National Girlfriend Day

Today was a disappointment. Every year, the days tick by as I await National Girlfriend Day. Who is still together from high school? What type of girlfriend post would those I follow create? Who had gotten together, who has broken up? These questions are constantly circling in my mind and usually I have no means to find the answers.

I spend 363 empty, holiday-free mornings and nights staring at the wall and crossing off days on the calendar. My days are mundane and often meaningless. That is, until National Girlfriend Day on August 1st and National Boyfriwnd Day October 3rd.

I had no idea today was the day when I woke up. I went on Instagram and didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. June and Ila were talking about it and I heard “golf day.” I thought it was a bit weird they both followed golfers who felt possessed to post but I was engrossed in my book and not really paying attention. The conversation continued, and when I finally clued in the realization hit. It was 3PM and I had not seen a single story.

I knew two years ago when I did a mass unfollowing and removing of people I had never spoken to from my high school that there would be some cutthroat decisions I would later regret. Usually it doesn’t bother me much but sometimes I think back on who I was in that moment and all the things I did wrong. How could I have known following my impulses could lead to so much misery?

I checked obsessively whenever I got a chance and only managed to see about three or four total. This was made worse by hearing about the stories those around me were seeing, so I reached out to Maddy knowing she would be in a similar boat. I’ve found that even though it’s hard to reach out, it’s important to talk to your friends during low points like this. She said that maybe as every year goes by people will post less and less, but I’m choosing to ignore her and keep hoping it’s a fluke.

Please reach out to those you know in relationships and ask them to do better.

Moving out, or moving up?

This week my mind has been overrun with thoughts of moving. Our apartment seems to be falling apart. Charlie hypothesized that it will disintegrate once we leave. I like to think it mourns our departure as much as we do. The bathroom has a moldy smell, the pond of water on our roof seems to grow every morning, there was a (recently conquered) fruit fly problem, one of the cabinet drawers can't open, and the shelf inside our freezer door flew off.

It makes the prospect of moving easier. The apartment feels like it is in a consistent state of filth that no amount of cleaning removes. It looks wrong getting emptier. I sat on Alienor's balcony yesterday looking in on her room with nothing but the bare mattress lurking in the corner.

That mattress, covered in stains from tenants past, got slept on bare if you can believe it. (By a subletter, not Aliénor). I tried to take a photo. but the splotches didn't show up with enough of an impact. To paint the picture, Charlie told me when she moved in, her mom said she couldn't in good conscience let her sleep on a mattress in such a state.

I wondered, while I looked across the room, where the people who had added to the yellowing fabric ended up. Unfortunately, we have to leave the stains behind before we have these answers. Maybe the next tenants will think it was us, lounging on the bed in the particularly bad spots in hopes of sitting somewhere we once lingered.

I also wondered what their mugs and dishes will look like. I am pretty judgy when it comes to dishes; they have been on the mind ever since Charlie asked Jaimie, Alienor, and I the ones we liked most and least. I honestly don't know how so many people get it wrong. I thought a good mug was a pretty objective thing. I learned this was not the case when I found out the ones Jaimie and Alienor preferred. I guess that's a lesson to learn; I grew up in a house where we all have similar taste. Doesn't mean the same for everyone.

Despite some roommate disagreements, I have high hopes that my summer of yard-saleing will lead to some great new additions to our dish collection. Hopefully, it will also lead to new additions in my furniture collection, as I have nothing so far. There is no doubt in my mind that there will be some good finds this year. I can feel it. More than feeling it, I need it, as I have spent all year hyping up Long Island estate sales to Charlie and Eliza. They are visiting mid July, so the stakes are quite high.

I think moving overall is good for me. It has forced some tough conversations. Hiding in the dark corner under my desk, I had a cardboard box full of old wrapping paper and magazine clipping that I told myself I would use someday in a craft.

When talking about someone she knows who hoards paper for future crafts, Eliza said there was no way any of it will ever get used. I thought about this a bit. Never once have I rifled through that box. It feels wasteful to throw these papers out, as it's true that I could technically find a use for it. I think it is time to grow up and reckon with the fact that even though I could, I won't. So, I threw it all out.

I have decided to hold myself to a new system, only keeping loose papers that are cut cleanly and lay flat. No wrapping paper, either. I feel free without this burden, so I hope it sticks.

Moving doesn't come without its worries, though. I have been telling everyone who will listen about my deep fears surrounding my chevron fabric. It's sheer and probably 10x4 feet, and I currently have it hanging as a curtain to my closet. Here's where the trouble begins... next year, my closet has a door. Where am I going to put my chevron curtain?

I don't like having curtains over my window, and I think my room next year doesn't get the best light, so I want to squeeze out every UV ray I can. What am I going to do?

I have a similar issue with my gold tablecloth. (Yard sale find of summer 23). Initially, I tried to put it on my bed but there was leftover wax from the old owners and it shed everywhere. I then put it on my desk, but I might not have a desk next year... It's all too much.

Lots of things are coming to a close. I am finally caught up on my album a day adventure, and I have my last shift at work on Thursday (Last for the summer, trust I will be back in Bronfman come fall).

