The egg salad incident

Cracks

Cracks was never meant to be some kind of wartime diary. Cracks was/is an outlet for weird thoughts and brain flotsam and to escape from the real things in my life.

And I shouldn’t be dramatic. It’s not wartime, it’s just a dreadful shitty time and everybody in New York City is buzzing with anxiety except for the 10 dummies at the park playing basketball together (guess this t-shirt wasn’t lying).

I don’t even mean to totally shame people who act like things are normal. It’s a natural reaction for people, and probably necessary to protect ourselves so our brains don’t totally implode from stress. I feel like I often push things back in my mind, because when you allow those thoughts, it can consume you and it isn’t really all that helpful. It doesn’t really galvanize me to do anything, I just freeze up.

A few years ago, I was working in Southeast Turkey, about 30 minutes from the Syrian border and 90 minutes from Aleppo. This was about the time the war was taking an even more brutal turn , and it was unsettling to know that a short car ride away people have lost their homes, hospitals are bombed, people are starving, rumors of chemical warfare. Meanwhile I’m literally hemming and hawing over whether to buy a dress at H&M (shout out to the Sanko Park Mall in Gaziantep, home to the surliest teens in the former Byzantine empire!!) Like, what IS wrong with me, right? Even now, I work at a human rights NGO and literally all I want to do when I get home is take a deep dive into Susan Sarandon’s shitty influencer daughter’s Instagram. HappilyEvaAfter is a crime against humanity (humanity=my style sensibility), but like, in a more mundane way my brain can handle.

I didn’t even really want to write this newsletter this week, everything felt too grim. But then I wasn’t really sure what purpose it would serve to spend my day stewing in stress. This newsletter is a pleasant escape. So um, welcome to Cracks, the email version of an escape room.

Theme music for this newsletter
Virna Lindt-Attention Stockholm this is background music for smart girls who have perfect eyeliner.

Pigeon report
My only pigeon encounter this week was…very gory so let’s skip it, shall we? This week I’d like to highlight an NYC bird that has the same shitty attitude of pigeons but is much prettier. Robins, the springtime bird that consistently looks like they’re about to call the manager on me.

These impetuous little reprobates are pretty to look at but they have a manic energy that does not VIBE with me. We celebrate their arrival each spring, but WHY? They’re eating worms who did nothing wrong and just eat dirt so we can have plants n’stuff. Hmm, seems like the Robins are here to DESTROY spring if you ask me.

Grade: B, pretty, but also pretty rude.
Photo: (Me)

Are you okay? Checking in on my favorite d-listers

Comrade Nanny gets it.

Answer: Hell yeah, she’s okay.

The weirdest shit I saw on Craigslist recently
Okay, so this one is too long to screenshot, but this Craigslist post involves an “egg-salad incident” so I promise you it is worth your time.

Hints from Hellouise
I was recently gifted Ottolenghi’s “Plenty” cookbook, and it’s a pleasure to work my way through some recipes that encourage me to think more creatively about vegetables, especially when you’re stuck inside and have ample time to cook whatever you want.

This black pepper tofu was delicious and made for literally perfect tofu, and it’s weirdly decadent for a stir fry. Unfortunately, because the grocery stores are ransacked I had to sub red chiles for jalapenos, but I don’t think it changes too much, it’s really the heat you’re going after, after all.

Shit you really ought to read
Parallels between Japanese internment and migrant detention in the USA. Cathy Horyn makes for a delightful interviewee. Living with COVID-19 and an autoimmune disease. My literal queen, Sam Irby hath returned.