Week 10: Blue and green

Hi, friends. It’s one of those weeks when I think: Move and Groove? Really? Why didn’t I choose a different name for this newsletter, something like Halfhearted Hustler Tries Not to Hate Everything or 35 Weeks of Just Barely Managing to Not Completely Succumb to Utter Despair or Actually, Even Though She’s Pretty Blunt, Mama Never Said There’d Be Days Quite Like This?

A friend asked me today how I’m doing. I told her I felt green (a little sick) and blue (more than a little sad). We talked about the constant feeling that we should be doing more. For everyone. Tonight is no exception.

I hope you’re holding your people close, and letting other people hold you.

I hope you are taking the time you need to grieve.

And if you are numbing yourself to the realities of this moment, I hope you’re doing that less than you are actually feeling the painful feelings and finding people to work through them with. I hope you’re eating and sleeping better and mustering more bravery and dragging yourself to the gym and meditating or praying more than I have been.

That said, if sugar is one of your coping mechanisms, like it is mine, I hope you set an alarm on your phone right now so you remember to go buy leftover Halloween candy on sale tomorrow.

A brief love letter

So last week I go to lunch with a few people, some of whom I know better than others. At the pan-Asian restaurant, we smile at the many cuisines represented on the table: two Thai noodle dishes, a giant sushi roll, a poke bowl, and Janett orders both a bento box and two pieces of sashimi. Later, when we’ve had some good conversation but don’t feel done, the busy wait staff visit our table to ask who needs boxes, leaning over us to gather plates and wipe things down. This is the lunch rush; the menu didn’t list desserts. Janett asks gently with her wide eyes: I’d like one more thing, could you please bring us a side of edamame? The wait staff bring the bowl a few minutes later. And so instead of just signing our checks and parting ways, we have a communal last course. We refrain from checking our phones a bit longer and we sit with the awkward lulls a bit longer and we linger and laugh, all the while having something to do with our hands. We leave more sated. I love this about Janett: there is always room for more on — and at — the table. There is a commitment to tasting everything, to hearing everyone, and to being here now.

Postscript

This is my last email before Election Day. If you are able to vote, please listen to Roxane Gay (You’re Disillusioned. That’s Fine. Vote Anyway, NYT) and show up on Tuesday or vote early if you can. Don’t take chances.

Because (via Chani Nicholas on Instagram):

And if you are a forward-thinking person who lives in Chicagoland, and you plan to go vote in person on Tuesday, save a screen shot of the image below. It’s Prerna’s list of judges to nix, from her ridiculously informative Instagram story. She is a treasure and we’re lucky to have her.

Finally, I’m hosting a phone bank on Sunday.

We will use scripts to call supportive voters in Michigan to ensure they have a game plan in place to vote for Sean McCann (who as of tonight is in a statistical tie with his opponent) and Alberta Griffin. Learn about both candidates here. The better Dems do in Michigan this year, the better the playing field will be in this battleground state in 2020. If you’re in Chicago and want to join, get in touch for details.

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Reminder: If you’re reading this, it’s either because you subscribed yourself or someone forwarded it to you (in which case you can subscribe at julia.substack.com). This is email #10 of 35.