Issue #178: Probably Not the Love Story You Were Expecting
Breaking a pattern to save my relationship.



🥣 Slow-Cooked Coconut Beef Curry with Tons of Kale and Ginger: I rarely eat red meat these days, but last week I found myself craving a hearty beef curry and this hit the spot. While I used this recipe by Nicole Maguire as a starting off point, I ended up adding so many more aromatics, vegetables, and broth that I created an entirely new recipe—and the coconut curry of my dreams.
📺 “Severance, Season 2” on Apple TV+: It’s fine, we’ve only been waiting three years (!) to resolve the biggest cliff-hanger ever. Luckily, Ben Stiller delivered with the first episode of the second season, out last Friday, generating even more questions in this series about four coworkers who had a procedure to sever their memories between their work and lives outside. This season is expected to expand well beyond the first, and already has me hooked. Why is Helly lying? Where is Mark’s wife? I need to know!! (I haven’t listened to it yet, but there’s an accompanying podcast for anyone interested in the behind-the-scenes of the show!)
🎥 ‘The Last Showgirl,’ in theaters: I never felt an urge to go to Vegas, but when I went last year for a concert, I found myself fascinated by the places where the facade fell away to reveal a darker underside (like when I exited a casino out the back door to avoid the Strip—not my best or safest call). Gia Coppola compassionately examines the reality beneath the bejeweled surface in this movie starring Pamela Anderson as Shelly, a showgirl who has performed in Vegas for decades. Like Anderson herself, there is much more to Shelly than meets the surface, as Coppola artfully peels back each layer. A must-see.
“I’m done.”
I said the words calmly to my boyfriend last August, in the middle of an argument about planning our trip to Tokyo.
“You’re done?” he asked, “What do you mean?” I can’t do this anymore. It’s not working. There has to be another way. We had been dating for a year that felt more like a decade, quickly bonding over our shared love of the outdoors, through bike rides across Portland, sunset hikes, trips to the coast, and backpacking adventures. On the heels of our summer courtship, a closer intimacy was forged when he helped me unload my U-Haul of things from my ex-husband’s house, then held me as I cried. He made me dinner on the day I signed my divorce papers, and supported me during my book tour, attending as many readings as he could and watching Toast when he couldn’t.
“I’m just done,” I repeated. He looked at me, tears welling in his eyes, as I walked away and began getting dressed to meet friends for a dinner reservation I’d swiftly changed from four people to three. I was already priming my slingshot.
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