Ways to unwind after a party, keeping secrets but not too many, and stopping to smell the hydrangeas
Except most hydrangeas have no fragrance.
Good morning! Normally I prefer wild blueberry preserves on my PB&Js (who else remembers this?), but I had a jar of lingonberry jam I needed to finish so I’ve been making the sandwiches with that; it’s good, I enjoy it. I made hibiscus and rosehips sun tea with mint for the barbecue I hosted yesterday and now I want to always have a batch in the fridge; maybe I’ll stir in Moon Juice’s Mini Dew after long family walks in the morning for good measure. I didn’t eat the bananas I bought fast enough so later today I’m baking pistachio banana bread for my friend (who is turning 75 at the end of the month!). I got a lot emotionally and spiritually out of the Qigong session my friend and I went to a couple weeks ago so I plan on practicing the technique throughout July. My herbalism-teacher-turned-friend told me that maca tastes best when complemented by rich, earthy flavors so I’ve been making hot chocolate with it and sipping on that at night; it’s a delicious nightcap, and I think a slice of the aforementioned bread will make a yummy companion. One of the juvenile mourning doves that lives on my block has gotten bigger; my husband and I call her Pigeon, because we think it’s funny, but I really do feel sentimental toward and protective of this little bird. Some friends and I decided in spring to read Lonesome Dove this summer and apparently Jia Tolentino thinks you should too. I made an unpolished playlist for my kickback on Saturday and was so swept up in the festivities that I forgot to play it so I wanted to share it with you instead (thank you V and B for certain inclusions!). Here’s a Spotify link if you’d prefer that. A few friends and I sat around talking and eating rose flavored Turkish delights and unwinding together late into the night and I felt surrounded by angels. How was your long weekend?
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Too Many Tabs Open
It’s back! At least for this week.
Did You See This
Much like many a layman, I’ve read Jon Krakauer’s Into Thin Air, watched Alex Honnold’s documentary, Free Solo, that followed his successful attempt to become the first free solo climber of El Capitan, read about the grim realities of manmade destruction happening in these inhospitable climates and the exploitation of the Indigenous peoples the climbing community is reliant on, and when especially bored, scroll hobbyist subreddits dedicated to the sport and peruse to my heart’s content despite having no interest in joining a climbing gym or scaling any cliffside. Thanks to this incredibly passive curiosity, I occasionally read what alpinist news catches my eye. This week I first read the lamentable story of how two American women and two Nepali mountaineering Sherpa guides died in an October 2023 avalanche while racing to win a record (“first American woman to climb the world’s tallest mountains”); the story is sad and upsetting, but I admittedly felt that it told little of the accomplished Sherpa guides whose lives were lost, so I then read the Times’ story of Tenjen Lama Sherpa, his family, and the harrowing event that took his and Mingmar Sherpa’s lives, alongside those of Gina Rzucidlo and Anna Gutu. Both are good pieces of writing that approach the tragedy from different angles, which is what puts them in conversation with one another.
In a world littered with pickup artists, I guess it’s only inevitable that some sort of parasitism would spring forth from the ashes of romance’s ruins and that breakup coaches would come to exist too. And yet, I still found the reality of at least one person out there paying “$499 for his personal phone number, allowing them to send two “500-character inquiries” about the current status of their breakup per day” shocking.
An at-times entertaining, other-times saddening, but always absorbing story exploring the proliferation of the NDA and its newfound definitive presence not only in contemporary business and personal relationships but throughout culture at large. The cover for this story, as seen above, also goes crazy.
With labiaplasty reportedly growing by 45% globally each year, the cosmetic procedure is quickly becoming one of the most sought-after reconstructive surgeries available today. In a world where young, vulnerable women are targeted by industries, individuals, and cultures that capitalize on and prey upon insecurities they helped foster, I fear this number will continue rising steadily.
"All across America, kids go to bed with a story, a kiss, and a potent dose of melatonin. Is there anything wrong with that?" That subhead is too good. As an adult who was once a kid that fell asleep every night with the help of melatonin—not because quick-fix attempts were being made to unceremoniously knock me out, but because I was a child who spent much of my time in hospitals due to chronic health issues, and melatonin was to my doctors a healthier combatant for my medication-induced insomnia than Ambien—this was absolutely mesmerizing to me. I was personally tossing back large pills that tasted like chalk in my mouth, not munching on flavored gummies, but still: who knew I’d come to be something of a pioneer of waking up in a melatonin stupor every morning.
