camaraderie

Grab your things I've come to take you home. About me: read THESE. | instagram. |  heylabodega [at] gmail [dot] com    I know I'm lucky.

[heylabodega]

Perfect creature weekend? Woke up early to go to HIIT Pilates (hard, bad), got my iced coffee and tried a new pastry, went down to Lauren's community garden and hung out with her and the baby and then we all went and got lunch and I had a margarita, then citibiked home, took a three hour nap, and clean my shower while it rained outside. Tomorrow, an 8 mile run and acupuncture.

[heylabodega]

The thing about first dates is you only remember afterwards that the only thing worse than a disappointing one is a surprisingly good one. Suddenly a man I didn't know existed until last week holds some power over my happiness. Suddenly I think, "wait we didn't get to talk about ____" and want to text a person whose actual phone number I don't even know. It's so so important to remember that this sense of connection does not have to mean this person is the love of my life, but proof that I am still CAPABLE of finding someone romantically interesting and attractive and that means there's other possibilities too.

[heylabodega]

This morning when my alarm went off, I tried hard to remember what I'd meant to do before work, before I remembered that it was Saturday. "Oh, it's Saturday," I said, sighing and turning off my alarm. I'd signed up for a yoga class at a new studio. I rolled out of bed and got ready to leave, was already singing along with the oldies by 9 when I headed out. It was windy outside, my favorite weather -- it feels like the elements agree anything could happen (and it dries my sweat). It turned out to be the first class at this studio's new space.

The new space is bright and long. The instructor was a thin, tan, beautiful woman with a British accent. I wanted to laugh out loud at how easy her social life must be. I hated every moment of our flow. I was struggling, I was suffering -- but at the same time I knew it was hitting every muscle group I'd been trying to target. My chest and hips opened up almost against their will. I left feeling released. I took a nap.

I met an old friend for a drink. I took two trains to the end of Astoria and was reminded that I don't even need to leave the city for a new perspective -- that leaving my own neighborhood reminds me of how much a cocktail should cost and how common botox is (isn't), really. I do love my neighborhood, truly -- love the lights of the waterfront at every time of day, love my local gym and my local coffee shops and my local yoga studios and the walk to the L. I'll be so so sad when I'm priced out.

When am I not sad, though? I've been daydreaming lately of the back porch of my house in DC, of living with Sarah for five years, of the Polish mineral water in Greenpoint and our built in bookshelves in the apartment above Tip Top. All seasons of life come to an end. I don't know how to balance fighting for what I know I love, with succumbing to what I might not know I love yet.

[heylabodega]

champagne and takeout one of question mark, acrylic on canvas

[heylabodega]

Was getting started on what promised to be a real doozy of an anxiety spiral than arrested it with the shockingly zen thought, “you can’t go back in time and change your behavior, all you can do is get up each morning and try each day to be less annoying” and it worked??

[heylabodega]

Many things to lament about our life and times but it's a real boon for me, Lil, to be a grownup and unembarrassed at just the time when media companies started realizing they should just adapt stupid romance novels.

[heylabodega]

Incredibly niche but the 8th episode of The Other Bennett Sister ruined my life.

[perlahs]

this never-sent letter from eve to joan is CRAZY (published in didion & babitz by lili anolik)

[heylabodega]

The day before my period each month I take an afternoon nap so deep I’m essentially in a coma.

[heylabodega]

Need to write something I’m really not psyched about so I must once again turn to my break glass in case of emergency strategy: romanticizing capitalism. Light a candle, pour a glass of wine, run my hands through my hair dramatically before pulling it back. Our main character, a writer, is so busy. She went to the gym and now she’s got to open back up the ole laptop. She’s Carrie Bradshaw, Olivia Pope, CJ Cregg. So busy, so tired, so chic.

[heylabodega]

One thing about me is if you’re gonna try to weaponized incompetence me I’m gonna act stupid right back.