I am really excited. We are doing inventory and there is literally nothing I love more than inventory. When I worked at the Angelika we would have to do inventory every shift and it was one of my favorite tasks. (I will say, not sure why it was that serious. Maybe before I arrived there were staff members stealing corn kernels one by one).

Thinking back on it, inventory has been my favorite task at many jobs. My first experience was at Catbird and I spent many hours counting hundreds of tiny earrings and bracelets. I think that's where my love for spreadsheets started. At Rachel Comey too, I would look forward to when I could work in the warehouse because that would mean I could spend my day walking around with my clipboard, on top of the world.

I am not sure if I have discussed it on here, but I have a grand plan for my retirement of cataloguing all of my belongings. A couple of months ago, I thought I would start it when moving. This way, I could add things to my spreadsheet while packing. Talk about a good system??? Unfortunately, after I started taking things down from my walls, I got so wrapped up in the swing of things that I filled and taped shut a number of boxes. Guess it is a project for retirement, after all. Sorry to let all of you down.

I'm not too upset about it, as I was talking to Charlie in the kitchen today about my notebooks filled with a sentence description of how I have spent single every day since eighth grade. I told her about my plans to make a website with this info if I have Booth from Girls related mid-30s crisis, and she told me I should make one of those subscription texts that feeds out one day each morning to my mass of fans. I will do this once I am famous and then my fans can get the exclusive experience of walking in my shoes since the age of 13.

Projects galore!

Summer in Montréal

Hello readers,

I regret my absence, and I am sure many of you have spent sleepless nights wondering what I’m up to. This summer I decided to work on my weakness of staying in contact. I started sending weekly email newsletters with updates to a few people and slowly I’ve been growing this list. I write most of the things I might otherwise write on here, so I’ve had nothing major to share. But, I guess it’s come time for my great return.

I am currently at work supervising a lunch. For those of you who don’t work in Bronfman, this means I am sitting in a chair facing a group of seminar participants while they eat. I kept making eye contact with people mid-chew so I decided to take one for the team and go on my phone.

Summer days have been moving quickly, my days seem packed and long but I’m really doing nothing at all.

Back on my summer ‘23 schedule, I have been waking up most mornings before 9. On mornings Charlie works, it takes me a bit to hype myself up enough to make my way into the (hopefully) empty kitchen.

I always do, as I am a breakfast person. Recently, this breakfast has been eggs. I’ve gone through a few different egg phases and this is my current process:

• I start with toast. I usually buy the cheapest one, pre sliced of course. I recently got to take home a loaf from work and the knowledge that I was eating free bread allowed for a great start to my day.

• Two eggs (sunny side up)

• While they cook, my toast is usually ready. I put on a generous amount of kewpie mayo.

• Next comes feta. I like to get the PA Canadian extra creamy one, it’s the same price as the crumbly version and it spreads way better. (If you can’t piece two and two together, I spread this over the mayo)

It’s pretty delicious, and I get the added benefit of patting myself on the back for starting my mornings with a dose of protein.

While I eat I either listen to music (I have been listening to an album a day and am very dedicated to the spreadsheet I made to document it) or I watch Real Housewives of New York. I am on season 2.

Anyway, where my day takes me next varies. There’s usually three options:

• Work

• Comp sci with Eliza and Siobhan

• The park or roof, where I have been working on my tan and my pile of to-read books

My most recent roof tan brought to my attention the growing difference in shades between my arms and neck/face. I like to wear Jaimie’s baseball hat and my sunglasses while I read and I guess it’s caused my face to stay pretty consistently in the shade. Eliza said she’d help me self tan if the difference gets any worse. So far, I’m still in the clear. Because self tanner has always scared me, I’ve spent many quiet moments recently brainstorming troubleshooting methods. I guess my walks outdoors haven’t cut it?

Anyway, those are my mornings. The day could take me in many directions, most recently taking me to two different events involving stilts. It feels a bit like I’m being taunted; I’ve always considered myself someone who would be a natural at walking on stilts and I’ve never gotten the opportunity to try it out.

I am secretly glad about this, as I think the possibility of failure is too daunting. I quite like thinking of myself as someone who could easily stilt, and I don’t really want to face the consequences of trying this out.

If it’s Tuesday, Thursday or Friday, I send one of my various newsletters. I like to narrate the weeks activities so it usually takes me a long time to piece my day’s together.

I usually spend a good chunk of my day on Paprika, perusing the groceries I have and thinking about recipes. Charlie recently downloaded the app too. It brings me so much joy knowing that the Paprika love is spreading. I also love to consider myself an influencer and this helps.

Whether or not we met to code, I most likely see Eliza. We do a great variety of things, like sit in the park, sit in the kitchen, go on walks, and make our way through our list of animated cat and mouse movies.

Come night time, Charlie and I might work on a puzzle, go to a park or watch true detective. The world is our oyster.

I hope this helps you all visualize what I’ve been up to, so you can imagine yourself here with me.

Xoxo

Violet