"Sunset Boulevard" in London: Glenn Close is Amazing, That's All That Mattersby Randi / April 5, 2016
There’s an exciting new pop-up to look out for, London! The Vegan Nigerian, a.k.a. Tomi Makanjuola, held her first vegan pop-up dinner last night at La Suite West Hotel in Bayswater, a.k.a. west AF but worth it, and with any luck it’ll be the first of many such events, if not the prequel to a café or restaurant, although pop-ups do have the benefit of seeming so cool and exclusive and everyone knows I like to pretend I’m cool. This meal had some kinks to work out, and there is room for improvement, but it showed so much potential for the future and I can’t wait to eat more.
2 minutes in and I already bent the restaurant’s flyer on the table
The dinner was held at La Suite West’s restaurant called Raw, a vegan-friendly place where I believe Tomi is a chef and they have a vegan English breakfast (the food not tea) that rightly doesn’t cost more than the non-vegan ones and so a trip there is in order. It was nice to have the fancy space available for this and not be in someone’s living room; it made it all seem very professional. A hilarious waitress came around with water and spilled mine and then told us how nervous she was, and we immediately said let’s all be friends since we’re clearly kindred spirits. A great start (not sarcasm). Then boxes of mango and pineapple juice were brought to our table (but no additional glasses; maybe they expected people to choose between water or juice, and like hell if I’m gonna ever limit my liquids!) which was kind of adorable. The wait for the first course was somewhat long, so having whole boxes of juice per table really helped the time pass/contribute to a terrible sugar rush.
At least it’s not the dumbest time I ever ordered a salad, not by a long shot.
For the first course, you had to choose between the vegetable peppersoup and the okra and sweet potato salad. Me, being dumb, I thought “Oh I’ve had vegetable soup for dinner for like 3 nights in a row, who would want it again” and got the salad. It was fine, but I tried my friend’s soup and it was SPECTAC. So I chose wrongly and I’ll never forget the regret. No just kidding, the salad was fine, a little misleading as it was mostly warm sweet potato chunks with very nicely seasoned okra. Two foods I love, and the okra was really good, but it was mostly sweet potato, and pretty plain at that. Like a whole big steamed sweet potato cut up on a plate with some okra. I may have just gotten unlucky with my plating favoring the potato more than okra and maybe others had a more balanced mix. It was fine, but that much sweet potato needed a sauce or a marinade maybe. Or just lesser amounts. Fine, though.
MAGICAL SOUP OF FAERYS
But that soup was really fantastic, a stand-out. The first thing I thought was that I need to find out how to make it because I want it for my next possible dinner, and I want a lot of it and I don’t want to have to steal it from my friend. It was a clear broth, which was unexpected (you hear pepper soup, you think like pureed red pepper or something (gross), but the one-word version of peppersoup tells you otherwise or something), with a mix of some chopped soup vegetables in there (potato and zucchini I think I saw? I don’t know I didn’t eat it), and then the whole thing was freaking doused in pepper, so much that it burned my throat going down, and chili pepper I assume, and of course other spices and yes I need to do some serious research before I try to make it myself, and anyway it was glorious. I feel like even though it burned so much, people who don’t really like spicy food would still enjoy it because the flavor was so sophisticated and interesting. Or maybe that’s a dumb thing to say, but it’s also dumb not to like spicy food. I’m really joking. I really can’t believe how much I’m going on about a freaking vegetable soup like I’ve lost my mind but my goodness, it was so good.
We also got a little basket of bread and the bread was good. I can say bread in Russian now. In semester 2 of this $!*(#)&$%^(!#*) language and I can say bread, at least.
Passing Strange
Choice was over after this course, which I appreciated, having made the wrong choice so early in the game and having lost all confidence in my ability to choose from that point on. Don’t know how I’m going to get dressed tomorrow. The main course was coconut rice with efo riro, or spinach stew, with baked plantain. I tried to make coconut rice once from a recipe online. It used a lot of full fat coconut milk, and so might have been good for a rice pudding, but it was too sweet for me for savory food. Because of this bad experience, I was hesitant about the pairing here. Of course, this being a professional chef, the coconut rice was just subtle enough to tell something cool was going on and formed a great complement to the stew. I would have liked more stew to balance the stew-to-rice ratio (my plate was clean when I finished, no traces of sauce, which seems odd when you’ve just eaten a stew), but what we had was very nice. You know how most spinach stews, or curries for the most part, feel very heavy in their spice profile, like everything is dark and deep and low on the chart of some unknown quality, like just totally warm but heavy? I don’t know but anyway, this one somehow felt bright, which was really cool. It had all the interesting warmth you want from a stew yet accomplished it without the heavy tones. The plate was encircled by smears of a delicious and thick red pepper sauce, a great addition to the mix. And then the baked plantain slices were placed on top. Plantains are great, and although these seemed a little dry from what I’m used to (probably because they were baked not fried), they were still plantains, so, good. In a nice gesture from the kitchen, the kind that makes people happy because everyone likes free unexpected stuff, we also got an extra bowl of plantains for the table which I think I had more than my share of, sorry tablemates.
