Everything I Loved in July

Olympics commentary, my new favorite cookbook, and a nice touch for gifts

Hello from my sick bed!

*cough cough!*

It’s been a respiratorily-challenging month with a cold that has long outstayed its welcome and has splayed the dog days out into a hazy heatwave Olympics fever dream punctuated by vats of noodles and emotional breakdowns.

(I always feel weepy and disconsolate while sick as though I’m a convalescing Victorian poet; is illness-accompanied doom and gloom a human thing or Mari thing?)

Anyway, recommendations this month are heavily influenced by a non-stop cough and heightened sense of interconnectedness with all the suffering of the world—if you’re into that kind of thing.

READING

Making Peace with Regret

I have a silly small regret that I think about every day. More accurately, that I cringe about every day.

I think most people would say it’s not a big deal, but I’m overwhelmed with shame and anxiety at the thought of it, which is often enough to disrupt daily happiness.

(Lemme get through it in therapy and then I’ll write about it ;)

I picked up this book as a salve for my particular gash, but I’ve appreciated many additional insights on human nature and the ways we think about human nature:

It may not surprise you that the VAST majority of regrets are over actions we didn’t take, a realization which drove most of the decisions of my young adult life.

“What will I regret not doing?” was basically my guiding mantra from age 25-35, which means that I have a full and colorful memory bank but not a full….actual bank. ;)

And my instinct seemed wise, given how much ‘advice to younger self’ pieces seem to follow that philosophy, for example:

GLAMOUR: If you could do it all over again, what advice would you give your younger self?

Elle: Don’t be so dramatic. Nothing is set in stone.

Greta: Kiss all the people you want to kiss; never feel bad about it.

Annette: Even if you have to hurt people, follow your heart.

But I’ve still picked up a few regrets on the DID DO side, and this book is helping me parse it out.

My favorite concept from the book: Your rational brain is not the beacon of logic we think it is. Its job is to serve the boss, and the boss is our instinctive, emotional responses to moral questions. “Reason” is not the president of our mind, but rather the press secretary.

Reflecting on values

While waiting for my Zoloft prescription to be filled at my local pharmacy, I happened upon this contemplative journal near the checkout, and the quotes and questions immediately resonated so I decided to buy it for myself as “a little treat.” :)

I generally believe that all religions say the same thing (which I’m fascinated by!), but the orderliness of Muslim values is something I vibe with extremely hard.

I’m naturally very values-driven, and would like to be more so, in my pursuit of becoming someone who I admire.

The people I admire most are those who live beautifully within a strong moral framework, like my darling farmer friends at Halal Pastures whose Muslim faith and framework drive their love and care for the planet—resulting in the tastiest produce I’ve ever had.

I’m not a guided journal girlie (despite having published one hehe), but I relish spending some small gentle time each day wandering into the nooks of my brain in search of tools that will fortify my own moral scaffolding, with questions like:

-Is it possible to plan a day around mercy? Can it become routine for you?
-What is it that makes people cling to their opinions?
-Do you consider yourself a patient person? Do you value patience? If so, what are specific ways you can be more patient?
-History is full of stories of forgiveness. Is there a story that stands out to you that can serve as an example for your day-to-day life?
-The opposite of fasting is overeating. How do we overindulge each one of our five senses? How do you feel when you consume too much of something?
-Lessons taught by force tend to not stick and can cause pain, but those taught through love or compassion often make a lasting impression. List the fundamental values that were taught to you with love.

WATCHING

My Sick Bed Film Festival

Whenever I’m not sick, I envy those who are sick, because I want to lie in a bed and watch movies too!!

But when I am sick, I realize that being able to lie in bed and watch movies doesn’t make up for the toll of physical misery and mental strain.

My brain becomes 97% cotton ball, and the remainder can only handle so much stimulation without crumpling up like a sea anemone. Loud comedies and action-packed dramas are off the table.

During this bout of indisposition, I learned that my sick-day entertainment sweet-spot is from the 40s and 50s—when films were quieter yet punchier.

I started with the oeuvre of Doris Day, whose rom-coms I loved as a child: Pillow Talk and The Thrill of It All, which are effortlessly funny, perfectly bubbly, and visually gorgeous.

Then I went back a bit farther in time to the 40s to re-watch an old favorite, Gaslight, the eponymous concept and its rampant misuse an embarrassment to how creative, spooky, and maddening the movie is!

A baby Angela Lansbury was nominated for an Oscar for this role, for which she got to wear a fabulous head-doily (Motion to Bring Back Head-Doilies!)

