Frrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrwelcome back! To Flotsam that is. We’re back. Back at it. Swinging bats. Just kidding I don’t know what that means.
But do you want to know what I really really want? I’ll tell ya what I want, what I really really want.
I need new pajamas. New PJs for 2024! I’ve said this for eons, but I must upgrade my pj game. I’m telling you though, by the end of the day when it’s time to change, I just don’t give an ish, and will put on a ziplock bag if I have to.
But this is what I want. I want striped pajamas like Kathleen Kelly in You’ve Got Mail. THOSE. I want those. Exactly those.
You know the scene when Tom Hanks brings her flowers because she has a cold and she tries to shoo him away at her little brass voice doorbell thingy through her muffled voice. And he slides through the open door and zips up the stairs and appears at her peephole with the flowers and she freaks out and throws on a trench coat over her pjs (which was brilliant, Kathleen.) and eventually lets him in. THOSE.
And then have you ever noticed how she does nothing during the entire scene but move the vase (vahse) of daisies around that Tom gives her? I love that detail. I just love it. She’s keeping herself busy but it has something do with him. Just moves the vase (vahse) around from room to room. Takes the vase (vahse) with her to bed even! It’s genius. And I loved the trench.
But I really loved the pjs.
Two piece, cotton, old school, striped. Where can I get these??? I might even put a trench over them and carry a vase (vahse) of daisies around. You watch me.
You know what else I want to get into this year? Don’t laugh.
I know painfully little about Mary Oliver and her work and I’m ashamed. It’s sort of the same feeling I had when Joan Didion passed away a while back and I realized I knew very little about her. So I bought one of her books, watched her doc, scoured various articles about her home and her style and her life and her everything.
Well that’s where I am with Mary Oliver. I’m not overly into poetry, but I’m always surprisingly touched when I read it, given my natural sarcastic slant in life.
I did find Dog Songs at a local used bookstore over the holidays, but I have yet to sit down and spend any proper time with it. I think once I get my striped pjs I’ll cozy down with a pipe and Mozart and get in that mess.
My question is, are you into Mary? Is there some place I should start? A documentary? A specific book? I do plan on listening to Wild and Precious soon(ish).
Tell me what you know about her, and how I should embark on my emotional education.
It’s going to be my word for the new year. Unbothered. Landon mentioned the word recently in a video and it struck like a harmonious chime. Like a vibration. Unbothered.
This may surprise you, but I do get bothered by certain things. (why are you looking at me like that?)
But you know what, I’m going to do my best to remain unbothered by the little things. Things that don’t affect me or change my orbit or the world. Let’s stay unbothered.
I mean sure, mice are eating through the wires in my minivan and I think I possibly have the right to be at least a little bit bothered by that, but the rest? Naw, unbothered. I’m taking that vibe into the new year.
That and a hugely wavy shag for winter.
(I do want to kill all mice though. Mice and bunnies. Mice in my car and bunnies in my garden.)
Sorry to get murdery all of a sudden.
Is there a way to log your podcast journey? You know, like Goodreads but for podcasts? I’m sure I could ask Google, but you’re cuter.
It’s Will and Nat’s TENTH BIRTHDAY tomorrow! Which is just bananas to me. And my jowls. We have a little sleepover for Nat and a few friends tomorrow night (complete with boba tea, axolotl slap bracelets, butter noodles and a Taylor Swift dance party. hold me.) And for Will a mall party on Sunday with a few of his friends (complete with the food court, Super Mario slap bracelets and the vintage arcade. hold Aaron.) Sunday night we’ll crash through February. (after we watch Taylor at the Golden Globes, natch.)
Okay, striped cotton pjs and Mary. Let’s do this.