The Friday Dispatch: October 11, 2024
What, a feeling?!
Hello, perverts! It’s me! I’m back! In your email! With thoughts, photos, memories, stories, etc. etc. About the weird salutation: my mom recently received a spam email that began with the phrase “Hello, pervert,” which she should not have told me and my brother about. But she did, and so now her loving “good morning” and “how was work?” texts are met with a jovial “Hello, pervert!”
But it would be selfish to reserve that greeting just for her.
So I share it with you! I missed you all during my month-and-change hiatus, but guess what, it was waaaaay worth it. If I’d tried to keep up with the newsletter during this last month, you would’ve received very distressing missives like “wifi bad in the woods but I am not even that bruised” or “Je ne peux pas partir du bus, mais mes nouveaux amis sont sympas.” THAT’S RIGHT, I made FRIENDS in FRENCH!
Where Are We…What The Hell Is Going On?
(read the above in an Imogen Heap voice, please)
In the month of September, I didn’t spend more than 48 consecutive hours at home, but I DID spend over 30 hours on planes! If you add in trains, buses, taxis and cars to that transportation log, you’ll garner a conservative estimate of 4 full days spent in transit to various locations over the last month. And did I love it? Yes I did!
Weezer? I Hardly Know Her!
I started off September by flying to Portland, Oregon, which you may recall from my most recent dispatch. Shortly after I landed in New York, so did my baby1 brother, who visited for his birthday, and to see Weezer at Madison Square Garden.
I’ve seen Weezer twice, both times in New York, with my brother, and part of a great lineup. During the Hella Mega tour, Weezer was here with Green Day and the Interrupters; everybody played their own version of “Sugar We’re Going Down” because Fall Out Boy was supposed to be there but had COVID.
This time, Dinosaur Jr. and The Flaming Lips opened. We went to the concert with our friend Amy, who is an accomplished Weezer fan and an excellent mentor for my brother (she has also been incredibly generous with her collection of pop-punk memorabilia, much of which is now in my brother’s room). This tour was called Voyage to the Blue Planet.
There’s a whole storyline, in which we enjoy an assortment of other songs while floating through space, eventually “landing” and hearing the band play their debut album, which, like a certain newsletter writer, turned 30 this year. I’ll say this: Weezer’s overarching concert narrative puts Taylor Allison Swift TO SHAME. I know I shouldn’t pit two queens against each other, but…Taylor! Listen to Rivers Cuomo’s Alone sessions! Do a cover of “Across the Sea!” C’mon!!!
My brother and I also went to a Royals game, which was VERY fun even if we had to see the stupid idiot New York Y*nkees (censored for your safety), and we ate hot dogs. We saw the Book of Mormon and ate cheesecake. We watched Breaking Bad, and we ate pizza. And we did karaoke, which was my personal favorite part of the visit, go figure! There’s karaoke, and then there’s “hearing your brother and your friends harmonize perfectly” karaoke. Shout out to Rebecca, Rosa and Myles for matching the the Reel Big Fish and Olivia Rodrigo and Nickelback energy levels. Also thank you Rebecca for the free bagels.
Hattie in Paris (and other major European cities)
Two days after my brother left, I got on a plane so I could fly to Barcelona! And 24 hours after THAT, I actually LEFT for Barcelona. Our delayed flight became a canceled flight, but at least I got to practice sitting on a plane for several hours. Nothing says “jet-setting glamour woman” like leaving Newark at 3:30 am, having gone nowhere.
So I missed a little bit of Barcelona time, whatever! Myles and I made it eventually, after a stopover in Frankfurt, where at 10am, I ate a delicious hot dog (strangely NOT a frankfurter). Then, finally, Spain! I was there for work but found time to splash in the Mediterranean, scale a rope climbing structure on the beach, eat seafood paella (on the beach), drink responsible quantities of cava (ON THE BEACH), go to a museum of Catalan culture AND visit La Pedrera, one of the iconic Gaudí houses. That last one was particularly important because we had to recreate a photo! Myles’s grandfather, Jim, visited La Pedrera years ago with his delightful wife, Susan. And when Susan heard we were headed to Barcelona, she emailed us with a mission. Now, granted, I’m a LITTLE bit taller than Susan is, but our recreation is pretty faithful:
We managed to get through our Barcelona checklist in a matter of hours, and then we hopped on a bus to France! Everyone thought we were crazy for taking a fourteen-hour bus to Paris. And guess what, we ARE crazy, but the bus was absolutely a good idea. Shortly after boarding, we realized the group of three couples around us were trying to take a photo. It’s hard to get six people in a selfie, so I offered, in my clumsy French, to prends une photo tout de famille. Which is how I learned they were not famille but amis, a group of retired friends who had spent part of their vacation in Spain and were embarking for the south of France before heading for home. I speak un petit peu French, Myles speaks no French but un poco de Espanol, and Mireille, Bernadette, Bernadette (yep, two!), Jean-Francois, Roger et Paul parlent NO English.
But that did not stop us from chatting nonstop for the first six hours of the trip. We spoke at length about our families, our jobs, and our travels. We saw MULTIPLE rainbows. We laughed at each other’s jokes. They sang me happy birthday. Those six hours flew by too fast! Our new friends disembarked at 11pm, long before Myles and I reached Paris at 7am, but they all stood at the bus stop waving and blowing kisses until we got back on the road. And, because we exchanged contact info, I have multiple WhatsApp and email threads going now, giving me even more opportunities to practice my French.
As for Paris itself, yeah, it was pretty freaking awesome. If you’re going to France, I highly recommend visiting the Eiffel Tower and Versailles first thing in the morning, when no one else is around, for impeccable views and no traffic (foot or street).
