Normally in this newsletter I write about five things that I’ve been pondering on during the week. But today is different! Blame it on eclipse season! Or the fact that I do what I want! Or nothing idk! Thanks for reading along, anyway. 🫶
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Welcome to my Weekly R.E.P.O.R.T. If you’re not familiar with the TikTok trend it’s where you list out what you’re reading, eating, playing, obsessing, recommending, and treating yourself to each week. Kind of akin to a five things, but different and a little less deep. Because I’ll be honest! Idk if it’s the moon or Venus moving into Virgo or just ✨life✨ but I’m feeling a little exposed. Pretty sensitive. And honestly raw.
Yesterday, I wrote an entire essay about how much I’m struggling with being perceived right now. Which when I publicly write essentially a journal entry every week is ironic, I get it! But upon rereading it last night I just am not there yet. It’s not something I’m ready to process even minutely publicly. After almost a decade of mining both my own extremely personal experiences and those of others for cOnTeNt, I really see the value in keeping some things to myself these days. In not hitting publish when I can feel the hesitation behind doing so.
So we’re keeping it more surface level right now. A little lighter. The opposite of Lindsay Lohan and a little less personal, iykyk. I’m sure I’ll be back to crying about whales and hope and exposure therapy soon. And this is probably still personal, let’s be real.
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Reading
The 7 ½ Deaths of Evelyn Hardcastle
I am firmly planted in my reading era. And it feels good.
Since August I’ve read 16 books. That might not be that many to some, and that might be insane to others. To me it just feels good. Like I’ve reopened and revisited and reintroduced a significant part of myself to the world.
I had a weird childhood, to put it mildly. I’m an only child and I was put into situations where I was surrounded by only adults on multiple, multiple occasions. I lived in books. Books were my favorite thing. I would beg my parents to take me to Barnes and Noble where I’d park myself in an aisle and easy take down a full book in an hour. I had a library of Royal Diaries, historical fiction, horse fiction, and just paperback after paperback after paperback that I loved and treasured growing up.
Like so many young and then just adults this love of reading got pushed aside for a very, very long time. Whether it be because of time, finding other hobbies, or something in between, I don’t think I cracked a book for fun for almost 10 years. And as a book lover and lover of just acquiring information, that didn’t feel good! It felt simultaneously embarrassing and like I was a little bit of a liar.
So getting back to a place where I’m finishing a book or more per week? It feels good. It feels like I’m stretching a part of my brain that was bedridden for far too long. It feels like me. It feels like hanging out with my inner child at the Fargo Barnes and Noble, perfectly content to sit on the floor with a stack of books and a $4 drink from the cafe for several hours.
Anyway all of that to say, I’m currently reading the book above. My best-friend said that “everyone either loves it or hates it” and it’s “full of that feminine rage thing you love.” Sign me up!
Eating
Bowls of pasta with borderline too spicy sauce.
I am fully confident that if I were overseas I could easily be top 3 in The Great British Bakeoff. My pie dough recipe is perfection. My brown butter chocolate chip cookies are next level. I’ve never met a galette I didn’t love. I know my way around the kitchen, and I’m not going to try and be humble about it.
But somehow every time I make this spicy vodka sauce I always make it almost too spicy. Something about me and red pepper flakes—I just don’t know when to say when. It goes from having a little kick to making my lips go numb. And because I am who I am, I would rather suffer than risk having the sauce not be spicy enough.
It is Fall, though. The temperatures have finally dipped below 70 and I don’t feel the need to have fans going at all times. It’s sweatshirt, multiple duvet, and fuzzy sock season. Which also means it’s soup season and comfort food season. And if your bowl of pasta is spicy enough you literally feel warmed from the inside out, that’s probably not the worst thing that can happen to you.
Playing
The final chapters of Tears of the Kingdom (reluctantly).
I’m finally finishing this game after logging around 80 or so hours on it.
My reluctancy is because I know we won’t get another one for, like, 7 or more years. Maybe we’ll get a DLC but that’s not the same.
For someone who loves games, I’m actually kind of picky over what I’ll play. So not having a long, epic game to be excited about tackling is a little bit of a bummer. But I’ve done so much of it already it feels like that’s what is left to do. Take down The Demon King and watch the credits roll.
Idk maybe I’ll attempt to find all 1000 koroks after. That would probably take at least a few years.
Obsessing (Over)
The Fox News segment heard ‘round the internet.

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If you have not seen this full video I highly, highly implore you to go watch it because it is PNW gold.
I absolutely cannot stand the fear-mongering that comes with people talking about cities of which they do not live. Yes, living in downtown Seattle is inherently more “dangerous” than living off a side residential street of Missoula, Montana.
But actually! As someone who has lived in both!
I don’t feel like diving too deep into this because again, I’m feeling a little bit sensitive and I don’t want to. But I cannot help but assume anyone who lights themselves up about hypothetical crime and drug use while not actually living in the city they’re discussing is just virtue signaling. You know who also loves to abuse drugs? Millionaires with expensive cars and virtually no furniture in their house with wives who fuck the neighbors on the side. You know who shoplifts statistically the most? Middle aged white women who are bored. You know who was doing the bulk of the looting and rioting in Seattle in the protests downtown? It was white teenagers taking advantage of a situation to hopefully bust through a T-Mobile for fun.
The unhoused guy I see every evening outside of my local co-op is just looking for some food. And is apparently a vegetarian! Which is cool! Isn’t it interesting that even people who are going through something unfathomable are still, you know, people?
Idk just something to consider!!!
Recommending
It sounds so simple but Fresh Air™.
I’m so sorry to tell you this but 90% of your internalized problems are probably to do with being inside too much. And I am saying this as a to-her-core inside girl. Getting outside a little bit every day does WONDERS for your mental health. Just try it.
Here is what I would suggest:
Find a podcast or a new album you’re loving and queue it up. Put in or on headphones that don’t irritate your ears so you won’t be thinking about your ear drums while you’re walking and listening. Slip on a comfy walking shoe and a bike short and lather yourself in SPF.
Then just walk. Do the simplest thing in the world: put one foot in front of the other. Look at the houses you pass and imagine who lives inside. Critique their choice of house color and railing style and landscaping. Make a mental note of your favorites. Revisit them on more walks.
Walk until you feel done. Literally that is it. I don’t think you need a goal or a ring to close or an anything. Just walk until you feel like you’ve walked enough. Your body will know. You will know. And then keep doing it.
Treating (Myself To)
Pigtails, overalls, and little things that feel good.
I told my therapist on Friday that I feel completely dysregulated. There are a lot of things that feel like me (ie: reading, writing, watering plants, walking, doing my skincare routine) but a bigger percentage makes me feel like I am upside down. Like I am a hologram cosplaying as my actual self.
So I am trying to lean in to the things that bring me back. That make me feel present and here. That make me smile, even if it feel foreign. Even if in my almost-mid-thirties that feels childish. Or out of place. Or like I shouldn’t.
Because what SHOULD we do, anyway? Who made those rules? And why are we following them?
Maybe the point of all of this is to just do what feels right. I’m doing my best to find that. I hope you are too.
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