This story on the persecution of pigeons in cities is touching and upsetting, and it illuminates their positioning in our world. I love these bright, comical, jovial, grossly misunderstood birds so much and am frankly eager to return to mass adoration for them! Abby Jardine, a woman who posts videos on TikTok of her pet pigeon, Pidge, whom she carries around in a buttery leather purse, is one of the last bastions of cool girls, if you ask me.
We are all well aware that contemporary culture has been heavily influenced and co-opted by late capitalism, and that the resulting pressure to commodify our personal lives into digestible, marketable content has reshaped the world as we know it. This essay looks at the exacerbation of branding and self-franchising within the literary community, the acclimatization to trends as vehicles for selling one's work as a writer, and how this all comes together to ultimately be a detriment to the field and its inhabitants. An insightful and wee bit depressing essay.
This is a journey of a read — it begins with a seemingly ordinary rave, then unspools cataclysmically into a story of deterioration and vulnerability and incompatibility, and fear and frustration, and how hard it can be to let go of something that no longer exists. This retrospection of a relationship falling apart is a good one. I found the author’s recollections of the protest then the reveal of her ex’s tweet about the day, fascinating — we all see things differently even when we’re looking at the same thing. I hope Emily Witt was able to derive some catharsis from writing this. I’ll definitely be buying her book in September.
Sometimes the memory of a friendship lingers in the background of your life, and if you’re lucky, over time you begin to see clearly the effect it has left on you. This awareness often acts as a catalyst for shedding any resentments, sorrows, or complexes you may hold, allowing you to let go of not only your attachment to that time and person, and who you were during it alongside them, but also the historical context in which it all evolved. The clarity, reflection, and grace that Aria Aber illustrates in this story of family and loss, California and Berlin, art and the toxicity, compunction, and insecurities that can grow between best friends, embody that evolution beautifully.
“Sophie’s continuity of self had been ruptured forever. Her new reality forced her to reckon with an identity crisis writ large as she began her afterlife living under the skin of somebody who’d been born in the crash.” After a car accident left her with severe brain trauma, Sophie Papp had to crawl back to her idea of who she was and then let go of that person. By finding solace and meaning, and even disruption in her surroundings, and rejecting traditional notions of a fixed identity, she was able to gradually embrace a new perspective and view herself as an enduring witness to the world’s wonders and challenges. I found this to be really sobering.
The Graze
Did you know it’s been a remarkably surplus year for hydrangeas (and maple seedlings and white pine cones too, apparently) blooming in the northeastern United States? Something about this is romantic and nostalgic to me. I have a whole collection of memories that literally just center on hydrangeas — their woody stems arching over doorways, the way they kiss your shoulder as you pass under a wall of them, bushes heavy with the flower, flipping stems of them upside down to drown their heads in water so the petals will revive (floral tip!). Here’s a neat article on how acidity plays a pivotal role in what color hydrangeas will turn out to be. Do you have a favorite shade of the official Alabama state wildflower (the more you know!)?
I’ve been really liking naturalist and educator Dan Gardoqui’s YouTube series, Learn A Bird, where he shares bite-sized, quick fact videos about birds that can be found in the United States. He doesn’t post too frequently and mainly focuses on birds of the Northeast, but I find his videos to be a casual and informative springboard into the world of birding. Like, I learned that male and female mourning doves (all doves and pigeons, and a couple of other species, actually) produce a substance high in protein and fat called “pigeon milk” that they feed their offspring. I also learned that female prairie warblers will consume the eggshells left behind after their young have hatched to prevent predators from detecting them, and that wood thrushes have separate vocal pipes that allow them to essentially duet with themselves by singing overlapping songs simultaneously. I honestly don’t remember how I found his channel, but I’m glad I did.
Christine Nguyễn shared her full vinyl DJ set at Chateau Pines on her YouTube channel, and it is delightful! Playing it on my laptop while I baked cookies and assembled salads and made pasta and plated meat for the rooftop barbecue I hosted this weekend infused so much pleasure into the whole experience. Christine is incredibly cool to me.
I recently rediscovered Bernadette Mayer’s List of Journal Ideas and have been feeling ignited by her suggestion to “systematically derange the language.”
I know for a lot of people it’s brat summer or whatever, but it’s looking like a Sometimes I Wish I Were an Eagle summer for me.
Sour Reflections
“If I’m hosting I love to sip a last little drink while I clean the kitchen and the house, put everything to sleep, do my nighttime hygiene ritual, and get so cozy knowing everything is clean.”