[urgetocreate]

John Singer Sargent (Amercan 1856-1925), The Lady with the Umbrella, 1911, Watercolor, and pencil on paper

[heylabodega]

I've been getting up earlier which sometimes leaves me showered and dressed and ready to go with hours to fill before my errands are available. (This weekend, I needed to look for a dress for an event and Beacon's Closet doesn't open til 11.) My weekend mornings have taken on a new shape: a winding pilgrimage through my neighborhood to collect all the comestibles I want: ham and cheese sandwich on croissant with jam and mustard from the coffee shop that makes me sad because it's never crowded but I can't save it myself because everything is $2 more there than my other coffee shops, quad shot iced latte from the Scandinavian bakery, seltzer from the grocery store, bagel with lox and scallion cream cheese from the good bagel shop. Then to the park to consume them while I read substacks and wait for stores to open.

Yesterday, I took out my headphones and set down my phone and simply gazed. It was a picture book version of a bustling city park. Near me, a man was reading a book out loud to his girlfriend. Two little league games were underway. A group of men tossed around a rugby ball and made genuinely charming conversation. A man jogged by with his excited dog running alongside. A circle of families surrounded a puppet show.

As I was walking out of the park, I recognized a still-familiar form in the bodies passing the other way and called out, "Haley!" It was my old friend, who I haven't seen in years. As we hugged I looked behind her and said hey, is that your child scootering away? Should we follow him? At first uninterested in turning around, he eventually came over to be introduced and then to show me how fast he could scooter, back and forth, back and forth. My favorite pasttime these days, I told Haley, is to have an adult conversation punctuated by the interruptions of a child. At one point, I said I was going to leave and five minutes later he said, "You're not saying goodbye!" and I burst out laughing, realizing we were our moms from childhood when they'd say it was time to leave and you'd know you actually had a good 20 minutes more because they'd be talking. We're the grownups, and I love it.

[heylabodega]

I got a promotion today, with a raise to a number that's been a personal milestone for a while -- enormous in the grand scheme of things and in the places and spaces where I grew up, and also not much in the social and geographical circumstances into which I have transplanted myself. I'm glad for the title, and the money, though in a weary sort of way I don't love. Most of all, I'm glad for the touchpoint in which many of my colleagues gave positive feedback on working with me.

I've been feeling ungenerous lately, annoyed. I recognize it, it comes from being scared and insecure. Like a Dickens character, turning small and mean and cramped from trying to hold onto something. I've seen it in other people, and I don't like to see it in myself. I've always felt so lucky, it's made me so happy.

The last time I was in Portland, my aunt told me she'd been thinking and writing a lot about the word 'happy' in its traditional meaning. Like in Jane Austen. "Happy" meant fortunate. "Happy circumstances." "A happy choice." Lucky. I turned to her in some amazement, out on our walk through the streets of Northeast Portland under the cherry trees.

So hearing that my coworkers weren't upset with me, had not been silently cataloguing my mistakes or rooting against my success, as the tiny wretched terrified little gremlin inside me sometimes whispers, flooded me with affection and gratitude. Made me want to reciprocate with generous interpretations and assumptions of good faith. I have always been so lucky. To be born bright and smart. To meet with people even smarter than me. To find people so funny and curious and generous, so sharp and confident. In life and in work, to be recognized and valued. Despite all my mistakes and all my small mean gremlins.

Spring is here and I'm training for a 5k and I got promoted and in the next few months I get to go on trips with most of my favorite people. I'm the universe's favorite daughter, maybe.

[tact1calnecr0mancy]

"And to all of you on Earth, and around the Earth: we love you from the Moon."

— Pilot Victor Glover, Artemis II

[heylabodega]

This week I got up every day before 8am, saw a play, saw an independent film, got drinks with several friends, worked out every single day, finished a book, went to trivia, got 9 hours of sleep per night, and ate healthy meals, and all it took was dropping several balls at work and not cleaning my apartment.

[peachpulpeuse]

Body my house my horse my hound what will I do when you are fallen

Where will I sleep How will I ride What will I hunt

Where can I go without my mount all eager and quick How will I know in thicket ahead is danger or treasure when Body my good bright dog is dead

How will it be to lie in the sky without roof or door and wind for an eye

With cloud for shift how will I hide?

May Swenson, "Question"