Oh, Hello Again

Or, sorry for ghosting you a little bit. 👻

I haven’t written almost anything in December and almost nothing in January. Which is extremely lol-able given that I had previously set a goal of finishing my novel by EOY and I am (checks notes) several thousands of words away from said goal. If you’re one of the people who regularly clicks on this you might have noticed the brief hiatus, but more than likely you did not as the never-ending wheel of content truly never does stop churning so there were inevitably a plethora of things for you to feast your glorious little eyeballs on during my stupid little leave of absence.

There is something I find so incredibly gauche about announcing a break from anything akin to social media via social media. Which is why this break was, to put it into other incredibly gauche terms, organic. When you have nothing substantial to say it is perfectly okay to go ahead and say nothing. More than okay, in fact! Preferred! Being quiet is free!!

I am not a person who looks forward to the new year. Be it the mental illness of it all or otherwise, this part of the year always feels extra heavy to me. I don’t vision board, I don’t love a resolution. I’ve been saying, “I’ll drink more water this year!!!” since 2017. I am still quite dehydrated, the cans littering my night stand are Diet Coke and Poppi, I will never stop lying to my doctor even though I know they can tell.

Breaking a habit is incredibly easy, even if you establish making it in the first place was a challenge. Finding the will to pick it back up again, for some reason, is somewhat more of a challenge.

In a lot of ways, writing comes naturally to me. Spinning a well-crafted sentence is something I can do while in REM. Ideating a punchy title is something I can practically sneeze out. My vocabulary is expansive and I can edit something in minutes. But in a lot of other ways, writing is the hardest thing I do. After literal years spent prioritizing the perfection of other people’s paragraphs above my own, putting my own ideas and stories and even just thoughts out there at times feels…not only so labor intensive but also so incredibly pointless. And of course when we live in continuous unprecedented time after unprecedented time it feels even more exhausting and superfluous, but I (as I often do) digress.

However all of this whining (I am nothing if not self-aware) aside, I made a commitment to both myself and this substack. I said I wanted to take steps (even baby ones) to reinvigorate the writing muscle in my fingertips and frontal cortex, and I did/do mean that. I want to make that happen. Even when it feels like the sky is falling down…cue the Jay Sean ft. Lil Wayne song.

I don’t have a ton I want to soapbox, rant, or even just muse about because in the words of Lil Wayne: “honestly, I'm down like the economy.” (Wow, evergreen.) But I do want to keep up this newsletter and if you’ve read all of these words that are essentially a way of talking in circles to say, “Shit was hard and I was sad so I took a break but I’m back,” I appreciate you. I promise to continue to try and hold myself accountable and continue to show up here. In whatever way that looks like.

And because I am not about to abandon this intended format after abandoning my “once a week” declaration for five weeks, I’ll leave you with five things that didn’t make me feel “down down down down down” as of late.

(Ok I’m done with the bit, I swear.)

1. This serum.

   

   I used to be quiiiiiiite obsessed with skincare. At one point I bragged about my $500 skincare routine. In fairness it was a pretty good routine but my skin…just doesn’t need that anymore. I’m really simple these days. Cleanser, AM serum, PM serum, Moisturizer, SPF. But I’ve been having fun exploring around Sephora and Ulta lately (partially in hunt of the notorious “10-year-olds in Ulta) and this serum I picked up the other week is really lovely. It’s a BIZARRE texture so if that weirds you out, maybe not for you. My super-dry, 30-something skin though is really into it. Plus the company is cool. And makes great hand soaps which I also recommend.

2. This Tweet

   

   I’d link appropriately but they deleted it. Ty god for screenshots.

   Shout out to my friend Ali for finding it.

3. Saltburn

   

I am not ashamed to say I have watched this four times since it was released on Prime the week of Christmas. Saltburn in the background is to me what I imagine the sounds of frogs and rain are for other people. The movie is absolutely brilliant and eye candy and weird and all of the things I gravitate towards with a story. I want to live in it. I have devoured every interview with Emerald Fennell about it I can find. I’ll probably watch it again tonight; I truly cannot get enough of it.

But most of all I love figuring out who is turned on by the vampire scene and who is aghast by it. If you are in the latter ily but (di)srespectfully: grow up.

4. This Candle

   

   I remember when Billie’s first fragrance got released in 2021 I was still working in beauty at the time and the CEO of the company I was at went on a TEAR because there was a rumor Billie made 7 million for the deal. Like was blowing up the company WhatsApp trying to get all of her employees to join her shit talking this perfume and this singer because that was so offensive for some reason. Why this was upsetting to her was beyond me. She did not a) make fragrances, b) have 7 million to offer a celeb, or c) have a brand that a celebrity of Billie’s level of fame would likely even blink at. There were a lot of weird days at that company, all thanks to that certifiably bat shit CEO.
   
   Anyway she was maybe the most despicable person I’ve even unfortunately encountered and I wish her nothing but the worst so now in protest of her that does nothing but satiate my own little baby grudge I support people I know she would hate to see someone supporting. Great candle, btw, genuinely.
   

5. Small town diners and bars.
   
   Places with things like meatloaf or the word “mom’s” somewhere on the menu. Places where the waitresses hug the regulars and let their kids bus tables for a three dollar tip. Places that still have jukeboxes and where at least one of the bartenders is related to the owner. Places with taxidermy as decor. Places with hashbrowns (shredded, of course) so greasy yet crunchy they cure a hangover the second the plate is put down in front of you. Places where you can go in your slippers and you’re still not the weirdest one there. Places that start to feel like your small town diner and bar. Places that start to become a third place, where even if you’re only there on occasion you’ll still probably walk out with a birthday party invitation. Places that feel like comfort. Places where you believe them when they say “famous” on the menu. Places that make wherever you are feel like you’re home.
   

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