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Hi friends!

The snow has stopped, and I do not plan to leave my house. I don’t have a lot I can write about this week, so I’ll just milk my late-onset daddy issues for content.

Hate mail

For my Bat Mitzvah, my mom designed this intricate invitation with a gorgeous envelope that opened like a rose. I reaped the benefits of a graphic designer mom with a sophisticated invite to an event for the braces demographic. She then designed invites for my brother and many of our friends, Futura falling into our mailbox every so often.

I came home tipsy late Wednesday night after a raucous lesbian night out to a forest-green envelope addressed to me in feminine cursive handwriting I’ve never seen and proceeded to open an invite to what’s sure to be an intimate celebration of the love between my dad and probably a very nice lady I’ll probably never meet.

The envelope contained a rectangular card with rounded edges and a folded up piece of printer paper. The front of the card showed a few pictures of the happy couple and some words in three different fonts revealing that this wedding would be in Siesta Key, Florida. The back had an unevenly spaced plea for attendance, starting with When the heart has to wait for something, it makes that something so much more special. We would love your presence as we celebrate our special day and join our hands in marriage.

The paper has a lot more on logistics, only after an introductory paragraph that shares how we love Siesta Key because that is the place where we learned that we could vacation together after only 4 short weeks of dating. Now I know where I get my U-Haul lesbian tendencies from! Siesta Key does not have hotels, and they advise booking accommodations on Airbnb-type sites. The ceremony is at sunset with a reception to follow.

It should come as no surprise that I do not intend to respond to an invitation sent by someone I haven’t spoken to in half a decade who got down on one knee for his new bride in front of the Thanksgiving turkey in his mother’s kitchen. My most recent piece of mail I received from him (can’t wait until I move and he no longer has my address) was a Valentine’s card that he only wrote Love, Dad inside.

There are many reasons to be grateful for going no-contact, one of them being how easy it is to make decisions. I always choose the path that does not involve engaging with him and don’t have to think about much else. This invite would be much more complicated of a pill to swallow if we still spoke or he went about ending his first marriage differently. It would also be more complex if he were less of a cliché marrying his second wife on a Florida beach. I don’t have to worry about being there for him or managing my mom’s feelings…or my own.

I’ve known of this impending union for quite some time, but I didn’t really know how I felt when I opened this audacious invitation. It was mostly shock. Did they think they were being the bigger people by including me even though they know I won’t engage? Did they think I actually might engage? Who are the people in their life attending this function? It would be a miracle if my grandma got on a plane.

I wouldn’t say I’m sad about my dad remarrying because it isn’t really surprising. This makes sense for him, and his post-separation actions have been easy to predict. I don’t think he knows anything other than wanting to look like a macho superhero with something that looks like a successful life. I’m happy that his fiancée is age-appropriate and seems to have a lot more in common with him than my sleeping-through-Steelers-games mom. My grandma regaled me with stories on how great of a woman she is, assumably fitting better into that side of the family than my mom did. I don’t have beef with her but do want to understand how one could fall for someone whose daughter doesn’t speak to them. Maybe she’s changed him. Maybe the heart really does have to wait for something!

I think the only upsetting thing is just how it makes me remember the sh*tshow from a few years ago and its aftermath. I just don’t want to get any more reminders that this is a person that continues to have a life. How much processing does one have to do? I am so over it. At least there can’t be much more updates after one gets married. What’s next, a baby?

Even writing about this feels so unnecessary. I wish I had other things to write about this week instead, but at least I know that all of this is more funny than sad. I encourage you all to live your lives authentically, eliminating the resentment and what-ifs of your life. At the very least, it gives you better taste.

10 things I can do with this invite

  1. Paper airplane

  2. Origami

  3. Joint

  4. Toilet paper

  5. Burn the edges to make it look vintage

  6. Keep me warm if the power goes out in this storm

  7. Ball up as a toy for the cat I’m catsitting

  8. Write a grocery list

  9. Channel a cartoon bully and blow spitballs through

  10. Recycle

10 things I can do on a weekend in May that isn’t attending this event

  1. Run it back at the Queens Night Market

  2. Girls trip with my mom (location suggestions welcome unless they are within 200 miles of Siesta Key, Florida)

  3. Do 200 jumping jacks

  4. Finally do a walking tour

  5. Go train car by train car singing “Radioactive” by Imagine Dragons real loud

  6. Make plans and bail on them

  7. Run onto the field topless at a baseball game

  8. Go on a trip with a romantic partner I’ve only dated for four weeks

  9. Participate in historical reenactment of U.S. troops killing Osama bin Laden

  10. Pickleball where the skating rink is in Central Park

This week’s photo is from catsitting for my neighbor. Mochi will come hang out with me then hiss at me after. I wish he’d rather play toy games than mind games.