The 40s were really the heyday for psychological thrillers, huh? Maybe it’s because they didn’t yet have vocabulary for most modern afflictions, so the mysteries of obsession, panic, and ‘insanity’ were still very scary.

Gaslight reminded me a lot of one of my all-time favorite movies, the skin-crawly Rebecca, which I watch at least once a year (and you can do for free on YouTube here).

The titular character is never seen, but rather obsessed over for two hours.

I suspect Hitchcock must have had OCD for how adept he was at turning a normal person’s mind into a torture chamber over the length of a film over one fixation or another.

Rebecca terrifyingly explores all-consuming comparison and jealousy, which are my personal favorite means of self-infliction, but also common for so many these days. I’d love to remake a contemporary Rebecca added with the torture device of Instagram.

Gaslight is a better, tighter, prettier movie, but do see Rebecca if you haven’t, to experience one of the greatest filmmaker’s greatest skills: making you think you’re crazy.

LISTENING

Los Wálters

Los Wálters, a Puerto Rican indie band I’m obsessed with, released a new single that I am EXTREMELY obsessed with!

The rhythm and instrumentals sound like traditional Andean pan flute music (think: El Condor Pasa) but…make it synthpop!?

I don’t have the musical terms to explain; you just have to listen and groove along:

Nobody’s Listening, Right?

Something that is both comforting and eerie to me is that you can’t choose your memories.

You can “make memories,” sure, but you really have no control over whether you end up remembering them or not.

This is comforting to me, as someone who feels a leap of pressure at the beginning of each season and on every holiday and during every vacation to ‘make the most of it’ and pack as many exquisite experiences in as possible so that my memories might some day glisten with a golden sheen.

I remind myself that, for example: while I might have visited the pumpkin patch or apple orchard during fall, my most potent autumnal memory was a surprising sunset on a walk home from the grocery store.

Most of my vivid memories are the ones that happened in the cracks, not during the main event. You can plan the main events, but you can’t plan for the cracks. You can’t plan for the magic and spontaneity that end up solidifying in the cave of your memory treasures.

ANYWAY, I was reminded of this, when I randomly came across a new-to-me podcast, Nobody’s Listening, Right?

It’s not the best podcast I’ve ever listened to in my life; it’s simply a candid conversation between Elizabeth and Andy, a married couple who record as they catch up with each other.

But the second I started listening, a potent memory came whooshing into my stomach.

I used to hear Elizabeth and Andy’s voices on their old podcast called “Totally Married”—one of the first I ever regularly listened to.

I don’t know how I found it or why I subscribed (I was Totally Single), but I do remember listening to it constantly during my time in Spain in 2017.

So funny—I was living in one of the most beautiful cities in the world, writing my book, collecting all sorts of once-in-a-lifetime experiences by the hour….and this is the most potent memory I have from that time:

Turning on two space heaters before I got in the shower because the bathroom was so cold, then drying off and doing my hair while listening to downloaded episodes of Totally Married from my phone.

Listening to Nobody’s Listening, Right? brought me RIGHT back to Granada, and that cold apartment, and the last true adventure I ever had.

A sweet song about planning a trip

Speaking of which, I’m finally going back to Spain this fall (!), so this lovely little love song (or, maybe very fond breakup song) has been keeping me company on walks. Makes me want to shimmy down the sidewalk:

EATING

The best comfort food ever

Whenever I’m sick, I just want buckets of comfort food brought to my bedside. Give me General Tso’s, give me pho, give me pad thai, give me a swimming pool full of mashed potatoes for me to backstroke in until I feel better.

But this time, I had to make my own, since my absolute all-time favorite comfort food (Marie Callender’s frozen chicken pot pie) isn’t readily available in vegan form.

I had doubts that a home-made, non-dairy/meat version could slay, but this was the best pot pie I’ve ever had.

Instead of fussing with crust, I only put together the filling (very quick and easy—I just bought baked tofu at the grocery store).

Then I bought some (dairy-free for me) pastry dough and tossed a square of it in the oven for a couple minutes whenever I wanted a helping.

I placed the flaky dough on top of the filling and—ta da!!! Perfect, perfect sick food. Or any-state-of-being food.

Best comfort food, cont.

I ate BEAUCOUP Thai food while I was sick, and re-realized that it is the perfect fare.

But for some reason, I’ve rarely explored making Thai dishes myself?? Odd, odd behavior!