By this point I think we were already two hours into the dinner, which is extremely slow. I have a feeling the waitstaff just comprised friends of the chef who volunteered, and it was the first such pop-up, so delays are understandable but definitely something to work on. You don’t want people getting antsy. Luckily, they put a whole pitcher of water (cucumber water!) down for the table, so that was a spectacular move. People who work in restaurants or know people that do: ALWAYS give a table a jug of water, or at least the option to have one, ESPECIALLY if your place uses those bullshit glasses that fit about half an ounce of liquid in them and after every sip you need to flag down someone for more water but since this is London they never come. Those glasses are bullshit and should never have been made legal. So, pitchers are great, and every restaurant in the history and future of the world to ever exist should learn this.
a non chocolate dessert that I enjoyed
Here is the same food pictured directly above just now unnecessarily shown from another angle I’m like a real food blogger now
Lastly, we had dessert, because that’s usually when people have dessert, except for one really strange fashion editor I worked for one summer in NYC who had dessert before her meals. She was strange for other reasons. Anyway, dessert was apple and papaya crumble with malt and vanilla coconut cream. We had some disagreement at our table as to whether the coconut cream would be ‘malt and vanilla’ flavored or whether the malt was a separate ingredient. I thought the latter and I was right, which restored some of my faith in my ability to make decisions. I think the malt aspect was a tiny bit of molasses-like syrup dotted on the crumble, or it could have been the flavor of granola-like topping. We can never be sure, though, because malt isn’t actually a real thing. It’s just something American candy makers and old-timey ice cream shoppes would advertise as a way to charge an extra 5c but it was really a lie. Malt is a lie. No I’m just joking I’m sure it’s a real thing I just have no idea what it is because I never liked those malted milk balls as a kid and I would never order a malted milkshake when a perfectly good chocolate milkshake was perfectly good without it. So I just don’t know. Anyway, dessert might have been the best part of the meal. Well no the soup that I didn’t have was my favorite, but the crumble was next. We were surprised at how well papaya worked to break up the apple flavor, especially because baked papaya seemed to have a lot more flavor than raw papaya. A wonderful combination. On the side was a separate cup of perfect coconut cream, like an actual cup. It was so much! It was probably too much but I will never look a gift coconut cream in the mouth. It was so decadent and smooth and light, the perfect consistency and flavor. Coconut cream is RG.
Before we returned to the somehow freezing again weather, Tomi’s friend made a speech that was the cutest, sweetest thing except when he said he thought vegan food was terrible at one point in his life, before her. Get a new story, omnivores! Y’all are a broken record! No but it was really sweet and it just seemed like all the guests at this first pop-up were nice people who wanted to support this nice person. There were some flaws but for the first go, it showed so much potential and I’m excited to see (eat) what’s to come.
VEGAN NIGERIAN POP-UP AT RAW
Water speed: Took a bit to get water, but when it came, it came in a big pitcher. That’s the way uh huh uh huh.
Service: I’ll give a pass since they were friends volunteering I think, and that’s super nice. One thing to learn next time is to bring the food for everyone at one table at once. Guy would come out with four plates, give two to the table next to us, and then two to our table, leaving another two at our table to wait for like 10 minutes for the next batch, and we aren’t heathens so we’d wait, and it was supes awk.
Bathrooms: The bathrooms are down a hall of the hotel (very close to the space) and SUPER DARK. Like, I didn’t know how to exit the first time. It was kind of scary dark, use the flashlight on your phone dark. I also got stuck in the stall once because I was pushing out but it’s a pull-in door. Dumb.
Food: Very enjoyable and shows a lot of potential.
Bonus: New nice-seeming person to look out for!
Water speed: Took a bit to get water, but when it came, it came in a big pitcher. That’s the way uh huh uh huh.
