October 14, 2020
Issue 5
Back on schedule, still in the great (hopefully not too white too soon) north. I realized why time up here was so extra special right now and it’s because life feels nearly normal. It’s not like I’d be seeing friends or going to work or perusing Target when I’m up at the cabin in any circumstance, so all of this leisurely writing and napping and cooking feels just like any other cabin weekend. It’s just that it’s not a weekend, it’s an extended stay. And we are relying on the Economart in Spooner for our curbside groceries. (I think they might be sick of me and my frequent orders of hot chocolate packets.)
This has been an unexpectedly tough week for my family, because my uncle passed away suddenly on Monday. He was my dad’s younger brother — the youngest of six — and seemingly the healthiest of those siblings still living. Despite the fact that my dad stayed in Minnesota and my Uncle Ron was a longtime Florida resident (former professor of Food Science at UF), they were best buds. They would call each other and watch Gopher basketball and football games “together” — or at least text after an egregious call or amazing play. They looked out for each other as kids. My dad was slightly older, but my uncle was slightly more likely to say what was on his mind. And in that way, they helped each other avoid school and sibling bullies on the farm where they grew up. He played the accordion, he told the worst/best jokes, and he could answer any question you would ever have about dairy products. He’s a husband and a dad and a grandpa. He was really excited to vote out Trump. He wished me a happy birthday on Facebook on Friday — “to one of my favorite nieces.” Hey, I’ll take it. We know life is short, but even saying that seems to put aside the actual sentiment. We say “life is short!” almost as a superstitious platitude before proceeding as normal, but it IS so short, and it changes on a dime. I called my aunt this morning and she mentioned how she was just about to mail some word puzzles from the newspaper to Ron — had a stamp on it ready to go — and now she just… won’t. Grief is an envelope for sadness, rage, confusion, denial, but also the reminder of mortality. It already felt like it was all around us as we wade through a shitshow of a pandemic, but there are still these quick and searing reminders that grab us by the shoulders and shake us. So: say the thing, make the call, and live your whole life.
WHAT I’M READING
Speaking of looking life square in the eyes and actually living it, I started reading a book that has been recommended to me by so many people I couldn’t avoid it any longer. Has anyone else read Untamed by Glennon Doyle? I’m not much of an Eat Pray Love-r — more a fan of Bossypants and other books that are heavy on funny personal anecdotes with a small, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it conclusion to tenuously apply to one’s own life. But I caved and ordered Untamed (from my favorite Minneapolis bookstore, Magers & Quinn!) right before my trip, and it does sort of feel like the best way to read this book is curled up in front of a fireplace wearing really warm socks and sipping spiked peppermint hot chocolate (just for example). For those who don’t know, Glennon was a Christian mommy blogger who wrote about how she overcame drug addiction for the birth of her daughter, and was “saved” by the grace of God and her super hot, doting, male model husband. Please don’t misunderstand my tone. I’m not anti-Christianity or even anti-male model husband, by any means. I just know that as soon as you get to a place where you feel like you can tell other people the answers, the narrative changes on you. As for Glennon, her husband cheated on her and she tried to figure out the right answer for moving forward — he’s a good father, stay with him for the kids? Or leave him because… he cheated on me and I literally never want to have sex with him again? That indecision surprisingly makes sense to me because in this most recent book, Glennon talks about her experience falling in love with a woman and coming to terms with the person she’s always been, but has been hiding. When you don’t actually fall in love with men, you make decisions based on what other people would do or think you should do. When I was dating men, I would mentally scroll through potential options and make a decision about who I had a “crush on.” I did this before I was even dating men (sorry, Jimmy Fallon). Not kidding, up until my late 20s, I actually believed that women who were physically attracted to men were just pretending — we were all pretending and it was our unspoken secret. When friends talked about seeing a man across the room and being instantly *insert cartoon googly eyes here*, I assumed that was mostly a lie that we all made ourselves believe, just like most romcom premises and Disney. There was no way my friends could think men were objectively more attractive than women. When I revealed this to a BFF, she did a bonafide spit-take. Also, I stayed in a less-than-great relationship for many years not because I was madly in love with him, but because I was so not in love with the idea of meeting other dudes, and wanted that stressful part of my life to be over (yikes). So, for these reasons, I decided to give Untamed a shot — and while parts of it feel repetitive and a little light, there are paragraphs that resonate with me the way other books haven’t. Stuff like this:
One night, back when my children were babies, I was reading a book of poetry in the bathtub. I came across a poem called “A Secret Life” about deep secrets and how we all have them. I thought: Well, I haven’t had one since I got sober. I don’t keep secrets anymore. That felt good. But then I read:
It becomes what you’d most protect
if the government said you can protect
one thing, all else is ours . . .
it’s what
radiates and what can hurt
if you get too close to it.
