Listening to: “Barbarism Begins at Home” by The Smiths. I love this track so much. It somehow maintains this heated urgency through seven minutes of utter sameness. I spent yesterday morning cleaning my apartment to nothing but The Smiths and started dissecting their albums. I’m not contrarian enough to deny such incontrovertible truth that The Queen is Dead is one of the best albums of all time. But Meat is Murder has some bangers. Anyway, here’s a photo of our upstairs living room that I’m slowly decorating fully on my own. I think it’s coming together nicely!
Currently Reading: On the Genealogy of Morality by Friedrich Nietzsche. I never read philosophy, but after slogging through American Pastoral (incredible), I wanted some slim non-fiction to expand my palate. My neighborhood used bookstore, Bookhaven (which, after six years of shrewd inspection, I’ve decided is the best in the city) has a pretty solid selection of Nietzsche. I was immediately taken by how accessible his thoughts are, even today.
While at the bookstore, I decided to live-post my perusing over Instagram story and share what I was looking for, as well as the random stumble-upons I purchased. I would *love it* if everyone followed suit and started sharing glimpses into their thought process at places like bookstores, thrift stores, and grocery stores. I want to know what motivated you to finally tackle Knausgård, or what recipe you’re making that requires candied lemons, or what photo of Bella Hadid inspired you to hunt down those perfectly baggy jeans. Take me with you, damnit.
Loving: 1.) Toast with crunchy peanut butter and pomegranate seeds. I got this from Padma Lakshmi and it’s a divine, adult twist on a pb&j. Make sure to use good bread!
2.) People have been monogramming L.L. Bean’s iconic Boat and Tote® with cheeky words and phrases and wow, I am here for it. This TikTok and this Instagram account do good jobs showcasing some in the wild. I have a quiet obsession with WASP culture and this is the perfect nod (or middle finger?) to crew moms lounging riverside while Preston and the boys beat St. Mary’s or whatever. Once I can decide on the right label, I will be sporting one around Philadelphia.
Thinking: 1.) About the consequences of treating your body exclusively as a vehicle for thrill. During the spring and fall months, when the Mid-Atlantic temperatures transcend perceivable beauty and beg you (in sorority girl vocal fry) to drink beer outdoors, my approach to running changes. Summer heat forces me to crawl. Winter either glues me to the treadmill, or urges me to be mindful of my icy surroundings. But at a comfy 72°, I am kicking it up from an 8:30 pace to a 7:45, grinding my legs to a pulp. It’s amazing how certain weather makes you feel like you can do anything. It’s tragic when you realize you’re slipping past your prime.
In the last month, I’ve had physical therapy for my right knee and saw a podiatrist for tendinitis in my left foot. This is because the high of running at speeds and on terrains I physically cannot handle supersedes my sense of bodily preservation. I finish work with all this pent up energy and I’m a fucking cavewoman in Hokas like, “NICE DAY WANT GO FAST!” I do zero mobility work. I don’t go to yoga or anything that might encourage recovery, or at least deeper awareness of my body. I just run and crack and sulk when I’m forced to take a break (rinse, repeat). And so I want to slow down! I hate even saying that; it’s not like I’m a fast runner comparatively, but I run fast for what my body can handle, and I need to listen to the alarms sounding off.
I think about this the way I used to drink and do drugs in my 20s. I’ll never forget the time a senior colleague pulled me aside at my first job and asked if I was “burning the candle at both ends.” All gas no brakes is glorious until it isn’t, you know? You get bags under your eyes and your joints pop and you learn that if you want to make the hard and fast moments worth it, you need to take it easy 90% of the time. There’s a reason the chillest people you know bid you goodbye with, “take it easy.” It’s the key to life or at least not hurting yourself for a few months.
2.) That segues nicely into some ponderings on physical discipline. How quickly can the body bounce back? What does it even mean to “bounce back,” and can I reframe running pauses as opportunities for different forms of physical discipline?
There’s much debate about the value of physical discipline. Whether it does more harm than good, forcing us to live with an unnatural rigor that disrupts life’s fluidity. Whether it promotes capitalist ideals of never-ending work, systems of punishment and reward, or, at worst, the unhealthy pursuit of thinness. Frankly, it’s what works for me. Physical discipline is my meditation. Check out Eddie Gieda: Philly’s tatted up vegan/activist/rock frontman/runner who’s run over 850 days straight, averaging over 10 miles a day, to process the loss of his young wife. Eddie’s been a huge inspiration for my sense of physical discipline as spiritual practice, a way to use my body as a tool to leave it, momentarily, to process grief.
To let yourself be awe-struck by what the body can do, to find something not of this world in moments of excruciating pain, willingly exerted, it makes me incredibly emotional. Some people value discipline of the mind, some people of the body, some of the spirit, and many, a mix of all three. I’m of the belief that nurturing one faculty is no more virtuous than another, as they all, at their core, stem from a desire to transcend. To find greatness in the everyday, and, when done wholeheartedly, to extend that greatness to the collective.
Excited for: Tomorrow I’m heading to NYC for work. Working in marketing for a large corporation is mostly liaising with creative agencies who do the heavy lifting. It’s a lot of moving parts to manage *solely over Microsoft Teams* with people you speak to around the clock. So, I’m excited to get some face time with my colleagues of the past 5+ months and wine and dine with my team.
Working on: If you read my last Daily Drip or follow me on Instagram, you know that last week was an immersive research affair. I spent the week as a High Maintenance Baddie and I lived to tell the story. It wasn’t a go for broke effort beyond the literal sense, but I did what I could while managing complex emotions around that and otherwise. So what I’m saying is there were high highs and low lows. We went to the infrared sauna. We got Botox and lip filler. We got a facial complete with a lactic acid peel and LED light therapy. We drank pressed juices and wore full faces of makeup. I don’t want to give too much away. I took 2,000 words of notes, so I’m a little scared of how the actual piece is gonna shake out. If pain is beauty (and I can attest to that aphorism), I hope the suffering I endure writing this yields something cohesive… maybe even beautiful in its own twisted way.
If you appreciate the time and effort that goes into Broke But Moisturized, upgrading from free to paid is a kind bit of encouragement. You can also purchase your very own BBM dad cap here. Likes and shares go a long way! As always, thanks for reading.
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