Service: I’ll give a pass since they were friends volunteering I think, and that’s super nice. One thing to learn next time is to bring the food for everyone at one table at once. Guy would come out with four plates, give two to the table next to us, and then two to our table, leaving another two at our table to wait for like 10 minutes for the next batch, and we aren’t heathens so we’d wait, and it was supes awk.
Bathrooms: The bathrooms are down a hall of the hotel (very close to the space) and SUPER DARK. Like, I didn’t know how to exit the first time. It was kind of scary dark, use the flashlight on your phone dark. I also got stuck in the stall once because I was pushing out but it’s a pull-in door. Dumb.
Food: Very enjoyable and shows a lot of potential.
Bonus: New nice-seeming person to look out for!
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Final Meal of 2014: Excellent Food & Great Value at Manna, London
Thank goodness for Manna! It is, to be extremely lame and dorky, from heaven. For the most part.
Although England is where veganism was formed, where the Vegan Society was founded, and where like everyone cool wants to live, its biggest city is kind of weak when it comes to vegan food. It’s easy to be vegetarian here — restaurants still think it’s necessary to mark options that are ‘vegetarian’ instead of marking the much more necessary ‘vegan’ (seriously, you can tell from descriptions and names what is vegetarian, without fail). But, while there are many wonderful vegan options at omni restaurants, wonderful all-vegan restaurants are few and far between.
Despite the dearth, the all-vegan Manna, in Primrose Hill, London, would still be the best we have to offer even if tons of vegan restaurants existed here. The food is fantastic, mainly comfort food in large portions. So freaking good. And aside from a few service issues aaaaand a few kitchen hygiene issues (we’ll get there), there’s little else to complain about.
Although England is where veganism was formed, where the Vegan Society was founded, and where like everyone cool wants to live, its biggest city is kind of weak when it comes to vegan food. It’s easy to be vegetarian here — restaurants still think it’s necessary to mark options that are ‘vegetarian’ instead of marking the much more necessary ‘vegan’ (seriously, you can tell from descriptions and names what is vegetarian, without fail). But, while there are many wonderful vegan options at omni restaurants, wonderful all-vegan restaurants are few and far between.
Despite the dearth, the all-vegan Manna, in Primrose Hill, London, would still be the best we have to offer even if tons of vegan restaurants existed here. The food is fantastic, mainly comfort food in large portions. So freaking good. And aside from a few service issues aaaaand a few kitchen hygiene issues (we’ll get there), there’s little else to complain about.
Husband and I ate at Manna on New Years Eve, when they offered a special set menu: 7 courses (5 legit, 2 more like extras), aperitifs, wine, coffee and tea, all for £54. That is a freaking steal under normal circumstances (especially on New Years Eve, when restaurants love to gouge you), and here even more so. The portions were enormous. After the canape and the soup, I was pretty happy. And then all the other courses came and mocked me with their size and deliciousness. It was crazy. Let’s look at it!
First, we were asked to choose a complimentary aperitif from the drinks menu. I asked for tap water, and please keep it coming. And then I figured well it’s included, might as well get our moneys worth and have husband finish mine. On the menu was a Calvados, an apple brandy from Normandy, served with apple juice. On our trip to Normandy a few years back, I actually liked Calvados – at least the more apple and/or pear-flavored kinds – and so I ordered that. It tasted like alcohol. But it was better than other alcohols.
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The first food served, the canape, was a buckwheat blini topped with horseradish sour cream, beluga lentils, and beetroot caviar. I imagine that the taste of this bite is what Russians would be referring to whenever they say “this tastes like home.” It was bright and dilly and reminiscent of borscht with cold sour cream on top. So, yeah, Russian. It was pretty good, considering I always think I hate sour cream and dill kinds of things and I liked this.
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“Like it! I could eat 100 of ’em!” |
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Next up was the delicious soup. As you may know, soup is pretty much my favorite thing, and not just because I am good at it. Manna’s offering was celeriac and fennel bisque (hehe bisque) topped with cream and roasted chestnuts. We didn’t get the whole ‘topped with cream’ thing, and we only found a few chestnut pieces when we reached the bottom of the bowl, but the soup was really delicious. It was perfectly salted and wonderfully simple. And it came with two small bread rolls! Yay bread!
