i take my half birthday very seriously, to the general annoyance of my inner circle. twenty-five and a half, blessed be, and what do i have to show for it? for starters, a cat on my lap. not much of an appetite. a hole in my sock. a hot cup of peppermint tea on the coffee table, steaming like a lake in the morning.
on saturday we went to a friend’s dad’s funeral, and it was the fanciest event at which i’ve ever been a guest and not an employee. the array of food and drinks was so extravagant you could hardly think about death, because sipping thyme lemonade, you can only think about living. is that what he would have wanted? i didn’t know him, but i hoped so. it was a celebration of life, and what more can you ask from heaven?
i went right from the funeral to the rave, if you can believe it. it felt weird and wrong and gross, but i was booked to play at the aquarium. all day there was a blizzard – utah fighting to keep winter. i was scared to get on the highway. i called my mom, and that helped. she was in the middle of watching poor things, and “oh, how good is emma stone?”
every year, around this time, my parents watch all the movies up for oscars. i like that they do that; it’s tradition, and it reeks of a certain refinement.
remembering these constants, i feel the years like pillars in a temple, their details carved in stone, immortalizing themselves. i can walk that hall at any point, run my fingers over time. i recognize what stays. i recognize what doesn’t.
i drive better, somehow, when i’m not thinking about driving. the roads were slushy and dark, but that’s still much better than ice. by the time we finished chatting, i was parked in the giant lot.
watching ravers get out of cars with their beautiful, exposed butts, i had to giggle, not at them, but at the show we put on for ourselves. if expression is a necessity, we’re willing to endure its costs. who cares if you’re cold for a moment? joy waits quietly beyond fear.
i played my set in front of the shark tank, choosing music i thought they might like, and even though it was a silent disco, i swore they could hear the sound. i almost cried when i practiced at home, but in the moment, i was still, as underwater as any of them, just letting the current take me.
after the show, i called A, and he told me to come to D’s, where all their friends had gathered to shake off the shadows of the service. as soon as i got there, everyone left, which i tried not to take personally. i bullied D into giving me the last modelito, then regretted it, but only kind of.
as is our sacred routine, we sat on the couch and watched youtube. nothing specific, just clicked and laughed, the train of our lives still chugging.
two weeks in a row, death has come to pay a visit. i see the holes it bores in voices and the branches it leaves bare. we don’t all live the lives of our choosing, but we’re living them best we can. if lemonade is the love i can feel today, then so be it. lemonade.
obsession of the week
this scene from dune part two. if you’ve seen it, you know. i was laughing out of sheer disbelief. the feelings i felt.
relatedly, this article. as much as dune’s second part was a visual masterpiece beyond comprehension, i had some narrative gripes, many of which are well articulated by roxana hadadi here.
please spill your dune part two thoughts in the comments! my tiktok feed is a welcomed onslaught of arrakis.
I just love lemonade