Girls just wanna have fun while the empire crumbles

I’m not traditionally great at fun. I’ve called myself a “fun follower", one who enthusiastically jumps aboard others’ plans for fun, but struggles to initiate them myself. As a teenager, an English teacher called me “very intense, both in her personality and her writing”—a description I fondly resemble. I flock easily to meaning, but fun—giggling or losing myself in my body or raging into the dying of the light—requires either “conscious practice” (sounds like a riot, right?) or friends who are good at that shit. Thank god for the boyfriend who took me to the botanical gardens and kept me partying till dawn, or the summertime multi-location hangouts with a new friend (and then…crush) at the beach, eating raspberries, talking to strangers in the sun

I am burnt out, angry, hurt these days. This genocide is ongoing. The arts are mostly either silent or shitty about it. My heart is cracking because some partnerships are. But, fortunately, so is the US/Israel alliance, so is the Empire. 

I’ve just started a three-week break. Right now my vision is too blurry, my inner compass stuttery, my role diffusive. I hope that a pause — turning off my phone, walking in the woods, stillness, sleep — will clear the path forward. 

But also fun! Not just some ascetic, tortured “vacation.” I must turn toward fun or some part of me will revolt. Here are flickers of delight I’ve found lately. Hope you enjoy them with me.

1. Olivia Dean’s album Live at the Jazz Cafe is a dream, full of horns, impeccable patter, and anthems like the sensual self-love bop “Be My Own Boyfriend.” Listen on noise-canceling headphones while washing the dishes to reject the mundane. Play subtly in the background on a date (with someone else or yourself!). Listen uninterrupted while staring out the window. Enjoy.

2. This one is absurd, granted. Tired as shit one afternoon, I was looking for a guided meditation and ended up deep in the weird ASMR part of Spotify. This track involves a fairy taking care of you—with poultices and potions—after you’ve been attacked by a pack of raccoons. It’s so soothing, if v weird, trust me.

3. Julio Torres’ new film Problemista. I took myself on a cute ‘lil date to see it at Northwest Film Forum (which I don’t go to enough, but always love when I do). Tilda Swindon’s outfits are particularly fun (and…perhaps my new fashion inspo, though not my character inspo lol). 

4. I can’t stop craving this lemon pickle recipe from Meera Sodha’s cookbook East. I splurged on some new spices (including mustard seeds) from Diaspora Co. (fairtrade spices, adorable packaging, emails with incredible recipes, and…a startlingly active Discord community???). The pickle is fun: bright yellow and red, spicy, fast, inhalable.I’m dreaming of going on a vacation adventure and eating it with our mid-day snack. Let’s eat it from the top of a mountain (the hunger of hiking making it even tastier), or in the middle of a body of water in kayaks, or in the booth seats of a Washington State Ferry. Hit reply to volunteer as tribute.

5. NY Neofuturist Lee Lebreton’s WILD GEESE FT. MARY OLIVER – CLUB REMIX. I wish I could see how it was used in performance. 

6. Someone in my neighborhood has been tacking pieces of embroidery to telephone poles. They delight me endlessly.

7. It is the Olympic Gymnastics selection season and I am obsessed. Yesterday, my sibling and I watched the first meet of the season, the Winter Cup. We ate fancy nachos like it was the Super Bowl.We saw Olympic champion Suni Lee attempt a full twisting laid-out Jaeger! (She fell, but she had only been back in training for five weeks. Five weeks!). Later this season, we will also see a return of Simone Biles (will she compete that double pike vault??!!) and a comeback from 2012 and 2016 Olympic Champion Gabby Douglas.The team is also in new hands (after the atrocities of the old regime): 2005 World Champion and 2008 Olympic Medalist Chelsea Memmel is now one of the National Team coaches. Memmel, at age 32, after having two babies, retrained all her old gymnastics skills (and more) during the deep days of the pandemic. Her comeback proves definitively that the obsession with pre-pubescence for gymnasts was always a (fucked-up) fiction. Her YouTube series documenting her training is phenomenal, showing (alongside some truly exceptional gymnastics) her sweet relationship with her dad/coach. He clearly modeled love and respect in her training—an anomaly for her generation of gymnasts. Under her guidance, these athletes may finally be in good care.I am now listening to gymnastics podcasts, following the scores, and reminding myself the names of all the skills (what is a “Shaposh” you ask? a “Cheng”? A “Hindorf”? Don’t fret, I know). Invitations are open for watch parties. I’ll make wings and onion dip and we’ll drink cheap beer. Beware, I’ll have no chill.

Before I go, three CTAs: 

1. Fellow theatre workers, you can sign this Theatre Artists for Ceasefire letter. 

2. Some folks I organize with have created a Seattle Palestinian Liberation event calendar: all events, protests, workshops, and gatherings in the area are collected here. Down to be buddies. 

3. The Olive Branch Project has a spreadsheet of ways you can directly contribute to on-the-ground efforts in Gaza, including GoFundMe’s for families trying to flee. To those of you who contributed to the Nasrallah family’s GoFundMe (which I boosted in my last post), thank you; they met their goal. Let’s continue to give generously—perhaps more than feels easy. May these dollars be a prayer for a collective safety much larger than the sum of their parts.

Finally, thanks to for editing this missive! And for , the community she’s created with for women food writers. Honored and delighted to get to hang out with them. (Also trust me, subscribe to their newsletters).