Make it Quick, Satan

“Why do they always look like they are about to eat Coraline?”

Hello, Lovelies. How the hell are you?

Ahoy from this absurd hell, where time has all but slowed to a standstill and the award for most ridiculous superspreader event goes to Austria for a yodeling conference. If you think about it… all a Trump rally really is is a much less artful yodeling convention. High on a hill is a scary goat herd.

And then there’s our dear ex-president… yes, Obama does seem to be rather enjoying his new gig as needler-in-chief. What’s better is that he’s just so damn good at it… twisting the knife.

Still… has the state of constant disaster preparedness left you in a constant blender cycle of fight or flight? Are you eating your feelings? Are they all made of pie? You are not alone. That said, we may need to appeal to the baser powers to get us through these last days… Make it quick, satan. Make your move… Remind us of all of our scrappy ways.

The other day I had what can only be referred to as a New York conversation. I needed something from a woman on the other end of the line. Her voice was fast and low, she didn’t fuck around: “Here’s what you need to do,” she said… Ah, my maven, my answer, I thought. She didn’t over-explain shit like men here so often do. There weren’t too many words. I told her to stay safe and felt her slight telephonic smile as we hung up. I missed that. Ah, New York City where you always carry a knife in your purse… in case you encounter danger or a bagel.

Last night, a friend reminded me that if these are our the last four days before another civil war or some such crazy thing, we’ll remember them as the last BEFORE times so, we need to let go of certainty right now or it will make us nuts. Instead, he suggested we enjoy a little of what’s good…

Some things that are objectively good right now:

Queen’s Gambit… This generation’s Beautiful Mind

I am obsessed with these hypnotic Chinese gardening videos… this woman’s goddamned effortlessness is a wonder.

Seeing how different brains hear music…

A new genre-busting movie… Thorp… that will take you out of these last four days, and which I’m pretty sure Daniel Levy from Schitt’s Creek should get behind because there’s just a sweetness here that the world needs right now.

This incredible poetry wisdom of kids… (breath audibly departs)

Stay rad, lovelies and take care of each other. XOXO – GG

How to Talk to Boys at Parties…

Hello, Lovelies… Welcome to another week rollicking, non?

Aren’t you so glad Mercury is no longer in retrograde? It’s Noah’s ark on the subway today. There’s pretty much zero point in going anywhere except perhaps the amazing Frenchy bakery on the next block (Miss Madeline). You’ll miss it if you blink, but just walking in the door there… is a full-on nose-gasm from Paris. After that, I’m seeking refuge in BBCAmerica for less political psychopaths. Killing Eve is a sparkly gem that had me wanting to test out if I too could stealthily zip myself into a Swiss Army carry-on.

Speaking of Brits, I was so excited to hear that Warren Ellis’s AI comic, Injection, sold in a massive auction and to see that Neil Himself’s story How to Talk to Girls at Parties is finally close at hand (ETA May 18 in theaters near you). I cannot wait to see it if only because the characters remind me so much of my own kids. I think the alchemy of sweet, weird, innocent defiance is what’s needed now more than ever… Hold fast, people. Today is a strange one.

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And yes, I’m trying to stop doing all my business parties (meetings) this way… just my sparkling personality always leads to trouble. xoxo – gg

 

Oh, Kafka. You just get me…

Can you be my boyfriend? Together we’ll thrash, thrash, thrash around on the page and in life, then tidy, tidy, tidy until finally a palimpsest. Complete standstill, then you begin again.

At least it’s cool out today and we can all walk to work. I don’t know a single city dweller who wants to venture underground after yesterday’s derailment. Oy. New Yorkers tend to make a religion out of their neighborhoods. Would that we could make a religion out of the subway, the way the French have with the metro and Brits have with the underground…

New York has all these Neverwheres that we should make use of somehow.