Especially because I was raised on Southeast Asian flavors; My mom’s kitchen smelled like ginger and lemongrass (her love of Vietnamese food formed a strong ambrosial memory!), and lunch with my dad was always Malaysian, always.

While I was pondering the strangeness of my Thai cooking ignorance, I was listening to Spilled Milk, one of my very favorite podcasts (co-hosted by one of my very favorite writers, Molly Wizenberg!) and they received an audience question to the effect of, “Which cookbook would you give a recent grad, newlywed, or someone just starting out on their cooking journey?”

Host Matthew suggested Sabai, an everyday Thai cookbook by Pailin Chongchitnant, which I promptly ordered. Every single recipe in it looks utterly spectacular (lots of visuals, which I so appreciate in a cookbook!), and Pailin is exceptionally generous in breaking down all the steps for dummy-dumbs like me.

And very good comfort food, if not the best

For lazier days when I still want to make my own comfy happy filling food, I turn to a tikka masala curry, which is so good over absolutely anything.

Last night I stirred in tofu for me, and plant-based “beef” for Mr. Mari, but vegetables or potatoes or any other meat would go fabulously in this flavor-bath.

I don’t have a formal recipe (who needs ‘em!) but it’s very easy:

I sauté a chopped yellow onion and mix in ginger (either fresh if I have it or powdered), garlic (fresh if I have it or powdered), and tons of seasoning (salt, curry powder, paprika, chili powder, and garam masala or my own mix). Then I add a can of coconut milk and a big scoop of tomato paste, and stir/simmer until it looks like a curry. The end.

DOING

Getting into the Olympics

I made the decision last month to get really into the Olympics.

When the eclipse traveled through New York in April, I realized how magical it was to have an event that united so many people during a small period of time. And the Olympics literally unites the whole world for two weeks!

As a baby gymnast and ice-skating freak, I was always suuuuper into the Olympics as a youngster and then….???

Streaming made it confusing? And time zones?? And covid?!! And???

But this year, none of those excuses! The time zone is easy, I have a TV, I’ve had LOTS of sick days, and I’ve read the back stories of all the “athletes to watch”…so I was primed to be into it, and understand all the memes.

Gymnastics will always have such a special place in my heart (shout out to my mom who cut out every article about Dominique Moceanu for me for years), but I’ve been really jazzed about a lot of events this year: SURFING! SWIMMING! BREAK-DANCING!?

I respect athletes like nobody’s business. Athletic events truly inspire awe. I have enough of an obsessive/addictive personality that I can kind of imagine what it’s like to devote your entire life to a single moment (but none of the gumption :)

Here are some observations through the weeks:

Opening Ceremony

Soooo… France obviously has labor laws, and…it shows. (In contrast to the Chinese opening ceremony). I’m just going to go ahead and say it. Those dancers were taking their LUNCH BREAKS.

But the Les-Mis-into-Gojira-performance at the Marie Antoinette prison was unbelievable. I could actually not believe what was happening.

Gymnastics

I have much respect for all the American gymnasts’ flipping and flopping OBVIOUSLY, but my eyeballs simply prefer a long-lost graceful balletic style (honk if you miss the Russians) that I could only find in Kaylia Nemour (French but competing for Algeria) who must be part-swan.

Her elegance reminds me a lot of the Romanian gymnasts I fell in love with as a kid—those powerhouses of poise!

I was very excited to watch Kaylia compete and she did not disappoint!

I’ve had my eye on Rebeca Andrade from Brazil for a while now too, and how could I not tear up at this image?! Rebeca is a sort of protegée of Simone Biles, and standing next to her (being bowed to by her!!!) must have been an otherworldly thrill.

Gymnastics dads win everything:

It was also exciting to watch everybody get really into men’s gymnastics all of a sudden—including me!

U.S. men’s gymnastics is historically a total flop; there are 15 total men’s gymnastics programs in colleges nationwide, whereas there are 87 for women. This Olympics really brought them up a notch!

I loved watching Asher Hong, the world’s greatest hype-man cheer for himself and others:

(I got back on my personal Instagram to document my sick-day viewing of the Olympics and had WAY too much fun)

The entire world falling in love with “Pommel Horse Guy” for whipping off his glasses and securing a medal for the U.S. is exactly what the Olympics are about for me!

