This post contains Game of Thrones spoilers!
Today, Drew and I had brunch at Cafe Luxembourg, a French-American bistro on the Upper West Side. Our reservations were for 1:45, but we didn’t get seated until 2:10 because they were running behind. When the hostess starts offering you complimentary drinks, you know it’s going to be a while. I felt so bad for her because there were like a dozen people just standing there staring at her. Bitch kept it together though.
The food was incredible, minus the free bowl of fruit they sent out for making us wait. (By the way, we were super nice and did not complain even a little bit. They were just thoughtful.) When the server brought out this giant bowl of raspberries and blueberries and grapes, etc., we were like, OMG yes! And then we tasted it and were like WTF. For some reason they drizzled the fruit with like a minty cream kind of topping. We were like, Why.
We ended up splitting the ricotta pancakes and then I had the eggs Benedict and he had an omelette. It was legit really good and the guy sitting next to us who was dining solo definitely listened to our entire conversation about all types of crazy shit, including how I think fighting climate change is a lost cause, and that people who post political diatribes—of any kind—are contributing to the problem. (Not that I didn’t do that A LOT in the not-so-distant past. But I think differently about it now.) I also talked a lot about my dad, who died a couple of weeks ago, and about school.
After brunch, Drew walked to the bookstore and I came home. I’m working on a paper about how shame and honor influenced sexual practices in the Middle East during the colonial and postcolonial periods, so I read some Michel Foucault and went over my notes. Seriously, I’m totally buggin about this paper. It’s due Friday and I basically want to die.
I’ve been thinking a lot about authenticity lately. Actually, I’m always thinking about authenticity, because, Hello! How difficult is it to be authentic today? To be true to yourself? There’s so much superficiality on social media and all of that, and it’s like, WHO AM I? Seriously, who the fuck am I. Like today, for example, I was thinking about tonight’s upcoming Game of Thrones episode so I wanted to share some of my thoughts about the series in my Insta story. After I recorded this long-ass, meandering, bullshit speech about what I think is going to happen and how I feel about the characters—including my perpetual annoyance with Daenerys—I uploaded it, only to delete it five minutes later because I was so embarrassed by how lame I sounded. And like ten people saw it and I was like, those people definitely think I’m totally lame and will now hate me forever and ever.
So then I posted a selfie in which I’m holding Stassi Schroeder’s new book, Next Level Basic with a silly caption about “finding your light.” (Btw, her book is quite entertaining, and oddly empowering.) Then I went to the gym and did a half-hour on the elliptical and ten minutes on the Stairmaster because I’m definitely full-on cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs. Seriously. Like I’m literally obsessed with Cocoa Puffs and I knew I was going to want to eat them tonight so I thought I’d burn off some calories beforehand.
And then there was Game of Thrones. Before I continue, I will write once again that THIS CONTAINS SPOILERS!
You guys, I don’t think there’s anything I love more in this world than a powerful female character who TAKES MOTHERFUCKERS DOWN. I mean, when Arya just comes out of nowhere and rams her Valyrian steel into the Night King’s gut and he shatters into frozen pieces, I was like YES!! YES!!! YES!!!! I AM LIVING! I FEEL ALIVE! GOD IS REAL!!! How about when he turned around and grabbed her by the neck? Were you guys DYING? I was dying.
That was some major shit. And how about the dragons flying through that storm? When they flew above the clouds I was like, that’s really beautiful.
So anyway. That’s my day today, which I ended with eating my Cocoa Puffs, staring blankly at the Kardashians and then writing this post. (I also posted some more on Instagram and monitored how many likes and views I was getting so I could know how good or bad to feel about myself.) And now I’m going to bed. Because I have Statistics class in the morning! And Muslim Masculinities! And a paper to write and laundry to do and so much anxiety to feel! It’s going to be amazing.