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Soup I love soup. |
Big bowls of thick soup are pretty darn filling, but luckily we waited so. damn. long. until our next course came that we were hungry again. The waitstaff was getting confused between where we were in the meal and where the table next to us were. While we both started at about the same point, we were still at this post-soup point when our neighbors were finishing their main! That’s 3 courses away! So messed up! But like I said we did get hungrier so that’s good. And it wasn’t the food’s fault.
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Finally, our ‘starter’ came, the tempeh cabbage rolls with miso sauce. I expected a cold kind of sushi-roll thing, but surprisingly these were warm, hearty rolls, with grilled cabbage holding tempeh and matchstick veggies that tasted like a standard Chinese stir-fry. They were hard to eat with your hands and harder to cut apart nicely with knife and fork, but I really enjoyed them.
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Tempeh and miso are like my favorites |
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The salad, up next, was really lovely, despite the fact that I tend to stray from vinegar-y salads (or ‘bowls of lettuce’, as husband tends to call my unadorned…well…bowls of lettuce). Manna’s salad on offer was a complex mixture of an arugula base (which they call rocket in Europe becauseeee NASA?), roasted squash, sundried tomatoes, kalamata olives, and roasted pepitas in a sherry vinaigrette. Despite the vinegariness, I really enjoyed having an interesting and refreshing salad instead of my usual lettuce bowls. It was really good, especially with the warm squash addition. I used to hate olives but now I absolutely love them. It took a trip to Portugal when olives and bread were all I could eat for a few days. Now I’m all yay olives.
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Warm squash should go in every salad. 
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Next we were given glasses of house organic wine. It tasted like alcohol.
hair today, gone tomorrow
The piece de resistance was next. Our main course was a mushroom stout pie with whole grain mustard champ (mashed potatoes with green onion, weird ass name) and braised kale. A lot of braised kale. And a lot of mash. It was quite the plate. The pie was pretty great, with a fantastic sturdy crust and lots of little mushrooms inside. It was all going swimmingly…and then I saw it. The beginnings of a hair coming out from the middle of the pie. I pulled and it was long and dark — my biggest restaurant fear. See, normally I’m the type of person who would report to waitstaff when there’s a hair or a bug or generally anything wrong. But if it’s a long dark hair, I tend to keep quiet out of the ridiculous fear that someone will say ‘WELL MAYBE IT’S YOURS!’ and I can’t deal with that possibility of someone thinking I’m not telling the truth. It happened first at Blossom in NYC. I was about to say GIMME NEW FOOD but then I had a flashing vision of the waiter saying “Maybe it’s yours?” and me peeing myself in frustration and embarrassment. It’s so messed up, I know. But I can’t help it. No feeling is worse than not being believed and I didn’t want to risk it so I just ate around it and omg I didn’t say anything until now. AHHHHHH. (And no, imaginary people in my head, it’s NOT mine, because unlike the people MAKING my food I always tie my hair back when EATING the food.) Anyway.
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Luckily, dessert was up next. The hair incident made me a little nauseous but it was nothing a change of palette wouldn’t fix. They offered two options: a chocolate orange hazelnut delice or a coconut rice pudding brulee. Obviously, with two people, we got one of each, the only way to do things properly. Both were beyond words. Seriously. Probably the best desserts I’ve had in London so far that I didn’t make myself. The chocolate orange one was like a really thick fudge on top of graham-like crumbles that tasted exactly like a certain cereal from my childhood that I cannot recall, but I know I loved it. The vanilla ice cream on top may have been Swedish Glace but it worked so well with the dish. It was wonderful, as was the rice pudding. I normally require chocolate in my desserts but I actually preferred this one. The bruleed caramelly top was ridiculous and it didn’t even need the mulled cherries it came with. So creamy, so comforting, so delightful. I would love to eat this every day.
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Apparently this was supposed to be like a Jaffa cake, but if you can believe it, I still haven’t had one. 
Delicious rice pudding with a hidden foe. |
When we picked up the gooseberry to split with one bite each, we noticed another unwanted villain in our midst. Another hair! This time small and lighter, hanging off the gooseberry. I mean. This means TWO people are to blame for poor kitchen hygiene. I actually think Manna should be investigated by the board of health now. I mean but the food is so good I can’t really say another worse about them. Like I still want to eat there because it’s the best vegan food in London!
Lastly, we were served coffee (for husband) and tea (fresh mint tea, gorgeous, for me) and – the best part – a plateful of cookies and truffles EACH. One plate would have been more than enough but one each was like the coolest thing ever. Even better, they offered to wrap up the extras (the entire second plate) for us to take home. Win! The cookies were a delightful end to a pretty spectacular meal, foodwise, though it left much to be desired in terms of what goes on behind the scenes.
