No one is coming to help you

It's hard to describe where we moved with any kind of precision. Lela tried to roast me by calling it the suburbs but that is inaccurate (first problem is lack of any "urb.") Our apartment is the first floor of a semi-renovated farmhouse, pictured above, where an old-timey banging screen door, rutted driveway, and haunted basement meet granite countertops and modern appliances. Across the street is the old county fairgrounds, a baseball field, and many acres of corn. We drove around our neighborhood the other day and almost ran into a hunter, rifle drawn.

We're also a 12-minute walk from a super-progressive college town, where the kombucha flows freely and there's a sex tavern for medieval LARP-ers. Have you been to Berkeley or Boulder or Asheville? Take one of those and shrink it way down - you've got Northampton. In 2023 it was affectionately labeled the "lesbian capital of the world" by my old college paper; in the '90s it was derisively called "Lesbianville, USA" by the National Enquirer.

I grew up near Northampton, but this is the first time I've lived around here in decades. I'm noticing that what used to feel very hip and progressive feels a bit goofy and self-serious now. I'm also noticing that this town's Portlandia vibes are overlaid on the foundation of a semi-rural, working-class town (current house prices notwithstanding). Abby and I are appreciatively clocking the least hip parts of this place: the old-school tire shop near our house, the chain bagel place that always plays country music, the cute little airport that gives biplane flying lessons. There's also tons of farming, which I adore (obvi).​

The subject line of this newsletter comes from our new hot yoga studio, which is probably better than the orgasm cult we left behind — we shall see.

The classes are a great workout, but 1) the aggro snake symbolism (actual sticker above) 2) the neg strategies of the studio founder and 3) the fawning energy of our classmates all make Abby and I uneasy. There's a dark nugget somewhere in this studio, I just haven't found it yet (actual guru alert). One of the teachers said, "No one is coming to help you" which is right up there with "Join or die" in the list of cheerful mantras.

Well anyway, Merry Christmas!

xo,

Jesse

Back in Harlem, I would buy a bottle of hand soap like once a week at the surplus grocer, a weirdly specific hoarding. I framed it like a prank, but I'm not sure who the joke was on. "Cool Jesse, put it with all the other bottles." But now I'm experiencing something like vindication, because we're dipping into my supplies out of need! Not sure if anyone sells soap around here.

These are the largest tortillas, way too big for my breakfast tacos. I've taken to cutting them in half, then making crude, semicircle-shaped tacos. Awkward in the hand, they are - I often slosh out bits of salsa or chorizo. Not sure if anyone sells tortillas around here.

This brand is mostly known for its high-end sunflower seeds (why are there so many brands??) These cashews are still serviceable but how did they get so soft? Do cashews turn into moss if left untended? Many questions. Not sure if anyone sells nuts around here.