There was a time, not so long ago, when I was guided by a restless timer. Decades of my life were spent moving every 1-3 years. Did you know I lived in Las Cruces, New Mexico? Mauston, Wisconsin? Easthampton, Massachusetts? Even Brooklyn.

But now, Abby and I find ourselves deeply burrowed in. We've built so much life infrastructure around our apartment and neighborhood and grocery store.

For starters, this spacious and dilapidated apartment is perfect for the hoarding-adjacent. Too many books, too many sweaters, too many postcards, too many totes. (Lifestyle heroes.) Our dog lives upstairs, our cat is in the basement. We get our own bedrooms, plus a third one for visitors. The kitchen is roomy, and there's a small back patio.

I take just one train down to my office in Chinatown. There's a high-fashion hot yoga studio down there, and a sweet little studio near our house. Abby is on a track team in Central Park, within running distance of our apartment. She also runs up to Yankee Stadium to practice on their track, and walks to her Crossfit gym — loaded with firefighters, cops, and nurses — in the Bronx.

There's a meme about people over 30 paying silly city rents only to stay in and watch streaming TV — couldn't be us. Abby and I love the broader city, for all the annoying and obvious reasons one loves new york city. Without belaboring the point, we actually do take advantage of the art and food and people here. It continues to thrill us, regularly.

And of course, the surplus grocer is a massive part of our lifestyle, hilariously so. Our modes of consumption have been fundamentally shaped by constant access to a roulette wheel of groceries both trashy and posh. I visit the store every day, sometimes more than once; it's embedded in my very psyche.

**

Leaving this city would require upending virtually everything we've built our lives around. But in this moment of national tumult, when reality seems less immutable than once was imagined, it's a perfect time to consider shaking the Etch a Sketch.

xo,

Jesse (may not be around)

Wonderful cultural artifact - event water from the Vans Warped Tour! I got so excited my hands were shaking. Didn't need to buy it though.

This blatant commercialization runs contrary to everything the Minions stand for.

Just this morning one of the door guys pulled out his phone to show me a picture of a hot babe in his DMs. Not a very realistic photo, if I'm honest. Was either filtered to the moon or created by AI. Still, I gave him the well-understood "not too shabby" dudeface (eyebrows up, lips slightly pursed). This guy has always been nice to me; it felt like a reasonable courtesy.

Then he said, "I like white ladies, no black ladies!" and I wasn't sure the right response. Went with a sage nod.

This was the first Red Robin product I've ever consumed, and I think I did it dirty. See, it got kind of forgotten at the bottom of our cube freezer for months, maybe years. And when I finally put it them the toaster oven on a recent burger night, all the breading fell off the onions, combining an unpleasant mouthfeel with the taste of freezer burn. Ate every bit, like a punishment.

Two pounds of perfectly cooked meat right here, no notes. The only modification I made was putting it in a hot skillet for ~5 minutes, for an extra touch of crisp. I bought 4 boxes - now we have a foundation for tacos and sandwiches until our hearts give out. (Darby do you want carnitas tacos say yes)

In a Haul first, this quiche is in the oven RIGHT NOW. A fun fact is that this Sara Lee-owned company doesn't pretend Pierre was ever a real chef, his name just embodies a spirit of quality something something. Also this was intended to be a foodservice quiche, so I expect to be transported to a Hampton Inn continental breakfast.

Abby decided that the mint tea in this medley is an unwelcome presence, so I suspect this will be taking up prime fridge real estate for a few months.

We've been calling these "gentrified Doritos."

Feel like this mascot runs a bible study class, can't quite explain why.