Cardamom Lattes

♥️ · October 2024 · 3 min read

Cardamom lattes, Takis for meals, sliced mozzarella, liquid eyeshadow. Skateboarding again, ballet again, yoga again, cry-laughing to Seth Rogan's memoir in the coffee shop. Value World in North Olmsted, bachata, chess, overspending in Coventry, living off leftovers. Four hours of pool, my first speeding ticket, tiny little leaves everywhere, getting the fleeces out. Sarah asking how many things are you a member of in Cleveland???

4am bedtime means 11pm first dinner of soup and hot sauce and midnight second dinner of Emmental cheese and an apple. Or first dinner of raw radishes with butter and second dinner of midnight rice and sardines. Nightcap of oat milk and ovaltine while Lila judges me from her bed. Cleaning the house in the red slip with the last two episodes of Queen's Gambit on in the background. Fighting over hair ties with Cali. Long-distance friends on the phone about rich boys, guitar boys, compost boys, film boys, daily workout boys. But not boys but actually men who put the toilet seat down and hold open the car door and have emotional literacy and generosity. And men being knowable but women being unknowable.

People around me have their job or their city as their Instagram bio. I have the volcanic impulse to put something specific yet abstract like "paisley personality" or "bejeweled debris." I want my identity to lead with something about my perspective and aura. But I also want to be common and simple and to fit in and not be totally unapproachable and dorky. But I'm not very good at knowing how to do that and sometimes this has been a significant battle in my life.

Enjoying my couch, cranberry crisps, The Pattern, Letterboxd, Pinterest. A really kind and easy breakup. Two other mildly awkward ones. Wearing bracelets again, and silk, and hair in a claw clip. Hair is long enough for a claw clip. Realizing that it takes me a while to understand and metabolize my emotions, but if I really stay present and focus on it, I can pass a challenging one like wanting to cry due to shame or panicked flustering due to anger in one day, give or take. Writing and writing. Thinking about writing. Writing instead of everything else. Waiting for my writing phase to end so I can get back to my visual art phase, then my career building phase.

Reconnecting after a long time. Rings too small and too big. Midday dates, kombucha for fun, cough drops for fun, three different perfumes based on mood, picking out dresses for friends. Normal nail polish, not gel, Mediterranean bowls, the longest-lasting cough ever, sculpture gardens, cat hair everywhere. Relegating the unnamed and yet-to-be-fathomed universe within another person as a side quest. Waking up at night and finding my own twinkling eyes in the mirror. Figuring out how to overcome self-consciousness about being both an ENFP and an ENFJ and which career path to embark on next and whether I'm quirky and strange in a sweet way or obnoxious way. Listening to Laura Marling and pretending I'm back in Doha. Noticing when I am complaining or negging or being a hater and giving that teenager inside me a hug. Disavowing my inner personality cop. Dismantling my inner authoritarian. Remembering I am nothing more than a big vessel of cosmic love moving toward a common goal, but one that gets the pleasure of wearing blush and dribbling a soccer ball and lighting a candle. Leaving earnest multi-part comments on TikToks, sharing stories on the internet. Remembering the significance of the Japanese concept of one thousand paper cranes.

Feeding Lila earlier in the evening because she reminds me of an older grandma who needs a lot of time for digestion and lounging before bed, and feeding Cali later in the night because I imagine her rhythms to be like an early-20s city girl living it up in London or Madrid or Berlin. Lila's successful elimination diet, creepy man at the alpaca farm, talking about family dynamics on Cassidy's deck, spicy pickle beer, venting over buns. Getting back from a Bumble BFF date around when school gets off and feeling good when the high school kids shout and wave me down from across the street to tell me they love my outfit and make hearts with their hands. Mild tummy aches, staring at sequins, YouTubing "jazz dance choreo." iMessage sessions with Monique around 11am most weekdays, awkward and unsuccessful Facebook Marketplace exchange with Larry. Ending up inside Dodd Camera with my dog on a random Wednesday. Pocket Pitbull Patio Party, new favorite tattoo, joyrides. Stopping by the club for 30 minutes and getting mocktails. Belting Remi Wolf on the highway, toe spacers for the bunions, everyone sharing recent design projects in the sibling group chat.

What else? Daily orange juice, cold brew tea, journaling all night. No Doubt and Fleetwood Mac. Fred again and Brian Eno's joint album. Windows down in the car even during the tornado warning. $6 wings, panic at the Spirit Halloween, Doing Things With Gusto: The Playlist. Driving 40 minutes to Chardon for another pair of secondhand boots, He's Just Not That Into You, hot soy milk, cold soy milk, retro City Dogs gear, handwriting letters, overbaking the salmon, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice.

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