich from General Irving and Vanderpump confessional: