Weekly R.E.P.O.R.T #2
Or, what a fun, silly, little format.
This is not a five things. Technically it’s a six things.
I am a person who loves a formula, a recipe, a format. The first time I went Very, Very Viral™ was for writing out 32 actually interesting questions to ask on a first date. I wrote this not only because a lot of people are frankly terrible at carrying on conversations, but also because I just wanted to answer the questions myself. I love to plug in my own spin on something, to offer in my two cents. And honestly? My five things tend to get pretty reflective, introspective, and at times heavy to write and put out there with the knowledge that anyone can click on it. Sometimes you just need a little fluff. Little pockets of joy to break things up in between the therapy sessions and cry sessions and being so in your head and whatever and what not. These may come on a weekly basis, or they might be random! Idk! But when I feel like writing one and talking about the things I’m enjoying, you’ll find them here.
Cheers and happy not-quite Friday.
READING.
Two books at once, naturally.
I set a goal of reading at least 50 books this year. To some people that might sound like insanity, to others that’s an average January. But breaking it down it’s roughly a book a week and that feels more than doable to me.
That being said the thing that is going to be the biggest hurdle to my 50 books goal is my inability to stop buying new books when I have dozens and dozens already on my TBR list. Three things I literally cannot help myself from doing: grabbing an unnecessary snack from the grocery store, buying new books, and offering up my opinions of which there are many.
I was already well on my way through Bunny when my best friend and I found ourselves wandering around a suburban Target. And suddenly even though we were only there for wrapping paper and moisturizer a new crossbody bag and Before We Were Innocent found themselves plopped inside of my basket. I’ve long said that Target tells YOU what you need, not the other way around, so that’s probably what occurred here.
So now I find myself oscillating between the two stories and trying to not feel too overwhelmed at the status of the other hardcovers on my shelf and the titles popping up into Kindle: Unlimited that I say I want to read.
This is all to be dramatic, btw. I don’t actually consider having “too many books to read omfg” an actual problem. I promise.
EATING.
At any happy hour I can.
Much like I love a formula, I love a routine. I’m a creature of habit—spontaneity is something I can appreciate but it isn’t where I gravitate. And part of my routine as of late has been being in bed before 11 PM, no pun intended. The last time I went out dancing we left by 10:45. A friend of mine made plans that don’t start until 9:30 PM this coming Sunday and I’m genuinely worried for my bed time routine.
Which is why I’ve lately rekindled my deep appreciation and love for the Happy Hour. For small, fixed menus with $2 off wells that allow me to get in three cocktails, a flatbread, and still be home at a reasonable hour. I love a special, a bar that is only just being opened while I slide up to the railing. I love a snack and a charcuterie plate. I used to have a strong aversion to small plates (I’m an only child, I don’t like sharing food, and I love to win the order) but I’m growing more open to them as Happy Hour and I redefine our relationship.
Someone on TikTok the other day asked me my Seattle gay club suggestions and I truly do not have any. Partially because of the aforementioned bedtime and partially because there is very little about me that screams “goes to a club.” But a Happy Hour? That I can recommend. That I can go on about.
In no particular order: Good Bar, Taylor Shellfish, Some Random Bar, Hitchcock, La Dive, Liberty, Bad Bishop, and Lost Lake.
Sláinte.
PLAYING.
Yet another Stardew run.
I have recently begun my third Stardew Valley run and my first with the Beach Farm. I just got my first two chickens yesterday; they’re named Shroom and Onion. A girl I dated a long time ago got me into this game and I think of her every time that sweet, sweet summer jam comes on and it makes me smile. She told me I was going to be obsessed with it, she was right. I have clocked hundreds and hundreds of hours playing around in Pelican Valley. Someday I’ll find it in me to do a Joja run (maybe). I can’t wait to sink into the couch later and continue playing. I love that you can find new things to be obsessed with and fall in love with even as an adult.
Anyway I cannot recommend this game enough. That’s all.
OBSESSING OVER.
My nails.
Yes they’re fake, no I don’t care because *look at them.*
After kind of a bad month not only was my mental state reflecting as such but my cuticles definitely were as well. I wish sheer will power and, idk, being in pain were enough to get me to leave my skin alone, but alas that is simply not the case. The only solution I have found for not walking around with bloody, raw nail beds and fingers is regular manicures/keeping my nails up myself at home with at home manicures.
If press ons aren’t your dealio, I also love these. They’re just more time consuming and harder to fix on the go.
Something I’ve been ruminating on lately has been self-expression and femininity and how that intersects with queerness and who is clocked as queer and who isn’t and What! It! All! Means! but I’ll save that monologue for another day. Today I’ll just say, I love having my longer hair and my nails with little winks of cherries. They make me feel put together and good and that’s, once again, all. 🍒
RECOMMENDING.
I’m definitely not reverting back to my Sephora Rouge era where a significant portion of my salary went right into the bottles adorning every square inch of surface area in my bathroom, but I am all about maintaining a routine that leaves me with skin I feel confident in sans concealer. As I mentioned in my last JFT, my routine these days is significantly more simple than it used to be. I don’t remember the last time I did a face mask. But I’m still curious about products that leave me with healthy, happy skin.
And I am Loving with a capital L the above moisturizer/SPF combo from Naturium. Full disclosure, my skin is Dry also with a capital D. One of my other favorite moisturizers is this one from First Aid Beauty which I have had multiple friends tell me they only use in the winter on their cracking hands and elbows, but I can slather her on by the fist full and my skin is a-okay. When Susan Yara labeled this product “dewy,” she meant it. But I live for a thick, glowing moisturizer! And combine it with SPF (which you should be using daily anyway!!) sign me up!
So yes. Happy Healthy Dewy Glowing Skin for All in 2024.
TREATING MYSELF TO.
Sleeping sleeping sleeping sleeping.
I’ve never been a great sleeper. I toss and I turn, I do not practice good sleep hygiene. I’m always either too cold or too hot. I have chronic nightmares—some so realistic I have to do reconnaissance the next morning to be sure it was actually a dream. I wake up if my dog so much as wags her tail or breathes a little differently.
The first time I was prescribed sleep aids I was 16. They didn’t help with the insomnia so much as they left me perpetually groggy throughout the school day. I gained a tolerance to melatonin before I was even in college. At my publishing job I would oftentimes not really begin working on some projects until it was 4 PM my time because A) everyone in CST or EST were off and therefore not bugging me and B) I knew I could be productive well into the evening if need be because I would obviously not be sleeping.
All of this to say, I’ve been bad at sleeping for most of my life. And I don’t think of this as like, a cute quirk. It has sucked a lot to learn to acclimate to the adult world being chronically sleep deprived.
Lately though, I’m sleeping. Like really sleeping. For the first time in what feels like…ever. I go to bed at mostly reasonable hours, I read instead of scroll. Most of the time I’m awake before 8 but if my body wants to wake up closer to 9, that’s ok too. I haven’t had a nightmare in about a week and a half. I don’t feel exhausted as often.
There are a lot of things I could probably attribute this to but I’m just trying to enjoy it while I can. To rest. To relax. And to not apologize for it.
If you’ve been needing a reminder to rest, here it is. Your body will thank you for it and from one chronically sleep girl to another, it’s kind of nice not being so tired all the time. Don’t take it for granted.