The Only Newsletter I Care About This Week
The only link that I care about this week:
A link that I feel so passionately about, that simply sending out a group text to my besties just isn't going to cut it.
Spent all of a cloudy Tuesday morning listening to Death Cab on Spotify and I’ll be darned if it didn’t make my whole day.
Guys - I'm pretty sure their music still very much holds up? Or perhaps I'm just filling my 2020 prescription of needed familiarity and joy mixed with a hair of melancholy. If I yell the lyrics of 'Transatlanticism' loud enough into the void, it's 2006 and I'm back in my hot pink bedroom, feeling deeply and spending hours AIM-ing with jdamonismyhero723
(deep cuts for my real ones).
Aren't we all just back to our Jr. High selves in 2020? Hanging out in our bedrooms, nowhere really to go, spending inordinate amounts of time with our parents and going to bed at 9pm. All of us collectively and separately wondering "Am I the only one not getting the memo about where I should or shouldn't be on Friday night?"
(While you're at it.)
Beth's Corner:
What I've been cooking lately and the accompanying extemporaneous thoughts, dedicated to my friend Beth.
Julia’s Midnight Baking: An Overripe Stone Fruit Freestyle Tart
I have been dreaming this confection to life all summer, but in spite of my many Googles (verb), I couldn't find a recipe that satisfied my vision. 'Resourcefulness is the mother of invention' is an idiom that I specifically cherish in it's relation to dessert.
Consider this a loose guideline:
Lemon Tart Shortbread Base + Martha's Pastry Cream + Cut Stone Fruit, so sweetly in season that their only means of improvement is a sprinkling of lemon zest and flakey salt.
Serve chilled.
Serve room temp.
Serve 4 days later when the pastry cream and the shortbread have made a life commitment to one another, in front of their friends and their family, to love and support each other, as long as they both shall live.
No Fuss Enchiladas
New baby fall out of your womb? Surgery serious enough that standing and/or lifting your arms proves difficult? Unexpected tragedy that unfortunately coincided with the morning you were planning on going grocery shopping? What's that coming around the track?? TOOT TOOT!! Did someone say... Meeeaaal Traaaain?!
My 'I'm going to sit here with you with tethered eyebrows, nodding, and listening quietly as you cry or complain or wallow' muscle may need a little growing, but I am ready and willliiiiinggg to deliver you a delicious meal. Imma drop that 9x12" pan like it's hot (because it is!) and let you heal in peace.
I made this enchilada casserole for a thankfully exciting meal train reason: the arrival of (1) smol baby to some good pals. I should have added more cheese and more salt, but besides that, I endorse!
(For the record:
Congrats on your moist little bundle of joy.
I'm sorry for your loss.
I hope your broken arms heal.)
...
plus a little more!
...
A well deserved spicy mezcal marg after a loooong day.
My car got impounded yesterday.
I got pulled over while making my daily (don't even start with me) stop for coffee and smiles at Neat and didn't even notice the cop behind me when I parked. Didn't. Even. Notice. Him. Until he walked up to my window. And stopped. I smiled! What a friendly cop, I thought. I cheerily said "Good morning, Officer!" opening my door to get out with a smile on my face and a look in my eyes that nonverbally said 'I'm not exactly sure how I feel about the institution to which you belong at the moment, but I'm hoping you're having a safe and great day!'
To which he verbally responded "What's happening with your registration?"
'Oh, you mean the registration that I've been meaning to pay for the last two years? Yeah... I've been meaning to pay that for the last two years.'
"Hmmm... What do you mean?" Youngest child lesson number 1: Play dumb. Your course of action will reveal itself in due time.
"Your registration is from 2019. You should have 2021 on your car by now."
This sounds accurate. As a matter of fact, I know this is accurate, as I have been pulled over for this exact infraction, not once... yikes. but twice before. Yes. This is the third time being pulled over for expired registration.
Reader: Stop. Close your eyes. Do you feel that negativity in your chest? Do you feel that tension in your forehead from the wideness in your eyes after reading that adorable little fact? What you're feeling is called "judgement" and I'd like you to now take the opportunity to recognize it, feel it, and let it goooo...
Love,
Woman Who Just Finished Reading Daring Greatly
"Shoot. Okay," I replied. Youngest child lesson number 2: Admit defeat. Move on quickly.
With such vast knowledge in the field, you can imagine my SHOCK and HORROR when the officer casually, but authoritatively stated "Your car is going to get impounded."
"WHAT!? NO FLIRTATIOUSLY DELIVERED FIX-IT-TICKET?! I LITERALLY HAVE TO GET OUT OF MY CAR?! TO LET YOU TAKE IT AWAY?! RIGHT NOW!? TODAY!? But I'm at Neat! I've parked! They know me here! Right inside! They're probably already making my flat white as we speak! I was going to show off my new pants! They're pink linen!"
The call had already been made, the ticket printed, all while I stood there, looking like a friggin' dummy in hot pink pants.
8 iconic hours, $360 in registration and $490 in towing fees (bastards!) later I got my car back.
I'll save you the math: that's $850. Eight hundred and fifty DOLLHAIRS.
What is the point of this story? Where am I going with this? Tbh, mostly nowhere. You could stop here and that'd be the end of the story. (I got my car back, thanks to my mom throwing her whole afternoon out the window to help out AND I am so grateful for the flexibility and understanding of my job to let me handle this when I would normally be working.) But would it be my newsletter if I didn't now take us down the half considered, overly metaphorized devotional? H no.
Here is my parable:
The point of this story is that today, even though my long squirreled envelope of cash with 'PARIS' written across it is now left completely empty, there was... wait for it... a silver lining. Just one that I can think of so far. But one is better than none, so I'll share it with you now:
Life is for learning. So simple. So clean. So pinterest. And so true! What the heck else are we even doing here, but continuing to get a little better each day? The truest danger of today is 1. not learning a valuable lesson about registration payment due dates. But even more-so, the danger is choosing to focus on the shame spiral around said mistake versus the opportunity to learn from it.
There's a line from Mona Lisa Smile that I think about alllll the time. Ginnifer Goodwin's character** breaks into the boys' dorm at Yale (?) to apologize to the boy she loves*** re: the assumptions she made about a love triangle situation. To convince him to give her another chance she blurts "I make a lot of mistakes, but I never make them twice."
A highly frustrating movie, exacerbated by sweeping statements like that.
I mean, is that even possible? More importantly, is that even a realistic expectation of ourselves? Is there a right way to learn? Are there people out there who are told "don't touch the plate" and just don't? Why do I have to dig myself into deep holes before I'm able to look around and realize I'm trapped?* Only to dig myself out and immediately start digging.
Unanswerable.
Unimportant.
Useless shame!
Here's what I'm getting at: The learning is happening. By hook or by crook, I'm moving away from a gross habits, questionable decision making patterns and weird pixie cuts, one lesson at a time. And isn't that what we're all trying to do?
*Personal examples include, but are not limited to:
- A mountain of Zara dresses resulting in a mountain of credit card debt
- All-in career moves with zero plan B (actually, I don't regret this one at all)
- Dating. And by that, I mean, literally being on a date and realizing you have to immediately leave or else!
- Highly layered hair cuts with naturally curly hair
**Let us never forget that Ginnifer's character in the movie is sold to us as the fat, ugly friend. Slams palm to head.
***Desi in Girls