Not Caring and Sharing

Letting go of what no longer matters. (Thanks, Age!) Plus, Tim Chalamet, Big League Chew, and more.

Jan 27, 2023

Chaturungas.

For those who don’t practice yoga or know Sanskrit, these are push-ups.

And they were one of the first things that came to mind when chatting with my aunt recently about the things that are no longer important to me as a result of age and time and general maturity.

Back in New York, when I was first forming my yoga practice in the early aughts, I attended class almost daily in attempt to land crow, a twisted, binded lunge, or the coveted headstand. And I loooooved chaturungas. Whenever a teacher offered an extra vinyasa, I’d take that flow like my life depended on it. Down I went to build up that arm strength, back straight as a board, shoulders aligned.

Nowadays, though? I’m a knees/chest/chin-er. Way easier on all the joints and just generally a more pleasant pose. Sure, I’ll occasionally throw in a chat just cause I still can. But I no longer want or feel the need to. Accepting this feels nice.

Some other things I’ve “let go of” as a result of…let’s call it wisdom? Taking public transport to or from the airport. Unless I am traveling realllllly light, the only suitcase-shlepping I want to endure is the necessary one of descending or mounting my six flights. (The “con” to this, aside from the price, is having to inevitably endure speaking French with the Uber driver who will, without fail, want to discuss all the things when I am bleary-eyed and jetlagged.)

I’ve also recently decided that I deserve a clean house scrubbed by someone that isn’t myself—especially after I’ve rented it. (Renting itself being something I wish were no longer important. But, alas, there’s the issue of my small writer’s salary.) I almost always hire a pro to clean prior to a guest’s stay and work the fee into the charges. But then I clean myself upon returning to save the money. After this recent 10+ hour flight from LA, (and subsequent bleary-eyed and jetlagged chat with my French Uber driver), I’ve decided that coming to home to a clean house and a made bed is a new non-negotiable. Call it first-world fortune or adulting. Either way, I’m into it.

What else? I don’t wash my hair as often. Definitely wear less makeup. Am trying to say “no” without the guilt of disappointing whomever is asking. (If that’s you, I’m sorry, I can’t. Don’t hate me.) Oh, and drinking. It’s so fun! Wine, especially, goes down so easy! But I’m no longer sure it’s always worth the money, calories, and inevitable feeling of absolute shit the next day. I’m not calling it complete quits. It’s just that my intake has come a long way from ordering vodka sodas with a twist while wearing the boobiest “going out top” I could find at Wet Seal.

Speaking of fashion, sneakers! I definitely recall professing that I’d never give up wearing heels. Like, ever. As a shortie, I felt I’d rather tolerate the pain for some extra height and the confidence that comes with it. But those who know me know my sneaker collection is mighty, and while I still love getting dressed up, if I can do so while keeping my already-flat-feet flat I will. Hence, I’m digging that platforms are back. I’ll take the lift sans the arch, please and thanks!

I know what you’re thinking: Duh, Sara. This is what happens! Congrats on successfully making it to…oof can it be???…middle age! But these self-discoveries are little lessons in perserverance and acceptance and, yes, they are universal, which makes them all the more important to share. Cause what is life if we can’t commiserate-slash-celebrate our thresholds ensemble? :)

So, what about you? What are the things you care more or less about today than you did, say, 15 or 20 years ago? Pop it in the comments below. Bon week-end, friends. xx —Sara, the Knees/Chest/Chin-er

Clickable*

Have a query? There’s a Reddit rabbithole for that. | The New Yorker
“How you look can’t change what’s coming for you.” | The Cut
A wild, winning ride aboard the Orient Express. | (Me for) AFAR
Like Easter Eggs? You’re a "conspiracy theorist with popcorn.” | T Mag
“Life is too short for…” This made me LOL. | The New Yorker
How to get your ambition back. | Fortune
Finally, people get why us expats hate Emily in Paris. | The NY Times
“I kept going back to Noma because [it] was extraordinary.” | Esquire
Some reservation-making tips… | The New Yorker

*While I obviously support subscribing to media outlets, I recently discovered this “Remove Paywall” link that enables you to skirt around them if need be. We can’t possibly support them all—even I don’t pay for every outlet, even those I write for!—so hopefully that enables you to read as many clickables as you want. You’re welcome. :)

Watchable

If my Dad is a cross between two famous personalities it’s Larry David and Eugene Levy. The latter is appearing in a new Apple+ series called “The Reluctant Traveler,” which is SO my Dad. (Once you get him home, though, he’ll claim to have had the absolute best time while away—much to the surprise of those who traveled with him.) Can’t wait to see this one and hope he watches, too!

Speaking of Apple+, I’m not quite sure if this teaser is a joke or just really good marketing for a new series starring Timothée Chalamet. But as a fan of the hunky 27-year-old, I’d watch whatever they serve up on him!

While I mostly find it distracting to watch an English-language series with subtitles—and let me tell you, everyone’s doing it!—there have been a few times recently where I needed the closed captioning (The Banshees of Inisherin, Mrs. Harris Goes to Paris, and “Jack Ryan” to name a few), which is why this explainer is so funny. What about you? Sous-titres (subtitles) ou sans?

Currently Overthinking…

…my sneaker size (yet again)…and how long is too long to wait to cook raw beef…

Souvenir: Big League Chew

While reading this article on Tar writer/director Todd Fields, I was (quite randomly) reminded of Big League Chew gum. Remember the shredded pieces that you were encouraged to stuff in your mouth all at once to chew like tobacco? I loved the grape flavor. But can we talk about how they got away with saying there were “man-sized wads” on the packaging?