Yeah I'm lame this week

What is your city’s OMG I neeeed to go to neighborhood xyz! that transplants take forever to go to (or never go to at all)? The transplants in my circles feel this way about Flushing, Queens. For my non-New Yorkers, Flushing is a bustling neighborhood that rewards people for making it to the end of the 7 train with seemingly limitless culinary possibilities. I’ve been one of these transplants for a while…until this weekend. My friend Justin was also one of these transplants and has never had hot pot before (which is when you get a bubbling, brothy bowl and cook lil’ food units in it). A few of us trekked into Queens and dined at Spring Shabu-Shabu. Please correct me if I’m wrong: shabu-shabu is a type of hot pot. I’ve been to a few different kinds of hot pot establishments, and this place was one of my favorites. It was such a cozy place on a cold night. You pay for whatever meat you want, but all other food dreams fall under the all-you-can-eat category. There were oodles of options, and my favorite part is making my own sauce. A fun touch to this place was AYCE soft-serve ice cream: green tea, vanilla, or swirl. Making my own soft serve made me feel like I was back in my college dining halls. We just had such a fun meal. Maybe you, too, can hit your transplant neighborhood exploration goal.

I attended a PowerPoint party this week. Everyone made such fun presentations, and I had to engage and delight. My PPT was on the horny music I listened to as a 16-year-old, and I presented a slide on “Wednesday Night Interlude” by PARTYNEXTDOOR (and technically Drake since it’s on his album but you don’t hear him on this track). I haven’t listened to this song in years and forgot how much I loved it. It’s a booty call song, but there’s some kind of sadness and earnestness that pierces through me. Some songs hit such a crevice in my heart that make me feel exposed and vulnerable. Frozen in a feeling of weakness. Do you ever feel this way? Some of these songs understandably evoke this, but “Wednesday Night Interlude” feels like an odd song to stab me. I love PND’s voice, and the song showcases a lot about what I thought relationships must have been like.

I cannot stop watching Kathryn Hahn introducing Kylie Minogue at the People’s Choice Awards. Kathryn Hahn has delivered a plethora of iconic moments, but her reverence for Kylie is how every icon should be described. Hahn’s intensity, volume, and exaggerations exponentially increase over the course of her camera time. It starts off sort of normal but then she describes Kylie as Warrior, goddess, mother…of all time! She screams. It’s an incredible primal display, the embodiment of I am woman, hear me roar. The audience does not know how to properly respond to Hahn’s fervor, but I hang on every word. I’ve watched this video almost every day for a week and laugh every time. It kind of reminds me of another unhinged scream video I love: Lisa Rinna yelling at other Real Housewives to dance on tables. This is a great watch for anyone who likes unhinged women; no need to be a Housewives fan.  

As usual, it’s all RuPaul’s Drag Race all the time for me. Meera and I binged All Stars 3 this week. I know this season is multiple years old, but I’m still gagged at BenDeLaCreme’s self-elimination. It’s crazy because she should have won. And then Shangela (creepiness aside) should have won after this. But neither of them did. Don’t get me wrong, I love Trixie Mattel…but she would have been a great second or third place. I don’t think this opinion is a hot take at all.

Do you know who Medgar Evers is? Honestly, I only knew the name because there’s a college (and train stop) in Brooklyn named after him. I listened to NPR’s Fresh Air episode “The Life and Legacy of Medgar and Myrlie Evers” about the civil rights leader and his wife (who carried on his mission after his assassination). MSNBC host and lady your mom likes Joy-Ann Reid sat down with prehistoric goddess Terry Gross to talk about her new book, mostly looking into Myrlie. I listened to the interview and learned a lot about how Medgar’s tenacity in furthering civil rights in the Mississippi delta (and beyond) led him to great change but also his brutal murder. Myrlie was one of the first prominent civil rights-era wives and widows, a role she did not really want but ultimately took in stride. I don’t really want to spoil the podcast because I want you to listen. Mostly off-topic: writing this made me think about known-abuser Jonathan Majors telling his old girlfriend she needs to be more like Coretta Scott King. What privilege to ask your girl to assume the role of a civil right’s leader’s wife.

I love my Bushwick gym. It opened this past summer, and I signed up a week or two after its opening because I heard good things about their original location. Most of the members are focused on lifting in some way, including (unfortunately) people who film themselves working out. The clientele is pretty young due to the neighborhood and the gym’s online notoriety. Last week, I had my first-ever experience of seeing a member of this gym that’s visibly over 50. I was so happy to see an old dude wearing a Cornell med school shirt grinding it out on the machine across from me. It helped me realize how young my gym really is, especially compared to the multitude of Planet Fitnesses I’ve frequented.