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Current fixations I want to mention

Food & Drink

I just learned that the word for hand-rolled sushi is temaki. I love me some temaki. Sushi in its most conventional form sometimes leaves me wanting more, and something about the opportunity to take multiple bites of the same thing satisfies me more than shoveling individual pieces into my mouth. Nami Nori is a temaki joint that feels sunny even in the night because of its light wood lined throughout the space. The menu is expansive, but it holds your hand while you navigate. We started by splitting a spicy tuna dip with crispy rice chips for dipping, a nice way to ease into the evening’s flavor profiles. There are tons of temaki, and you can either choose a premade set or pick five that sound good to you. We sat at the bar and were given one roll at a time, but those sitting at tables get all the rolls at once on these intricate blocks so you can pick your order. I enjoyed all of my rolls, but my favorite was the sweet potato tempura because I am a baby. To rank the rest of them: 2. yellowtail and scallion (I always love yellowtail) 3. spicy lobster (not something I would usually pick but was definitely welcome) 4. uni (I feel like this always breaks up a sushi experience because it tastes so different than everything else) 5. avocado toast (avocado, pickled beets, carrot — just unnecessary when I could have gotten something fishier. It came in a crispy rice roll which sounded more fun than it was, which was just fine). The strangest perk was at the end when we paid: credit card company Bilt advertised for itself by paying for your Lyft home. I’m not sure how far that voucher ride would travel, but I didn’t have to worry on my free.99 trip home from Williamsburg.

Music

There are some rappers whose songs I always like because I like the sound of their voice, like Ty Dolla $ign, GloRilla, and Don Toliver. I first heard “Call Back” on TikTok and immediately had to add it. It’s been in my rotation for a few weeks and is such easy listening. The song is all about worshipping his lady, which makes a lot of sense when you remember that he’s dating the gorgeous Kali Uchis. It’s super catchy and fun to sing. Youuuuu a topppppp tennnnnnn…You gottttta lettttt me iiiiiin!

Internet & Pop Culture

I, like the rest of America, am transfixed by our U.S. Olympic women’s figure skaters. I haven’t been following much of what’s going on in Milan (recently referred in my orbit as a circumcised version of New York) but do love hot girls. All I knew was that they were alt, gay, and from New Jersey. What’s not to like? When she’s not flexing in TikTok thirst traps, Amber Glenn is gliding in some sort of a backbend to Lady Gaga and being very proudly queer while doing it. I hope she is absolutely drowning in women once she returns from being a champion. I am even more transfixed by Alysa Liu and her frenulum piercing in a gold-winning free skate as well as a exhibition showing to the PinkPantheress x Zara Larsson “Stateside” remix. Alysa has it all figured out at 20 that most people never can. After taking a break from skating to focus on her mental health, she seems to not really give a f*ck that she’s at the Olympics. She just wants to showcase her art and have fun. You can feel her nonchalance and joy as she skates and even as she reacts to her victory. She’s just a total cutie and shows that you can be a champion without being a total freak about it.

Television & Maybe Movies

I have seen every episode (aside from the final few from the last cycle) of America’s Next Top Model. I think it’s one of the best reality shows of all time. You have beauty, fashion, drama, travel, wacky judges, and high personal stakes that make this show great. I was so excited to watch Netflix’s three-part documentary, Reality Check: Inside America’s Next Top Model, and it did not disappoint. I don’t think you need to be a Top Model fan to enjoy this docuseries about how this show changed reality TV and vice versa. We see the highs and lows of the show and how it changed the contestants’ lives, mostly for the worse. We learned lots of upsetting behind-the-scenes info: girls were quarantined without phones after they were eliminated as the season continued without them, and Jay Manuel confirmed that not every picture chosen to be critiqued was each model’s best picture. It was nice to see Danielle, Bre, Dionne, and Keenyah be somehow more beautiful decades later but sad to hear how the show derailed their modeling careers. Shandi’s story was actually so sad and disturbing. I was saddened to see the fabulous Miss J Alexander in recovery from a stroke. Jay Manuel’s whole story was so interesting because I found him at times very rude on the show and picking favorites but he was also a bit of a victim of the show’s toxicity in how Tyra cut him off. Tyra Banks is such an interesting celebrity and figure of the show because she is both a trailblazer and a destroyer. Although lots of blame should be placed on her for the show’s toxic and problematic elements, I genuinely believe she built the show with good intentions. Plus, executives and producers like Ken Mok are just as if not more to blame for what went wrong with the show. I wonder if the show would be more effective today since brands are more likely to hire influencers and less-traditional models than in the aughts/2010s. I guess we’ll find out soon because Tyra is apparently making a 25th cycle.

Journalism & Literature

Staying on the theme of nonchalant women showcasing their art, The Cut profiled Rama Duwaji in “The Artist in Gracie Mansion” all about her entry into being the first lady of New York City. This story was published months ago, but it’s resurged to the front of my mind after seeing the full-page Hepburnesque pictures of her in The Cut’s spring print issue. She is a very nontraditional first lady in that she’s super cool and is really just focusing on herself instead of defaulting to being an elected official’s wife. Reading this story reminded me that she’s around my age, and it’s wild to see how that looks on someone reaching a certain level of public status.

Something I Saw in the Wild

Lila and I got on the Q train and saw a guy wearing Kiss makeup while wearing a hoodie and otherwise normal clothes. He was just going about his day.

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