Peak Summer! Peak Existentialism!
Ode to August, with all its contradictions. Plus, Burning Man, Fashion Plates, and more.
If it’s possible for me to love/hate a month more, it’d be August. We’re only a week in now, but my reasons remain plentiful, contradictory, and the same as they have been for as long as I can remember:
Love: It’s my birthday month! Yay! A time to celebrate life and all the incredible people, places, and experiences that make it up.
Hate: It’s my birthday month! Friends are rarely around/in town, and it’s often on me to figure out what to cobble together with who, or do something solo like a mini getaway or simple like taking a spin class and getting my photo taken all sweaty post-ride. I suppose deciding for myself makes sense, seeing as it is my birthday and I have opinions. But it’d be nice to be spoiled for choice/taken care of in the revelry department! The fam always shows up in some way (won’t ever forget this), but also they probably want a break?
Love: It’s peak summer! Cicadas. Shorts. Tomatoes. Bare feet. Arnold Palmers. Thunderstorms. Corn.
Hate: It’s peak summer! Mosquitoes. Humidity. Frizz. Mosquitoes. Plus, you know what’s on the other side of peak summer? Fall. Which I do love/love. But I’ll take melting soft serve while salty post-beach over a pumpkin-spiced latte, seat warmers, and foliage any day.
Love: The days are still long, so waking early with the sun is easy and a delight.
Hate: The struggle and desire to stay up past 9 p.m., when it has only just turned dark, is real/non-existent.
Still, today’s August does look different from Augusts of the past. I am now officially ensconced in my own apartment in Brooklyn after two years of “the in between,” post-Paris. This means, rather than touching down at JFK on August 1 for les vacances, aka a monthlong summer hurrah in the States, I live here now. This also means I no longer have to contend with the opening and closing times of the laverie or boulangerie, not to mention the stifling temperatures sans air con, which this past year in France have soared to scary new heights — far beyond what my petite apartment on the 6th floor of le Rue Paul Bert under an actual hot tin roof could’ve handled.
The more time ticks by since my Paris life, the harder it is for me to remember the intricate details of it, which wrings out my heart like it’s a wet bathing suit. It’s like that Gotye song, “Somebody That I Used to Know,” but instead it’d be titled “Some Place I Used to Live.”
Thankfully, I can still never remember the English word for hortensias whenever I’m trying to think of it (hydrangeas!), so the tether remains impenetrable. For now, at least.
This month will forever be a flip-flop month for me in mind, body, and spirit. A month where I’m literally and figuratively between here and there. Between love and hate. (OK, dislike.) Between seasons. Between ages. Between the beach and the city. Between moon phases and mindsets. Between school/work and vacation. A month that reminds me you can miss a life you willingly changed, celebrate where you are while mourning where you’ve been, and hold many feelings at once. In other words: the perfect month for overthinking everything and anything, and continuing to lean into who I am and who I’m still becoming. Bon week-end, mes amies. Glad you’re here. Especially in August. xx — Sara
Also overthinking this week…
…when/where/how to see The Odyssey…whether to leave my A/C on while away and at what temperature (ed. note: went with yes to protect the plants, and 80 degrees)…where/when to see Bleachers on tour…
Clickable:
Let girls be girls…and boy scouts. | The NY Times (gift link)
On preparedness and fans in Rome. | Air Mail
Feelings about Tony, the movie and the man, and ‘variations on grief.’ | Bon Appetit
Another smart diatribe on being ‘The Single Friend.’ | Natalie Catalina
How, exactly, recycling works. (No, you don’t have to clean out all the PB!) | WaPo (gift link)
When a bot writes your biography. | The NY Times (gift link)
Making the case for champagne at any time. | Air Mail
Come on, Coast Guard. Get it together. | The NY Times (gift link)
Watchable: ‘The Man Will Burn’
Last week I devoured the four-part docu series, The Man Will Burn, all about Burning Man, which I learned has been going on since 1986. Each episode was fascinating, and while they answered so many questions, they also brought up new ones, which I immediately texted to my friend who went a couple of years ago. They included:
Did you see Robot Heart? Answer: Yes
Did you shower? Answer: Once. (“Mostly baby wipes. You don’t feel dirty in the dust.”)
Did you bring bikes? Answer: Yes
Did you sleep at all? Answer: Yes. (“Mostly at night, but next time I would sleep more during the day and explore more at night/sunrise.”)
Did you bang the chime and roll around on the ground to make “dust angels” (which they urge “virgin Burners” to do upon entry)? Answer: Yes
ICYMI
Croissants, Fresh Greens, and Natural Wine in Clinton Hill
French Friday is a series for Francophiles and/or anyone with an opinion and good taste by moi, a former almost-Parisienne for nine years, and other almost-or-actual-Frenchies that know their ‘oof’ from their ‘bof.’ The goal? To rate venues outside France on their Frenchness. Plus, an ‘en plus’ section with like-minded recommendations in France itself.
Do you have a place you think I should rate 🥖 for French Friday? Let me know!
Souvenir: Fashion Plates
I watched The Devil Wears Prada 2 on the plane to LA this week (LOVED IT), and it reminded me of this ‘game’ I used to play when I was a kid that involved colored pencils, mix-and-match stencils, and some serious shading to create my own fashun lewks. Who else “played” this one?
Thank you thank you for sharing my post!!! 🤍
You captured August so well! In my work life I was a counselor in a school system. August meant summer was over. It also meant I would get to know new students and greet old teacher friends. Always the tug and pull of leisure vs. work. A month of contradictions. Thanks for your well stated thoughts