mimi smartypants
Seriously, though: what's with the penguins?

trapped, nay, ENSNARED

A while ago I had some of that Aesop hand soap that is something like forty dollars a bottle. Used it up. Refilled the bottle (it’s a nice bottle, not forty dollars nice, but nice enough) with plain old fragrance-free Seventh Generation and did not really think much about doing that, except just now I was like I wonder if there should be a note in the bathroom for guests to not get too excited about the soap. I don’t have that many guests. But let’s say I threw a huge party or something, I could inadvertently cause a dip in Aesop’s sales (probably not, but theoretically) as handwasher after handwasher thought, “What the hell, this brand is nothing special. Notes of rosemary, my ass.” It could be a much smaller-scale version of the time I personally flipped a video store’s entire porn inventory to be mostly anal.

RECENTS

I had to go downtown for a meeting. I was getting a glass of water near the breakfast buffet and a prominent cardiothoracic surgeon said (to her next-in-line friend, not to me) “I just want to warn you, the scrambled eggs are VERY soft.” I do not know if that was important information to the friend or not. 

I go to the office so infrequently that at that meeting I had the strange thought that “these shoes have never been downtown.” Like those Instagram videos of people carrying their pets around and showing them the freezer or whatever. Walk my shoes places and show them the sights. 

This summer is going to be all about biking to errands. I drew a little mental line on the map and will try to bike to anything that is seven miles or less one way and that doesn’t involve purchasing heavy things. I have a bike basket and a rack with extremely cute shopping bags and a helmet with a flashing light and I have biked to have breakfast with my friends! To my favorite grocery store (previously also frequented by Steve Albini, RIP) which I would shop at for its soundtrack alone! To the dispensary to pick up my edible preorders! To the eye doctor, where I purchased Geri Kellman-esque glasses that I am still not entirely sure about! 

RECOMMENDED BY ME

NOT having perspective. There is a type of writing I find a little annoying, and it seems to have become worse with the end of blogs and the advent of Substack-type email things, and that is the infrequent essays that kind of vaguely tie a season of life to the season of the year, or touch on gigantic topics like grief or growing older or growth and insight. You know, the “emerging,” “unfurling,” “radical resting,” nugget-of-wisdom type of writing. I would rather read (and write) oodles of minutia about everyday snacks and interesting garbage seen on the street. Stop trying to be so beautiful all the time!

Having upstairs and downstairs versions of important things. Upstairs scissors and downstairs scissors. Upstairs antacids and downstairs antacids. Upstairs and downstairs phone chargers, of course. Upstairs notebook and downstairs notebook. White vinegar by the laundry and white vinegar in the pantry. (“Upstairs” and “downstairs” here are not to be taken literally! One-level people, just do yourself a favor and have multiples of important stuff by the bed/by the couch, or whichever places you spend most of your time.) 

Buying things off season even if it makes you feel like a walking Hint From Heloise because holy wow, the sales. This is why I have two new cashmere sweaters in late May. 

Welch’s Fruit Snacks. I love these bastards although if I were in charge there would be no grape.  

Compliments, although don’t think too hard about them. I was recently told I had beautiful skin. I was pleased at the time but now that I type it I wonder if the person intends to taxidermy me. (Was there an implied “for your age” embedded in the compliment, and do I care? Absolutely and absolutely not!) 

Related: putting a shitload of oil on my face. That’s the “secret” to my age-appropriate skin. That and a product from Naturium called “Barrier Bounce,” which is a crazy name. Just bonkers. I really don’t know what they were thinking with “Barrier Bounce.” It looks fancy but you can get it at Target. An even cheaper thing I like is from the makeup brand e.l.f. I think that stands for “eyes, lips, face” (stupid) but of course it spells “elf” and the skincare spinoff is called “e.l.f. Skin.” And the product is called “Holy Hydration.” And whenever I see the tube my brain yells, “Holy hydration! This shit’s made of elf skin!” INTRUSIVE THOUGHTS FTW. 

My new hack for getting things done: telling myself I’m only going to do part of the thing. The undone bit then feels stupid so I just do the whole thing. 

Movies recently seen, four insane and one not: 

A movie from Spain called “Coffee Table.” A very horrifying thing happens and the filmmakers can’t quite decide how they feel about it; it is sort of like ohgodsohorrifying and also sort of detached. It reminded me of an extended Black Mirror episode.  

Norwegian movie called “The Trip” (note: there are several other movies called “The Trip,” just FYI if you look for it), which is one of those I’m going to kill you/No, I’m going to kill YOU/other people show up to kill everyone. It goes on a bit too long with the insane violence, IMO, but maybe you’re in the mood for that. 

“Sheep’s Clothing,” which I guess would be best classified as psychological horror, deals with religious coercion and power differentials; slightly tedious in places but overall thumbs up. 

“Strait-Jacket,” made by William Castle in 1964 and starring Joan Crawford doing literally the most acting anyone has ever done. Even by Joan Crawford standards! Strait-Jacket is four years post-Psycho and is more or less a Psycho rip-off. It takes place mostly on a farm and I appreciate the recurring movie character of a creepy “hired hand” (see also The Bad Seed). You know, normal people work on farms too! Not all farmhands are creepy filthy bad-teeth visible-pit-stains shambling wrecks who stand too close to women and make menacing gestures with pitchforks. (Or at least I assume not. I do not have too much farm experience, admittedly.) 

“Challengers,” in the theater, which was just fun. I had fun. 

Books have been more of a mixed bag. I have read about 60 books so far in 2024 and only really found four to be extraordinary:

My college kid is home and working at a real-deal paid internship, in his chosen field of work, of which I am very proud in case you couldn’t tell. It is three days in office and two at home, and my guy underestimated the public transit exhaustion for the first week, although he seems to have the hang of things now. He even asked me, “How did you commute like this every day for 25 years?” I don’t know, son, it seems like a faraway dream now that I am comfortably ensconced in my soft pants, surrounded by candles and the absence of small talk, editing away with a cat on my lap. (A better, more mommy-martyrdom answer would have been “I did it for youuuuuu” points to your six semesters of college)

PRAYER FOR HUMANITY

I have coffee with a friend of mine—one I have known since I was 13 years old—a few times a month. It serves a lot of nice purposes. Our friendship has always been conversation-based (the hours-of-phone-calls kind), he also does not drink alcohol anymore (he’s been in the land of Not for more like six years to my two), and he has degrees in philosophy and divinity so shit gets metaphysical sometimes. As an atheist I am not sure this counts as “prayer” but the other day I shared my little going-to-bed, yoga-class-influenced chant, which goes like this:

May we be connected

may we be happy

may we be peaceful

may we be safe

may we be well

namaste

Sometimes I also add a wish that Donald Trump will drop dead, because I truly think that would be best. Does that negate the namaste? My philosopher friend was undecided. 

—mimi smartypants dot exe has stopped working.