Being IS Believing
We got back from Europe and then my MOM landed in New York! We did plenty of classic mom-and-daughter stuff while she was here (pedicures, shopping, boba tea).
The centerpiece of her visit wasn’t in New York at all. It was at Camp Timber Tops in the Poconos, where we attended DANCE CAMP together.
Way, waaaay back in May, I shared some apprehension in this space ahead of my first (in-person) Angela Trimbur dance class. I was nervous about taking a dance class, something I hadn’t really done, in an environment full of strangers. Guess I’m over it!
This year’s camp was Flashdance-themed, so Momma and I arrived, received our customized duffel bags and sweatshirts, put our things in our cabin, then headed to the dance pavilion, where we watched the film in a group of 90-something other dancers. Yes, we DID learn choreography to the eponymous song, and yes, we DID decorate leotards and then do a water photoshoot on the beach, and yes, we killed the talent show with our rendition of a Tonight Show bit called Tight Pants.2 Don’t believe me? Here’s proof!
Above all else, I am so, so lucky to have a partner in crime goofiness who is willing to push our cots together for warmth after a full day of dancing our (tight) pants off.
And after all this, we headed home on Monday, September 30th: my golden birthday!
Golden Girl
I started off my 30th birthday covered in face jewels, go figure, and ended it full of hot dogs, yippee. Mom and I boarded a bus back to New York, and when we walked in the door, Myles surprised me with a decorated living room AND a cake! Prior to my birthday, while eating a jelly donut from my favorite cafe, I said that I wished the donut could be my birthday cake. And Myles, who is a good listener, took that to heart, ordering me a cake layered with raspberry jam frosting. Turns out you CAN have your cake and eat it too!
This also kicked off some present-receiving-and-opening. Now, Myles always gets me poetry craft books for my birthday (I’m midway through the first of this year’s three, Dorianne Laux’s Finger Exercises for Poets, which I previously mentioned in a WIDNBTW column3). And this year, he ALSO got me the most useful book I or anyone can ever own…THE FREAKING 2025 FARMER’S ALMANAC! I don’t remember why, earlier in the month, we had been talking about the Farmer’s Almanac, but we had, and when I opened it on my birthday I flew into a full-on cackle. Hell yeah. If you have questions about your crops, or the position of the moon next year? Email me.
I gotta say, ALL my loved ones really hit it out of the park with their gifts this year. My brother got me a cool-as-hell horse hat that is even better than the cool horse hat I already owned. How is that possible? I don’t know. I’m just lucky. I got a big, beautiful, long pink puffer coat from my parents, with a furry collar, so I’m barely even dreading winter, AND a lot of other cute timely clothes AND jewelry AND great Kansas City fan stuff AND a HELLO KITTY ROOMBA!!! And that’s to say nothing of the thoughtful, heartfelt, tearjerker gifts and well-wishes from my friends (
, you know what you did, punk). Listen, my September was chaotic and I’m exhausted and my house is a disastermess, but everywhere I turn, there are a million reminders of a hundred someones who love me. I am so freakin’ lucky.A lot of people asked if I was nervous about turning 30. Maybe it’s because my brother has been writing “Wow, 30 already?!” in my cards4 for the last few years, but nah. It’s another year spent with my wonderful circle of people who love me so much, and do so much to show it. I’ll take allllllll the years I can get.
New Poem
Last year in a class, we were instructed to write odes to things that normally aren’t the subject of odes. I wound up writing about my birth control pills! Have I ever told you guys the story of the time my ovarian cyst exploded on my third day in New York, and I collapsed in the sushi section of Whole Foods? Yeah, well, there’s a reason I only have ONE such story, and it’s because of Lo Loestrin FE norethindrone acetate and ethinyl estradiol tablets (1mg/10 mcg). Hot tip: If you’re ever moving across the country, stock up on your medications BEFORE you run into insurance issues in your new state.
Big thanks to A Poet’s Craft by Annie Finch, which is one of the craft books Myles gifted me for my birthday last year, for helping me get the structure and syntax of the ode juuuuust right.
Here’s the link if you want to read the digital version, and here’s a link if you would like a physical copy of this Thimble Lit volume which includes my work. And, hey, if you read my bio after the poem, you may spot an Easter egg about an upcoming project…!
What I Did Not Buy This Week
Okay, not all of these are from this week. It’s been a while. It’s been a bit.
$350 tomato purse (paging
, emergency emergency)Sequin calculator sticker from…JCrew?
A Mokuyobi Threads bag of indeterminate size, shaped like a stick of butter, which allegedly launches TOMORROW
A Clé de Peau eyeshadow palette with a PEGASUS on it
Or their $50 lip gloss (tragically devoid of any horse imagery)
Countless perfumes available to me in the FrenchBee Duty Free magalog
A French hamster manga (“Hamster et Boule de Gomme” for the curious)
$10,000 gorilla sofa (yes really) (on AMAZON)
A $700 Swarovski Iron Man, which, if I won the lottery tomorrow, would be the first thing I bought (for my mom) (that’s her boyfriend)
This soup-themed beauty kit from Benefit…which is adorable…but also…I could make with a real soup can, probably?!
Okay, that’s it for now. Remind me next week to tell you about the soup recipes I’ve tried recently! I’m going to go heat up some soup right now, and then it’s back on the road in the morning.
Thanks for reading! It’s nice to catch up! Chat with you soon!
PS Go Chiefs! Get revenge!!!!
22-year-old
Mom and I first did “Tight Pants” as a New Year’s Eve performance for my dad/brother/the internet in 2015. It was so cool to bring it to A REAL STAGE!
I TOLD you: he LISTENS!!!!
This year, he wrote extra-big, so my “old eyes can read it.”