ok so like i’m still in dental hell (broken tooth? TMJ? stupid back? stress, who knows anymore), heating pad wrapped around my neck and back, cranked to the max, calling the dentist AGAIN tomorrow, and meanwhile…
watching a bunch of basketball, remains the best, the agony and the ecstasy every day
dying laughing that f1 was nominated for best picture. didn’t hate it but best picture!? it was both interesting and boring at the same time — a rare combo that i must applaud. i did like seeing the F1 world, but like…what else really happened? old guy triumphs, young cool engineer woman falls in love with him, young upstart comes around, something like that, i think i fell asleep at one point.
did you notice that i’m typing on my computer again?! TSA sent back my computer and WTH it’s a miracle
thinking more and more about the el paso skateboarding scenes in one battle after another
To be clear, I take fandom seriously, but I have rarely been caught up in it myself. Don’t get me wrong. I write about culture for a living, and there are things that I love: I’m a Bruce Springsteen completist, and the first nonassigned short story I ever wrote, in 10th grade, was a kind of fan fiction about the song “Thunder Road.” I got really into Taylor Swift a couple of years ago, but everyone did. Sometimes when the Knicks are having a great season, I think about them a lot and wonder if they hang out when they’re not on the court.
but this — bolding my own:
Maybe the answer is that B is 8 and I am 50, and what B doesn’t know is that as they get older, there will be fewer things to love like this. That it will come along when it does, if it does, but it will feel more and more muted every time, so that by the time you find yourself feeling it again, by the time you realize that it is great to mellow with age but that before the process is complete you will panic, because you can feel what you’re missing and know that one day missing it won’t even bother you anymore. And right now I am in the gloaming of all that — in the perimenopause of all my passions, a time when I still remember what it is to want, but from the shoreline. This might never happen again to me, I want to tell B. It’s a surprise it happened at all. Hasn’t anyone told you yet, B? It becomes rarer and rarer to be struck in the heart by something that consumes you, and one day you forget that it used to happen at all.
After my brain surgery, life was heightened. Food not tasting rotten was a gift. I looked out the window, and it was a painting. I felt the sun on my arm and cried.
left my laptop at LGA security (space cadet city, didn’t even notice until my layover, wow). BUT they found it and are mailing it back to me!!! an actual miracle. I tried to send them thank you bagels from russ and daughters, but they had to refuse (government!) and so the door dash guy made out like a bandit (not really) (delivering to LGA seems like a stress nightmare)
saw a bunch of plays and musicals in nyc and would be cool to give that experience to everyone (if they don’t hate theater). it makes me think about life and art and meaning in ways I don’t every day.
also marisa tomei was at our anna christie performance (!) and I didn’t recognize her but I DID think oh man that woman has STYLE. style icon 4 rill.
my mouth/ear problems have returned full force, was it the root canal? which I thought had fixed it? I guess it’s back to regimented water drinking, daily neck stretching, occasional acupuncture and massage? (Ok ok doesn’t sound so bad on paper)
been thinking bunches about my mom and how I could have been better and was talking to this guy whose mom passed away last year and he was like, “you can’t do assisted living from afar.” and that’s the real truth. But I don’t know how I could have made it work without quitting my job? so just — there was no good solution. so now —- just a little agony and hoping she knows I did my best.
my New Year’s resolution this year — decided to do an actual one, and not the away/toward list — is to make actual food once a week. (as opposed to never making anything, like a rat.) anyhow I made this soup yesterday and it was great. only 51 weeks left!!!!
Posted: December 31st, 2025 | Tags:Uncategorized | No Comments »marty reisman, photo by donald f. holman for the New York Times
I will be teaching my nieces and nephews this exact move, stolen from marty reisman, the table tennis hustler who inspired marty supreme:
He bought three-piece suits for his kindergarten-age grandsons, coaching them to repeat a favored line to waiters at fancy restaurants: “The food is exquisite. Compliments to the chef.”
“It’s hard work, a lot of people don’t want to do this,” said Anthony Gianfrancesco, 46, who supervises the Transportation Department bricklayers. “It’s all day, every day, just resetting cobblestones.”
