We’re on day 4 of #SeattleSnowpocalypse2019. V and I left the house on Saturday by foot to get supplies at Trader Joe’s (sugar, mainly – forgot the goddamn milk) but other than that, we’ve been totally housebound. I learned my lesson from the first snowstorm a week ago, when I tried driving to one of my Wag walks in Fremont. I eventually made it there, but not without some seriously scary sideways spinning down 4th Avenue North. On the hills that don’t get much sun, you’re pretty much screwed.
It’s not normally like this here, or so I’ve gathered from stalking various Seattle weather blogs over the last week or two. Figures the most snow in 50 years would occur in our first Seattle winter.
I don’t know if I’m stir-crazy or if I’ve already drained any talent I had or what, but I’ve had a really hard time writing just about anything for like a month. I’ve applied for a couple of full-time writing-adjacent jobs, one of which I learned today I didn’t get. So I kind of just moped around the apartment and did laundry and made oatmeal Raisinet cookies, because sugar is my preferred coping mechanism. The first couple of days into #snowpocalypse I started Marie Kondo-ing the shit out of everything I could: my bookcases, the kitchen cabinets, my clothes. I replaced my janky mismatched collection of plastic and wire hangers with a sleek matching set that takes up less space and now my closet looks like a dream. But there’s only so much decluttering and tidying one can do before one looks around and feels very very spent. Satisfied, but spent.
The stir-craziness has also led me to keep fantasizing about the solo trip I want to take. I can’t decide where to go, but I want to do it fairly soon. There are so many people I’d love to visit, but honestly, I don’t really want this trip to be about visiting friends or family. Kind of defeats the purpose of going solo and trying to be independent. So I’ve been brainstorming places where I don’t really know anyone. I’m currently considering Santa Fe, NM; Savannah, GA/Charleston, SC; and San Diego. Warm places. Sunny places.
We are probably going to begin IVF in a couple of months. We’ll be fortunate enough to have some insurance coverage for it soon, so it sort of makes sense to give it a shot (oh and there will be shots). I’ve given more thought to adoption as well. Today I finished Nicole Chung’s All You Can Ever Know, which was a super popular and highly celebrated memoir last year, about her experience growing up as a Korean adoptee to white parents. It’s all so very complicated, the questions of identity and belonging that come with adoption, especially when it is transracial. I expect that if we do adopt someday, it will be from India, but who knows. There are so many variables and questions and hazards – ethical adoption is not necessarily the default.
What I’m Reading:
- Before Nicole Chung’s book, I read and loved Abbi Jacobson (Broad City)’s I Might Regret This. Her essays are actually centered around a solo road trip, which has obviously been inspiring some of my daydreaming. I don’t particularly want to drive across the country for my journey, but she did make it sound like a lot of fun and adventure. I’m not even the biggest Broad City stan, but I like Abbi and her voice a lot.
What I’m Watching:
- We’ve begun Schitt’s Creek, which is so far pretty good, but neither V nor I can really see where it’s going to go for the 5 seasons we know it has. Maybe that’s a good thing? Nonetheless, I’ll take most any excuse to watch Catherine O’Hara, Eugene Levy, and Eugene Levy’s eyebrows play fishes out of water.
- Also watched the first episode of Russian Doll, because I keep hearing great things, but it didn’t really *grab* me so I don’t know if we’ll continue. Again though, any excuse to listen to Natasha Lyonne’s gravelly voice.
What I’m Buying:
- These are the hangers I bought for my closet. They’ll change your life. They’re on clearance. They are not paying me to say this. You can thank me later.
What I’m Listening To:
- Isis snoring. And V watching some video on his phone. And the high-pitched humming sound that comes from Lake Union a couple times per hour for no clear reason and whose origin has been hotly debated on our neighborhood’s NextDoor. And the very, very quiet sound of snow turning into sleet.
Sconnie Molly 