Tarts, boats, and politics

Disco Diaries #21

Hi my friends,

Sometimes I have definite plans for Disco Diaries, and sometimes I fly by the seat of my pants. That’s just the honest to god truth, and I hope you’ll still love me now that you know. This week, I had nothing particular in mind, although I did think about fleshing out the story of when my friends (“friends”?) put toothpaste down my butt crack during a sleepover in middle school, and how I took this very personally, and how this incident might have been the start of my possible social anxiety. 

But, this morning finds me feeling less qualified to tell stories and more compelled to discover them. I want to understand why Breonna Taylor’s death is being treated like a small error and not the loss of an innocent human life. I want to learn how I can use my skills and resources to protect what we have left of this planet, so we never need to see an orange sky again. I want to know the surest way we can avoid “leaders” who do things like block the delivery of face masks to American households in order to avoid the inconvenience of a panic. I feel overpowered by confusion and miseducation, and so I must read, learn, and relearn. What are you doing, by yourself or in groups, to address the shit show? 

10 much needed pleasant things from the week

Here in our estates, one of our main, cozy wind-down routines is watching the Great British Baking Show. In anticipation of the new season, which released its first episode on Netflix today, Jake and I started re-watching one of our favs, the season with Rahul Mandal. I identify with Rahul because he’s sweet, pouty, and full of self-doubt. His Instagram always makes me happy because his bakes are beautiful and so are his selfies.

The only down side to watching GBBS — and I’m sure any viewer will agree — is that if you don’t have something delicious ready to eat, the viewing can be little unfair. Thankfully, Sweet Jake baked a delightful Plum Frangipane Tart with local plums. When Jake returned to the farmer’s market to get more plums, he told the farmer about the nice dessert he’d made with his produce, perhaps thinking it'd be a little moment of community bonding, and that the farmer would be pleased and maybe even want the recipe. He did not care, and did not want to see pictures.

My culinary contributions were not as impressive this week. I made a Mapo tofu that was good, but primarily flavored with a heaping amount of Sichuan peppercorns, and therefore almost unbearably hot. You could smell the spice in the air, and only a powerful Sri Sai Flora Fluxo incense would bring relief. 

It’s been a busy week for me, full of stress and excitement, but I managed to make myself sit down long enough to finish “Sex and Rage” by Eve Babitz, a book that caused me to wonder how to turn a loose memoir into fiction. There was a whole stack of books to choose from once this was finished, and I decided to glance at “Priestdaddy” which won me over after the first five sentences. Actually, I got so excited about the prospect of enjoying a new book and learning about a new writer, that I couldn’t focus (this is a common problem for me), and had to go repot a plant that came with a chrome planter I bought at my favorite store’s closing sale. The closing of Helltown Bazaar is bad news, but the cute, vintage home items I bought at 30% off count as good news. They did not have a Murano mushroom lamp, which are my new obsession, but they did have a seashell chandelier, among other treasures.

Yesterday I gave myself the afternoon off and Jake and I took our inflatable kayak on its maiden voyage. Boats — even little blow up kayaks — have to be registered in Ohio, so we took all summer getting that together. But finally, our banana boat sailed. 

The 9th pleasant item from this week is this social distancing nursery cat:

Hang in there, get your mail-in ballot, and check out the last pleasant thing, these voter cheat sheets, which give you somewhere to start, if you, like me, are completely overwhelmed right now.

xo

Katya