I had two hours in Buffalo and love eating wings. Two of the many famous wing spots are named Adolf’s and 911, which are obviously upsetting. In a move betraying my faith, I hit up Adolf’s Old First Ward Tavern, an Irish pub teeming with the oldest people in the world. Everyone turned towards me when I walked in because I am a Buffalo 10 and clearly not from around these parts. This is the kind of place that I would hate if I lived nearby because it feels like the 80s never ended, but I find it charming. Instead of sitting by the bar with beer and TVs, I got a table in the back with a paper placemat. With “Livin’ On a Prayer” blasting from the kitchen and my old lady server cracking jokes with a table of regulars, I knew I was in the right place. The menu has more than just wings — and there are a plethora of rubs and flavors — but I opted for 10 buffalo wings with medium heat. Even though I am ranch-centric, this culture would be offended by my preference, and they pride themselves on their blue cheese. I chose the homemade blue cheese as my side and got right to work. Wings are one of the best meals for solo dining because you can transform into the beast inside of you, ripping meat apart and getting sauce all over (how did it get on my nose?). Although I’d need to compare them to other wings in the area, I found these definitely up to snuff. The skin is the ideal thickness and crunchiness, the meat soft and juicy. Medium was a great spice level for me, enough to feel but not enough to distress, and contrasted beautifully with the cool blue cheese. A buff woman set up a meat slicer on the table behind me, and a man appeared with a hefty chunk of roast beef. He asked if he could cut some meat behind me and said he would give me some pieces in exchange. I took him up on his offer and even dipped it in the blue cheese. Instead of asking me where I’m from because my suitcase and I looked so clearly out of place, he asked if I knew someone with a very Irish name I forget. When I didn’t, he asked if I was from around here. We then had a lovely conversation as he sliced, concluding that if Pittsburgh is 10 years behind everyone else, then Buffalo is 20. Shoutout to Chef Robert. This was exactly the experience I had in mind for my Buffalo wing stop.

I’m a longtime Ravyn Lenae lover (what if I said HYPNOS is a no-skip album?) and was excited for her latest project, Blue Island, named after where she grew up near Chicago. Her song “Love Me Not” from her last album brought her to a new level of fame and commercial success, so she has a lot riding on this album to reinforce her legitimacy and catapult her further. She seems to be using this album as an opportunity for introspection as well as an introduction for her now-larger fanbase on who she is, of course including audio from a call with her grandfather. She’s been very vocal about how her album strays a bit more into other genres and seems very aware of trying not to upset her diehard R&B fans. I wasn’t sure how I would feel about this album because I had mixed feelings on the singles (loved “Handle, hated the Dominic Fike one, was meh on “Bobby”), but I found it quite relaxing. I don’t think this was as groundbreaking as she maybe wanted it to be, but that doesn’t mean it was bad. She is clearly trying to be more vulnerable, but I’m not sure that the 80s-inspired poppy sounds and more upbeat music than we’re used to from her really make this feel like some raw expression of self. I liked her poppier songs a lot, like the duck-around-the-corner vibe of “In & Out” and somewhat-radio-ready “Familiar Dreams.” I also enjoyed “Barriers,” but if this is supposed to be the album’s sexier song, she’s done sexier before. It’s sad that I find her earlier music more vulnerable than what she’s advertised as this big cracking herself open that Blue Island is supposed to be, but I hope that people like it enough for her to feel validated in her artistry.

This is an old Twitter reaction image that I just saw revived (this time used about a hardworking pop star as a child), and I really love it.:

I did not watch much TV this week but was telling my youthtime pop culture-illiterate friend Cassie about Key & Peele sketch “East/West Bowl.” I watched it later and unfortunately found it just as funny as it was when I was a teen. If you haven’t seen it, I recommend watching it while also being 15 years old. I wish I was in the writers room making up all sorts of fake names or even in the costume department figuring out how many different hairstyles I can put on two people.

I finished my Toni Morrison book of the summer, Beloved. In Reconstruction-era Ohio, a woman who escaped slavery lives in her dead mother-in-law’s house with her daughter. She had three other kids, two that fled and one that died young whose graved is marked with Beloved, although her spirit seems to remain in the house. People don’t usually go visit, but two visitors that come one summer start to change things. It’s all about the trauma we carry in our minds and bodies as well as how that passes through generations. Like all Morrison books I’ve read, it’s mystical and immerses you fully into the book’s world. I know this is a book a lot of people read in high school. It has her typical melancholy and taboo in spades. I’m not sure if I read it then if I would get a lot out of it, but it also could have changed how I view literature. It would have been nice to have someone knowledgeable to talk about it with, though. Most of her books have magical elements that have you questioning if what’s written actually occurred, and I found this book to have the most moments like that. I wasn’t always so sure what was going on, but it all wrapped up in the end. I want to read Beloved again someday after knowing all I know now.

The (poetic?) dichotomy of crossing back into the U.S. at a Department of Homeland Security checkpoint a floor above the Niagara Falls Underground Railroad Heritage Center. They took a picture of me when I crossed into Canada, and when I crossed back over, they knew who I was once I stepped back in front of the camera. Awesome!