hot ghoul diary 1.0
it’s about time i give my newsletter a titular series. i’ve been inspired recently by poet alex dimitrov’s “NYC Diaries”—he’s the only person who can make me care about the east village anymore. so i’ve decided to start documenting my weekends with little diary entries of my own. sometimes i need to be reminded that i’m still alive (driving a car and having beautiful friends).
friday
12:16 am - i’m in the suburbs drinking white claw with the first man i ever loved. his name is ian and apparently he’s wearing beanies again. we’re talking about fucking enm couples while our other two friends (cancer women who look like flowers) pretend to relate. ian says he might love someone’s husband and wonders what could be. i tell him nothing can be, which is exactly why he feels this way. for fifteen seconds i feel like a genius.
everyone in this room has seen me pee my pants in our high school library at least four times.
9:29 am - rolling up to the primary care physician’s office, blasting my chemical romance through the windows of my hundai elantra. when i talk to a doctor about my food allergies i feel like i have a rich husband. my doctor’s name is margo, so it feels weird to see her in scrubs. she should be running a ceramics studio like the navy somewhere. today i asked her if ollipop soda could mask the symptoms of a terminal illness.
11:50 am - my mom tells me on the phone that her best friend ruth is pulling away from her. i worry it’s because two weeks ago i called ruth in a panic when my mom was at pilates and i couldn’t figure out how to reset my emergency break. everyone with a deep voice is getting sick of me trying to make them my dad.
1:48 pm - ordered a bunch of sanrio stuff online after staring at a work email for too long.
8:02 pm - feeling good. got off work a few hours ago and now i’m laying on my brand new valfré blanket and texting one of my cancer friends from the other night about a variety of topics (men and kuromi). i’m deciding i want the vibe of my apartment this year to be vampire lava lamp. victorian picture frames, y2k nostalgia, and an excessive amount of candles.
now playing: allie x’s new album girl with no face. like all delicious synth pop, it makes me want to make out in a nightclub with someone i met by a wall.
saturday
1:45 pm - at the deli, having an absolute panic attack that my car is getting towed. i’m parked illegally because i’m just a girl. kidding. can you imagine if i wasn’t though?
my grandfather is dying and all he cares about is corned beef.
2:34 pm - i’m eating corned beef and pickles with my grandfather and his 87 year old girlfriend adele. i say “this is the first time i’ve ever had corned beef” and adele is astonished. she can’t believe my jewish ass didn’t grow up on deli meat. my grandfather is unphased. he knows who my dad was (italian).
3:47 pm - i introduce my grandfather and adele to the criterion channel and give them my password. i’ve never seen them this happy.
8:40 pm - at my cancer friend’s house. the one who looks like a sunflower. my other cancer friend who looks like a cherry blossom is also here. we’re sitting on the floor—baked, laughing, and eating hamburgers. mine has a gluten free bun and no cheese. ketchup makes me believe in god.
midnight - it’s a full moon and we’re watching chicago. queen latifa’s mommy domme character has me wet on main. i said the richard gere razzle dazzle song was my favorite part of the movie so far, and now the energy shifted.
sunday
9:43 am - i’m having oreos for breakfast while my friends plan their errands. i’m still the child of the group, no matter how many different types of health insurance i have.
5:12 pm - freshly showered for drinks with my film bro friend colin. we went on a few dates last fall but it didn’t work out (we got to know each other). i’m proud of my ability to stay friends with people i’ve shared music and spit with. it’s like practice for divorce.
i wish i could have an ex-husband without ever being married. someone who knows me really well, but is only around if there’s an emergency or if i’ve had too much wine.
6:53 pm - i got to the bar before colin which never happens. i’m never on time for anything, especially if leaving the house involves finding a hair pin. i order a cranberry cider like an asshole. when i talk to a bartender about my food allergies i feel like someone who listens to mumford and sons.
7:36 pm - i’m tipsy off one drink, feeling like a skinny legend. colin returns a ring i left behind in his bedroom four months ago. this is why i stay in touch with people i’ve slept next to. there are parts of me i need back.
9:03 pm - colin is walking me back to my apartment like a feminist ally. we talk about hinge. i tell him i want to move to chicago because there are hot fat perverts there. he says “no that’s wisconsin”. i tell him i lived in wisconsin for a while and i got hit on at the ups store a lot. he laughs really loud and then i hug him goodbye.
life feels simple, and quiet, and good.
-Rachel Elizzz