Listening to: “i like the devil” by Purity Ring. I still Shazam songs like it’s 2011 and this was a good find. I love all of those haunting, genre-bending electropop artists that are basically interchangeable.
Drinking: A decaf americano with cream. I know, you’re probably wondering how long I can keep up this masochistic charade. We’re approaching four months caffeine-free, and the mental clarity is well worth moving through the world at a slower pace. It’s also great not being on high alert during a literal apocalypse, but if you like paying unnaturally close attention to the world’s demise, then enjoy, sweetie. For anyone thinking about going off the zoom juice, I am your cheerleader. Me and your adrenals.
Eating: I’m still going strong on reducing my starch intake during the week and feeling so much better. That looks like no starch for breakfast or lunch, and then kinda whatever from there—usually something with rice or pasta or tortillas for dinner. Today’s breakfast is a good illustration of most days: eggs with tomatoes, feta, and fresh dill, lightly dressed greens, and two pieces of bacon. (Not pictured: dark chocolate, which I eat every single day before I open my eyes… don’t ask.)
Thinking: About FOMO. Since 25 or 26, I've been loosely committed to a life of JOMO (Joy Of Missing Out) knowing I'm good at deciding what's worth the money and the hangover. Usually I do the thing and have a good time, but when I choose to stay in, I am serene. This past weekend was Firefly Music Festival. Firefly is something my friends have done for years. Everyone straps on their fanny packs and loads their car down with Miller High Life to trip out on a NASCAR track to Phoebe Bridgers. It is peak white revelry. I had no intentions of attending this year, but as the weekend crept up, so did pangs of longing.
My summer was uneventful, travel traded for a healthy savings account and working on my relationship. This made me happier and more proud of myself than I've been in years. And yet I keep questioning whether I'm living life to the fullest. You hate to submit to blatant Instagram trickery—feeling good about your life and then feeling bad about feeling good because other people are feeling good in other ways. It’s enough to make your head explode. Anywho, I’ll just keep telling myself that when I get my house with a pool, I’ll host some unforgettable parties to make up for lost time.
Just tried: Umai Umai. Is this the perfect date spot? Some sources say yes. Tucked away on the corner of a darling street in Fairmount is the colorful, tastefully string-lit, modern Japanese BYO of my dreams. It's the kind of place where you sit outside and, despite the proximity of other tables, feel your surroundings melt into a puddle of romantic seclusion.
We had the tapas for two, the seafood paella, and the "eternal sunshine" and "spirited away" rolls, all thoughtfully presented and packed with flavor. Then the showstopper for me, your resident dessert plug, was the funnel cake fries with chocolate fondue. Free your mind from all powdered sugar-laden, county fair associations: this shit is crack, even for the discerning palette. There wasn't a drop of grease and the fondue was melted *dark* chocolate, just sweet enough with a touch of salt.
Maybe I'm biased, but Fairmount is a slept on neighborhood for drinking and dining. It's completely picturesque; you can always get a table; and, it's an easy walk to Center City. There's Umai Umai, Zorbas, Bad Brother, Figs, A Mano... like? Sometimes I don't even know why I leave the neighborhood.
Loving: @oldtimehawkey on TikTok. I need you to stop what you're doing and visit this page. Fritz embodies nostalgic ASMR. From the soft, low vocals to the ‘90s video games to the "can of cold pop” with each meal, I am transported to his cozy cabin in a cedar swamp. As a generally old school person who never had the chance to meet either of my grandfathers, this young, mustached dude fills a strange void.
Just Watched:
Malignant: How do we feel about corny horror movies? They really set the bewitching amber tone of autumn, if you ask me. This twisty number was equal parts awful and fun.
The FENDACE Show: I’m still catching my breath from this iconic moment in Italian fashion history. No seriously… I watched it on the elliptical, which was probably meme-worthy for anyone behind me at the gym. As Milan Fashion Week came to a close, Versace and Fendi pulled one flashy switcheroo: Donatella Versace designed a collection for Fendi, and Fendi’s artistic director Kim Jones presented his interpretation of Versace. There were faces new and old on the runway (that Amber Valletta x Kate Moss walk was major) as the milestone unfolded to Drake’s “Way 2 Sexy.” Haters will call it garish, a stray from the singularity that gives each house its elegance. Those people are not fun at parties and you shouldn’t listen to them. Watch the Fendace show on IGTV.
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