MANNA, LONDON
Water speed: Poor but eventually gets there, which makes it the greatest water speed in London.
Service: See above. Service in England is notoriously bad. Luckily all the staff is super nice.
Bathrooms: Down the most awful set of stairs ever – seriously, it would be closer to normal if they took out every other step. You have to be very careful. But they are surprisingly nice for basement toilets.
Food: Wonderful comforting vegan food. Just watch out for hairs.
Bonus: Such a great value!
Almost Back to a Functioning Normal…But First a Word From Our Sponsors
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Hello out there! It has been months since I last blogged, I know. I haven’t gone this long without writing since Raul Esparza lost the Tony for “Company” (still not over it) (never forget). I’ve been stupid busy with work since I last dipped my toes into all the writing I have to do about my California trip. But more than that, I couldn’t mentally spend time writing about happy things during the final months of the election. I had to devote time to making calls for Hillz, arguing with internet trolls (I can’t not), and worrying about what would happen to the world if Toilet Emoji won. But I kept telling myself, on November 9, I’ll be able to finally breathe deep again and shake that weight off my shoulders like I’m TayTay at the discotheque, white-girl dancing away from h8ters.
But, alas, that deep breath never came, my shoulders are hunched protectively towards my ears more than ever, and the small pit in my stomach has become a John Hurt situation. Can we ever relax again? Not for the foreseeable future. I mean I hope you are able to, but I just don’t see it happening if you are fully aware of how destructive Toilet Emoji will be and has already been for our country. Also, not that I want you to be white-knuckling every daily activity from now on, but we can’t ‘relax’ in the sense of accepting any of this – we have to resist. I don’t mean break the law (let’s leave that for Toilet Emoji and his fellow toilet bowls) but we cannot normalize the Toilet administration of white supremacy and disregard for the Constitution and for democracy as anything less than the crazy authoritarian danger that it is. This is not partisan issue. Yeah I’m using a Hillary campaign image as the picture for this post but what the Toilet-Brush Elect is doing to our government should be of concern to all parties. If anyone refuses to be concerned, then they are equally to blame, whether Democrat, Republican, Green, Libertarian pothead, Socialist, whatever. This affects everyone.
As you thinking feeling humans know, the opposition to Toilet Emoji is not based in the ordinary ‘oh my party lost, darn’ style of disappointment. This is not disappointment. This is fear. If you don’t know why, you either live under a rock or only get your fake news from Fox News and Macedonian teenagers. The number and scope of hate crimes is increasing all over the world, not just in Klan strongholds but in progressive cities that we never thought could house such evil, but of course they can. So many despicable and, yes, deplorable people have had their most disgusting viewpoints validated, as TE’s win was indeed a victory for racists, misogynists, anti-semites, homophobes, and all around horrible people the world over, who now believe that their hate has been authorized by the highest office, that their viewpoints are now the law of the land, and that they have TE’s permission to act on their hate. People who doubt the veracity of these hate crime reports are not paying attention, or they don’t want to. The worst of humanity now feels legitimized, and they have the confidence to come out of hiding in every town and city. Of course not everyone who voted for TE is, say, a racist, but at the very least, at the very very least, they were okay with racism. With misogyny and sexual assault. At the very least they weighed the off-chance that they save a few dollars in taxes (why they think this will actually happen is beyond logical thinking humans) as more important than the civil rights, the human rights, of many others. At the very least they are selfish, and without logical reasoning skills. Good thing our education system will improve! Not!
So what do we do, we who care the slightest bit about our fellow humans, or animals, or other countries and the people in them, or the planet? We have to fight in whatever ways we can. Don’t buy piece of shit holiday presents that merely feed the consumerist hamster wheel that is destroying the environment with more plastic shit that destroys oceans. Donate that money to worthwhile organizations. Your relatives hate what you pick out anyway.
If you care about the future of the planet at all, you have to go vegan. You just have to aim for that. Everyone knows by now the incontrovertible fact that animal agriculture is the biggest culprit in climate change. Start by doing what you can, and then keep moving closer towards veganism. The incoming administration has no regard for the planet’s future – they don’t even believe in climate change – and many international environmental safeguards are in danger. Some days I think, you know what, maybe humanity deserves to only have another decade or two left. But it’s not up to me to say that, just like it’s not up to Toilet Emoji, so even though I’m appalled by my fellow humans, I’m still going to do everything I can to protect their future.
