Jury's out

A whole lot of nothing.

It’s important to write even when you don’t have anything to write about.

This is what writers tell people trying to become writers. I say—if the shoe fits.

I had the pleasure of attending a small, intimate Mardi Gras party this weekend. I had a sewing teacher for a number of years during my childhood who would give me King Cake every March, which is about as much as I’ve ever celebrated before Friday night.

My Amazon mask arrived in a breeze, my mom had sent me a new top, and I was ready to party.

If your friends (gay) offer you a glass from a pitcher known as a Hurricane, you have two choices. A) you can indulge and feel terrible the next morning, B) you can play it safe. Of course, I chose A. And I would do it again in a heartbeat. The recipe for a Hurricane is allegedly as follows:

Coffee Order only encourages legal safe drinking. If you have adverse reactions to the Hurricane, I warned you. This is how I feel about RFK trying to ban maraschino cherries:

There was a King Cake I did not eat. The baby was visible, so I think that counts as good luck for everyone. I wore a lot of beads I did not photograph. Afterwards, we headed to Le Dive, which I have had the luck of getting into post-11 p.m. only a few times, but as we walked in, there was a table for two center-stage, waiting for us. That’s the kind of divine intervention I’m talking about.

The past two times I’ve gone to Le Dive this month, I’ve gone for a night cap I did not need. But YOLO. You’re only 24 once. Do I need to justify it? I guess so.

Saturday morning was spent fighting a battle I wasn’t prepared for—pilates hungover after 2 weeks of playing hooky. The fact that it was International Women’s Day did not help me in the ways it should’ve. However, my instructor did play the good songs from the new Lady Gaga Album, and Are You Ready For It by Taylor Swift, so I found the strength to pulse, pulse, pulse.

I also ate my first PB&J in probably 4 years. The last time I can remember eating one is sophomore year of college. I ordered it at Rigor Hill in Tribeca, under the guise that it was a chic take on a classic favorite, however it was in fact just something for the copious amounts of children in the neighborhood to order. We also split a $10 hot chocolate that was nothing short of decadent.

PB&J fit.

The weather in New York this weekend was truly amazing. It was a sign of brighter, longer days ahead, and I didn’t even mind sacrificing an hour yesterday. I spent both Saturday and Sunday on a long walk, one day doing my new favorite loop, and another doing the loop I used to do when I first moved here. I love walking through Chinatown to where the East River meets the Hudson, through Seaport, and up through Tribeca. The Tin Building, while kind of useless, is fun to meander around for about twenty minutes.

Never have I ever walked across a bridge in New York City. I’m afraid of heights, but I feel like it’s something I would like to try. Especially because during longer summer days, I can walk home from work. I’ve missed getting over 10,000 steps a day throughout the blistering cold, but as they say, we’re so back.

I spent Saturday night watching X for the first time. I’ve been getting more into horror movies since I saw The Substance (on a second date, might I add. It did not work out). I was a little nervous about watching this alone in my apartment, but thankfully I live in the middle of Lower Manhattan and not a farmhouse in rural Texas. I really enjoyed it. God I love Brittany Snow. You may lover her from Pitch Perfect, but real ones know about The Pacifier. Next on my list is Pearl, and then MaXXXine, which I’ll have done by next weekend. If you have any other horror recommendations, you know where to find me.

I would however like to pivot from consuming such dark media. I was good about not doing that for a while, but for some reason, it’s come back. I’m halfway through Ask Not: The Kennedys and the Women They Destroyed. It’s an incredible read, but let me tell you, those Kennedy men were terrible. Every last one of them. Even the one we all thought was incredible. He sucked so bad. There is no light in this book, it’s only terrible things happening to women and nobody getting in trouble for it, but their stories must be told. This was compounded by me watching the Ruby Franke documentary on Hulu, and of course, X. Thank god for The White Lotus, because even with the murderous undertones, I can laugh.

My most recent purchase is a pair of these Free People Movement pants I bought from an Instagram ad. I’ve been eyeballing adidas track pants on Amazon for a while, but these felt like something I like better. I’m super into working out in pants that aren’t leggings, and I could wear these to work, pilates, Le Dive, you name it.

I’m not sure what I want my spring style to be. I’ll be Pinterest-ing away to try and figure it out. I’m way overdue for a closet clean out, so I’ll need to make room in my closet before I make any hasty decisions. Maybe a trip to Brandy Melville is in my future. Time will tell.