There are so many things I want to tell you about, to make up for lost time.
- I was in Vegas. This was my first time in Vegas, and it was … not quite what I expected? I mean yes — there was the neon, there were the corridors that led everywhere, the acres of tired faces. There were the overpriced drinks and the slot machine cacophonies. But there was also the first thing I mention when I tell people about my trip to Vegas — on the second weekend of 2019, the thing that felt oddly momentous — the six hours spent in the Park MGM spa, $20 for a robe (since pilfered) and a hot tub and chairs that reclined all the way back. By virtue of it being such a bonkers and weird place, Vegas was honestly the most relaxing trip I’ve had in years.
- I’ve been reading a lot! Full thread here, but if you have read any of those books (or have any books that you’ve loved lately), please email me. I have a certain cosmic angst about only being able to read ~four thousand more books in my life (assuming eighty years and fifty books a year), so I really want to make sure that my own little corpus is the best possible four thousand books, which I can’t do without you.
- Buttondown’s revenue has doubled since the new year, owing entirely to the kind words of a couple folks who have very large followings (and, more accurately, to the sum of all the kind words of the folks who came before them). I have been doing more customer service than ever, and it has felt taxing but very good!
Mostly, though, I want to tell you about how much it has been snowing here in Seattle:
- On Monday, there was a paltry inch or so on Monday that kept the city on its toes. Most people worked from home; dogs had lots of snacks.
- Then four more inches on Friday, which I watched come down first as I walked back up Madison with a coworker and then later that evening while sipping on a La Fin du Monde and finishing up My Brilliant Friend. At around two in the morning, I stood in front of my window and watched folks sled down Pine to the amusement of the bouncer at Unicorn. (on grocery carts; on trash bags; on cellophane containers). I joined them, a little groggy and sore, and almost crashed into a Subaru.
- And now it’s snowing again. Cliff Mass says it’s another inch or two tonight, then maybe six tomorrow night. I harbor a deep and unfounded suspicion that it will never stop snowing, that it may be like this forever: the city perpetually tiptoeing its way through crosswalks, every corner office and drugstore abandoned in favor of apartment-poured Aperol Spritzes and quiet games of Codenames.
It is, somehow, already the middle of February: 2019 has already left a couple bruises on our shins. I haven’t accomplished any of my New Years’ resolutions; I haven’t quite done any of the little habits I wanted to get better at this year (I’m still drinking a bit too much on weeknights; I’m still writing a bit too infrequently on weekends; I’m still working a little too hard; I’m still working not quite hard enough). I am very happy and a little undisciplined.
But someone just breadbasket-carried a Yorkie into this coffeeshop, you know? And I get to waddle home soon (knockoff Yeezys do not good snow-boots make), make some soup, and do the crossword, and think about letting my team know that I’ll be working from home come Monday.
It is the middle of February, and it is a Sunday afternoon, and the third snowfall in six days is hitting Broadway and Pike, and it occurs to me that I have so many blessings left uncounted.