If you care about women, you need to speak up when you are in the presence of rape culture. Guess what, if you dare leave your home, you’re probably in the presence of rape culture. It’s so ingrained in our daily conversations and encounters that we don’t even realize that we can call these situations by this seemingly dramatic term. I know, like me, all the females out there are sick and tired of hearing that it’s our job to fight it. And I’m not going to tell you that it is. We can, and we should if we’re strong enough, but it’s high time all the men out there start taking care of this fight since they’re the ones responsible for the problem. I want every male person I know to fight against all the trappings of toxic masculinity and start defending women even when no women are present. Good men will take on this effort when it’s just them hanging with their boys, if Toilet Emoji’s wife was right and ‘locker room talk’ really does happen just anytime men are together. I don’t believe her, but I do believe it happens at least a good deal of the time. I expect any man who isn’t a misogynist to stand up to his friends or colleagues when this bullshit comes out of their mouths. Even if they’re ‘just’ talking about a woman’s body. Even if they are ‘just’ talking shit about women who are ‘unlikable’. This is your job now. Stand up and resist in even the smallest moments and it could help prevent the bigger ones.
If you care about other people, especially you fellow white people who say they care about nonwhite people, we need to really step up our game and prove that maybe we might one day deserve for someone to call us an ally. When you inevitably hear Toilet supporters in the wild harassing people of color, people with headscarves, women, &c, try not to look away or ignore what’s happening. If you feel safe doing so, speak up and tell the perpetrator that what they are doing or saying is not okay and will not be tolerated. It’s such a problem that these pieces of shit feel legitimized in their hateful acts. It’s up to us to inform them that they’re still pieces of shit by taking a stand against normalizing and accepting such actions. Tell the leaders of whatever religious group you belong to that they must instruct the congregation to stand with other religions, to stand with Muslims and Jews and everyone else who is now in danger or not. If a leader of a religious congregation is not willing to take such a stand of solidarity with other religions, then that person is not worthy of being such a leader. Write a letter to your local mosque and tell them that you welcome them into your community and will do what you can to support them. Pretty much every mosque in the USA is getting hate incredibly frightening hate mail on a daily basis; let your letter give them hope in humanity. I am inspired every day by the amazing people in Pantsuit Nation who share their stories of how they stood up to the bigotry they now witness in everyday life. I hope I can follow their lead, and I hope you can too.
If you care about the USA, whatever that means now and whatever it becomes, keep calling your representatives. This is a good place to start. Make 10 minutes worth of calls every day. If you can’t, make 5 minutes of them. One minute. They’re the people whose job it is to prevent the worst from happening. I don’t have high hopes, considering how eager the Republicans have been to kowtow to the Toilet and how eager the all-too-quiet Democrats have been to hold their hair back. But we can’t let them give up. Never get quiet. The same applies to journalists, those who are very much responsible for their share of the damage done by this election. Call out publications who refuse to say ‘white supremacist’ instead of the almost laughably kind ‘alt-right’. Write to the editors and say you will pull your subscription unless they start doing their job, which is to provide a factual check on government, not to appease our new Toilet overlord. Contact the advertisers for those publications and say you won’t support them unless they put pressure on the publication to do a better job. Write letters to editors about how they are failing us when we need them most. And most importantly, support the ones who are actually doing a good job, or at least a relatively good one. This kind of support means a paid subscription. We are at that point when we need to pay for decent journalism if we want decent journalism to exist. The Washington Post isn’t perfect, but it’s doing a much better job than every other main, including the NYTimes. NPR is always an okay bet. The Guardian is doing a decent job. Hold your newspapers accountable.
It really helps to have an action plan. Even if you are just making that one call a day, or even per week, or if you are boycotting certain companies and donating to charities. But we’re past the point where we can just do nothing and hope for the best. We’re all responsible now at this turning point in history. We may not be able to enjoy that deep sigh of relief for many years to come, but day by day I am getting better at breathing around the pit of despair in order to function, and fight, like how Leslie Odom Jr had to sing around the post-meal burp he always had in Act II. I hope that you are as well.
Having finally been able to say a few words, however rambling and stupid, about this utter tragedy, I will now try my best to resume my regular nonsensical but jovial blogging. My resistance will be equal parts fighting and trying to create light. Join me, won’t you?