I stopped reading and thought: Oh, wait.
There’s one thing.
One thing I haven’t even told my sister.
My secret that radiates is that I find women infinitely more compelling and attractive than men. My secret is my suspicion that I was made to make love to a woman and cuddle with a woman and rely on a woman and live and die with a woman.
Then I thought: So odd. That cannot be real. You’ve got a husband and three children. Your life is more than good enough.
As I climbed out of the tub and shook my hair dry, I told myself: Maybe in a different life.
Isn’t that interesting?
As if I had more than one.
If this resonates with you, too, you might enjoy the book. There are also hints of a love story. I didn’t like most love stories in books and movies because that part never worked for me. I loved the adventures characters went on, the jobs they had and friendships that nurtured them, but the romance stuff was — blech — not applicable. This is why representation matters and why nearly everything I write has at least one character taking a look at their sexuality and going “wait a minute…” I know there are plenty of us out there…
WHAT I’M WATCHING
I’m a notorious scaredy-cat. For my 18th birthday, my brand new college roommates surprised me with dinner at a place in midtown Manhattan called Jekyll & Hyde’s. If you know that restaurant at all, you know it’s basically like a “scary” Chuck E Cheese. It’s kitschy, there are animatronic heads, and it’s a little bit too dark to see all of the puns on the menu. If you don’t know this restaurant, and you don’t really know your roommates, being in a cramped entryway being read ~sPoOoOkY~ lore by an underpaid hostess might actually cause you to freak the fuck out. Because you assume it’s only going to get scarier. The hostess literally turned to me and was like, “please calm down, this place is for kids.” Needless to say, while I can appreciate what October has to offer, I’ve never been first in line for a scary movie. My QB is the opposite. Her go-to is a horror flick and she’s seen them all. So this week, when season 2 of the Hill House anthology dropped on Netflix, you better believe that’s what we were watching. While the first episode of The Haunting of Bly Manor felt comically bad, we kept going, and I’m glad we did because it gets so good! It’s not as scary as the QB wanted (fine by me), and there are some story/performance issues, but overall, it gets a thumbs up. We watched it in two days. Has anyone else seen it yet?
WHAT I’M USING IN THE KITCHEN
I celebrated a birthday this week, and in a really spectacular QB move, she hid my present in the cramped car and brought it all the way here for me to open. She also strung up a birthday banner and made me a cake complete with birthday candles and arranged a few surprise Zooms with friends and family and basically, she’s the best. We’ve already put my new birthday present to use (again, ask the ladies at Economart about my hot chocolate addiction): a Breville Milk Cafe Electric Frother. This thing is legit. You’ll never go to Starbucks again. Lattes, cappuccinos, perfectly mixed and fluffy hot chocolate? Press a button. Wait a few minutes. The foam of your dreams awaits you.
WHERE I’M DONATING
Instead of donating this week, I’m going to share a few Los Angeles voter guides that I found to be especially helpful! There are important propositions on the ballot, so make sure you’re informed. The KNOCK-LA guide is especially informative -- but they disagree with the progressive guide on a few points, so make sure to supplement with your own research.
That’s it for this edition! I hope you are staying healthy, warm (if you’re in the midwest) or cool (if you’re in LA), and that you have a plan to vote! Also, if you were a part of the birthday video that was sent to me last week, thank you so much. It wasn’t better than giving you all a hug, but it was better than the gin hangover of last year’s birthday party. Hearing from so many wonderful people in my life obviously made me burst into tears and go “ohhh!!!” many times. In the promise of all party hangovers in the future, please wear a mask!