While shopping for sucuk to throw on the grill for our barbecue this weekend, my husband also grabbed a bag of chocolate tea biscuits for us to nibble on after we’d lug dishes and leftovers and flowers and coats back inside, closing out the night. This is one of my favorite parts of hosting a party: after guests are heading safely back to their homes (or wherever they’re off to next), when we’ve pried the closest and kindest of friends away from the trash that needed taking out, and our door has been locked, the dog walked, the dishwasher humming, the lights low. Maybe one of us is showering while the other is wiping the counters down, or we’re bundled in bed and dozing off while the TV watches us, or one of us has set out foot masks to put on after the other has finished assembling a plate of leftovers, because as hosts you don’t really have time to eat that much, or we’re searching for a movie after sinking into the couch together. Whatever it is, always there is some sort of small treat that we’ve hidden away just for ourselves, a reward for time well spent — warm brownies with vanilla bean ice cream, local strawberries on a bed of Toonie Moonie, homemade chocolate chip pistachio cookies, a tallboy of Diet Coke that we share with a bowl of buttery popcorn, chocolate tea biscuits with a mug of Earl Grey. This relaxed, intimate afterparty for two (three, really, because our dog is always in lockstep with us) has grown to become one of the more cherished rituals in our household. It is pleasant and idyllic, and that it occurs only after a party we have hosted makes its presence in our lives all the more significant to me.
We all develop small habits, little conveniences, that are meaningful only to the person, or people, who brought them to life. Because of this, I decided to ask some friends who were at my kickback on Saturday how they like to unwind after a party, and relished in glimpsing behind the curtain of a ritual (or lack thereof) in the lives of people I love. I thought I would share a few of their answers here with you, and hope you share how you unwind after a party—whether hosting or attending—too!
How do you like to unwind after a party?
All respondents are being left anonymous, but you know who you are 💋
“Washing my face thoroughly and brushing my teeth, throwing on cozy, loose clothes, and watching Sex and the City! Or going straight to bed, honestly.”
“Now that I’m an old lady I just like to watch my kittens play. I sit on my bed and watch them run back and forth, then I’m like okay, that’s enough, and go to sleep.”
“Nowadays I’ll go home and look forward to taking a dab. Like, that’s my high line. I’m just like okay, I want to go home, maybe watch a little anime… but it’s mostly get faded, chill out, and relax. That’s the new ritual.”
“I kind of just… rot. I get home and I need to be home for a while… I scroll through something and then I’ll have a flash of, I need to be a human again, and then I’ll make some dinner or read a book. I just need to get home and not be around people anymore.”
“I don’t do too much after parties. I’m hopefully going home with a girl or going home and smoking weed. Those are my two ideal ends to a party.”
“I walk my dog for her night walk, which is usually pretty fast, and then we get home. I wipe her paws clean, I tell her to go to bed, and I’ll just be on the computer until I get tired, then I’ll go to bed too.”
“After a party? I get some soup, go home, smoke a little jay, a cigarette maybe, have some of that soup, go to bed.”
“Oh, I just fall asleep. I don’t have any routine. I fall asleep right away.”
“On a good night I’ll do a skincare routine, on a typical night I won’t. I’ll usually just chill in my bed. Maybe I’ll light a candle if I know I won’t fall asleep — safety. Sometimes I’ll watch videos. I think that’s it?”
I also asked friends who are dotted around the globe how they enjoy unwinding after a party, and here is what a few of them had to say:
“If I’m hosting I love to sip a last little drink while I clean the kitchen and the house, put everything to sleep, do my nighttime hygiene ritual, and get so cozy knowing everything is clean. Also having a soft, quiet conversation with any stragglers or roommates or people staying over.”
“I always take off my makeup, brush my teeth, and just go to bed… all the excitement makes me immediately fall asleep, which is a treat for me.”
“Loveeee a smoke that puts me to bed — so nice.”
Some answers have been edited for clarity and length.
I hope you have a great week. Cheers!
The pigeon article made think of something I read somewhere, recently I think but honestly who knows, that human beings have assigned the term "pest" to any animal that has successfully adapted to life in the anthropocene where all cards are stacked against any life but a manmade one - pigeons and seagulls, certain rodents, any bears who have figured out trash cans or deer and javelina who circumvent garden gates. Godspeed to them all.
Love love love <3 also now I want to work through Bernadette Mayers Journal ideas and writing experiments this summer too, or at least a few of them. Have you started Lonesome Dove yet?