Excerpts of an Absent Mind

a brief return via collection of thoughts

For context, I’ve been reading mostly novellas and essay collections as of late, and writing a lot too but posting very little. So here is a collection of paragraphs compiled as an update. More writing coming soon and maybe I can get a second one out this week as a thank you for still supporting the existing pieces. (What is the word for the works on Substack? I never know what to call them.)

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I moved out and my best friend & flatmate of 4 years moved 344 miles away.

I never did paint the room or change the curtains like I said I would but the year of living in the top floor shoe box on a cobbled street in the middle of town with her was one of the best I’ve lived so far.

The kitchen actually made me want to cook and for a bit I did though I eventually fell back into quick pastas and easy salads as the last few months rolled around. The spiral of stairs to the top floor kept my calves strong and my lungs challenged, especially after three years prior of ground floor comfort and ease. My room, a box with damp on the wall but a cozy place to land once I made it my own by filling it with my stuff. Her room, our acting living room pretty much but my favourite place to watch reality tv and separately scroll in each other’s company once all words had been spoken. So much laughing, so much crying especially in the farewell scenes. Being irritated, annoyed and possibly angry but also sympathetic, delicate and eventually apologetic. We really did make what was essentially a one-bed flat for miniature figurines, a home for two best friends. And we were girls together there. Like friends that were meant to be sisters. Except we’d both be the eldest.

Maybe I’ll save this for a speech at her wedding.

I had a panic attack about how I look.

I love fashion but sometimes I feel like fashion doesn’t love me. I used to dress up a lot as a kid. I had a fancy dress duffle bag and everything. There’s a picture somewhere in which I am a mermaid by way of tinfoil wrapping. There was some project runway magic in that costume because somehow I looked exactly as intended, like a child dressed up as a shiny mermaid and not in fact a wrapped ham in the fridge. Tinfoil can go from draping textile to leftovers in a scrunch. I had a cinderella dress that was reversible so I could quick change from rags to riches, though I’m not sure I was completely adept at turning things inside out at that age so the full effect was probably not achieved as intended.

I would later, probably rather dramatically, discover that fancy dress was not commonly worn outside of my room and find any excuse to change outfits three times a day. As you can imagine, I didn’t pack light for anything and it is still a struggle to pack a carry-on at times. Simultaneously, I’ve never not struggled with my appearance. This is a very common sentiment. One that I wish I could fix for everyone involved in this universal experience but I can’t. Besides maybe suggesting therapy but then again I wouldn't know about that either. So for now I just want to keep wearing clothes that I love and letting them numb my inside-outside battle.

I read I Remember Nothing by Nora Ephron on train journeys over 3 days.

I’m sad I’ll never have the chance to meet Nora Ephron. Not that I would have anyway. But I’m so in love with her writing that it pains me to know I can never hear the words in her actual voice, booming down a microphone most likely. She writes almost anecdotally. As though the 2 of us are at coffee, up at the window seat, sharing and comparing stories after months apart as it rains a little outside for poetic reasons. For Nora Ephron reasons.

A brief impulse to spin on my head that I did not indulge.

An outfit formula/look that I really like is one where I appear as though I may breakdance at any time, unannounced. Baggy jeans but not slovenly with a trainer that has a flat, skater-esque sole and a hoodie that puffs up a little when the hem is tucked under. It is important that the hoodie does not pass the top of the jeans - which sits closer to the hip than the waist. A cap is a bonus. And so is knowing how to breakdance.

Brandy on repeat.

Where do I even start to wax lyrical about this album. Ten out of ten out of ten out of ten out of ten. You get it.

Picture time.

The best part is when you get to the pictures. I’ve noticed a lot of the same Pinterest images floating around in tiktok mood boards and even on here so I’m going to try my best not to repeat them, though I am glad to share a visual wavelength with cool people online. I post finds I like on @made2mood if you’d like to see more deliberate curation with spam-level posting every once in a while.

visual representation of me thinking all the thoughts before thinking to write them down

Thanks for reading.

I’m serious about getting another bit o’ writing out this week to make up for lost time, or rather, words. Subscribe to see it in your inbox if you like.

See you soon.