Issue #166: Why (and How) I'm Choosing Simplicity

Plus, Nini Nguyen's recent obsessions.

🎥 ‘A Different Man,’ in theaters: A man born with neurofibromatosis, a condition that causes tumors to grow under the skin, undergoes a procedure to remove them, believing that the physical transformation will transform his life. Once conventionally handsome (played by Sebastian Stan), he discovers his wounds may go deeper when he meets a man who has not gotten the procedure, but has all the confidence the transformed man dreamed of (played by Adam Pearson, who the role was written for). Like ‘The Substance,’ it’s all about seeking an external solutions, only to realize the ways in which the work is actually internal. (Highly recommend this feature on Adam Pearson in New York Magazine.)

📚 The Hypocrite by Jo Hamya: The coffee shop Three Birds in Ojai had a small selection of books for sale, and this one was nestled among a selection of novels that so closely mirrored my own taste, most can be found in this list. I plucked it from the shelf, by virtue of those that surrounded it, and began it over brunch at Rory’s Other Place, down the street. The best way I can describe Hamya’s writing is that her sentences felt as nurturing as the bites of brothy, herby bean stew I ate while reading them. I don’t want to say much more, so you can experience it the same way I did, but I’ll leave you with this early sentence: “Other people’s husbands standing desultorily over their spawn while their wives took a break, took Aperol, wore designer classes, half watched little sand huts being drawn up: the erection of child-sized city-states on the coast, subject to parental patiences, and barely developed motor skills.” P.S. You can find my full Ojai guide and map here!

📺 “The Franchise” on Max: Lest this week’s recs remain too high-brow, this sitcom starring Himesh Patel, Aya Cash, and Lolly Adefope (who I adore from “Shrill”), satirizes the making of a Marvel-type film, called ‘Tecto.’ It’s a fun, behind-the-scenes spoof that follows assistants and directors as they frantically navigate A-list meltdowns, product-placements, and rewrites in the hopes of getting the high-budget movie made.

The moment I took my seat on my flight from Los Angeles to Portland on Sunday evening, my stomach dropped. I was disappointed to leave my friends and the endless sun, but just as eager to be back home—this was something else… I shifted under the weight of the unease, avoiding it by searching online for a cardigan I’d spotted a model wearing at brunch the previous day. She looked impossibly pulled-together, pairing it over a monochrome white outfit, and I briefly became entirely engrossed in my search.¹ I held the phone over the pages of the book I had been excited to read, only stopping when an attendant made the last call to set our devices on “Airplane Mode.” During the flight, I distracted myself as best as I could, trying to concentrate on the pages, only realizing the source of my feeling when I walked in my front door a few hours later…

After a grateful and happy reunion with my dog, Toast, I surveyed the scene from my doorway, instantly flooded by to-dos that washed away my ability to truly enjoy my homecoming: The flowers in my living room were dripping pollen onto the carpet and needed to be cleaned-up. I had to unpack and do laundry, but not before a quick grocery run. A stack of magazines cluttered my coffee table, and packages sat waiting to be unpacked, then broken-down. There was also mail to sort and a rain gutter that looked to be clogged. One short flight, and I was back in the land of unending to-dos.