Incredible horse stuff:

Terrible horse stuff:

Rugby

I feel like Americans (including this American) just learned about rugby and it’s been delightful to watch this sport I know absolutely nothing about, mostly due to the Internet’s darling Ilona Maher:

ilonamaher

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She is just perfect! I was pumped for the game even though I was sick and had zero clue what was going on:

And this didn’t hurt either, hehehehe:

blakelythornton

A post shared by @blakelythornton

I was over here thinking America was the only country with violent team sports but all y’all Europeans have just been tossing each other around this whole time!!! Rugby is VICIOUS!

Shooting

Ahem, I wasn’t going to be the one to say it but……

Fencing

So at first I was laughing…

But then I was cheering! So much happens during an hour’s viewing of the Olympics!!

Running and Swimming and So Much More!

Even (especially!) when I don’t know much about the sport, the competitions are so exciting (and stressful! and heart-pounding!) to watch, as though I personally gave birth to every one of these athletes.

I have especially enjoyed getting into handball, pole-vaulting, and the triathlon…and there’s still so much fun stuff coming up!!!

Here are a couple Leslie Jones observations that gave me joy:

Swimming: “That’s gonna be our next swimmer, right there”

Decathlon: “Can you put it back on the Puerto Rican dude?”

Gymnastics: “She is VERY tough”

Rugby: “How do you even fix your hair for that?!”

Shooting: “Y’all teaching kids how to be snipers??”

Basketball: “Is this an intermediate league or something?”

Design

One major shout out to the design of the Olympics gym. It is just gorgeous. I’ve heard of many a gymnast SALIVATING to do their flippy-flops on that Tiffany Blue vault and I don’t blame them!

Whenever I can’t sleep, I think about a gym I’m going to design in my next life. Because all gyms are extremely ugly, I dream of designing a gym that has pleasing colors on all equipment, lovely music, and beautiful food and drink available (none of those powders that come in gigantic black plastic tubs).

I will call it “Soft Strength.” This is a free idea. Please use and make it if you have the means to do so.

I’m sure anyone else who is hyper-sensitive to aesthetics is LIVING for this gym right now:

BUYING

Rental of the Month

A sick-day-friendly frock!

I rented one of my all-time favorites this month: a casual dress that worked magnificently for dipping my weak little toes back into the world after napping for weeks.

I don’t have any photos of me in it because I looked (and still looked) like any of the paintings featured in “Cholera in Art”, but you can see how cute it is here:

A nice touch to a gift

My love for whimsical wrapping paper

I pride myself on being a good gift-giver, but sometimes you’ve just got to phone it in with a candle (I LOVE getting candles, for the record!). In that case—and in any case, really—all my gift-giving juice goes straight to the wrapping paper.

A fun, cheap, and simple way to add a lot of love to your gift is to personalize it with special wrapping paper, which you can easily find by looking up “[friend’s hobby/obsession/crush] wrapping paper.”

For instance, I got Arnold Schwarzenegger wrapping paper for my dear Mr. Mari’s last birthday, and ballerinas for a little princess.

It’s just a nice touch to show that you really thought about the recipient at hand, even if they’ll have to settle for a bar of soap from your gift closet.

BEING

Tending to your own garden

I am so often overwhelmed by the weight of the world. One of my antidotes is to think about what I’m doing to “tend to my own garden”—the people right in front of me, the community in which I live.

The other day I saw a barista at my local coffee shop wearing a specific watch that my husband owns. I told him, “My husband has that same watch!”

He then told me that my dear Mr. Mari GAVE IT TO HIM when they were discussing watches; Mr. Mari ran back home to get this special watch and give it to this barista (whose name neither one of us know).

Because I was a barista for 100 years, Mr. Mari has a soft spot for those behind the coffee counter; “I imagine each one as a younger you,” he tells me.

The newly-watched barista told me he didn’t have words to match how generous and outlandish the gift was, but I know what that’s like.

When I was a barista, a couple customers were outrageously generous to me—in the form of a luxurious dinner out, or symphony tickets, or a $100 bill when I was going on a trip.

I’ve never forgotten any of it, and these gestures have shaped how I’ve lived ever since.

Mr. Mari, bless his heart, was “born with a silver spoon” as I frequently remind him :) and never had to work in food or retail (imagine!).

But he appreciates those beautiful beings in my past who were so kind to me—having no reason to be—and is paying it forward in his own “garden,” at his own coffee shop.

When the weight of the world brings me down, I try to take small (or large!) actions in my immediate surroundings to bring a bit of peace and joy in my own garden. You never know what people will remember, and how it might affect the shape of their (or their spouse’s!) life.

Signing off now, with this precious gift of an absolutely horrifying photo of me, sick at my mom’s house, shouting “STICK THE LANDING!” at the TV: