December - R.E.P.O.R.T.
a nightcap
I slept peacefully last night only when I gave up the fight. I’ve been struggling to stay awake through one singlular episode of Hardcore History for months’ worth of sleeps. I am genuinely interested in learning how the Vikings (d)evolved from Pagans to Christians in the 10th and 11th centuries, but Dan Carlin’s creaky dulcet tones knock me right out. Every night, I inevitably have to restart the 5-hour episode, only to make it through the first 15 minutes for the 60th straight night.
I’m back in Brooklyn for the first time since I moved out over a year ago. I’ve nothing new to offer about the ways New York City keeps moving without you when you’re gone, and how it makes you feel like an insignificant speck of a thing, but it is hitting particularly hard this trip for a few different reasons. I will simply lose the will to live if I dwell on any one of them for too long, so I’ll just not.
The past 10 months have left me feeling really, truly brokenhearted and hopeless. My self-esteem is the lowest it’s been since high school. I’m unsure of every choice I make, paralyzed by fear and self-doubt, and annoyed by my own woe. Somehow, I know even less about myself and the world than I did this time last year. I’ve been too scared to come back to New York and face all the memories that make me feel hollow, but it turns out my best friends’ couches offer me better sleep than my bed at home. I don’t know how I got so lucky as to have the friends I do, who constantly pull me back from the brink of true blue insanity and build me up with the most loving words that can only come from people who really know you.
As a return to form, I’m doin’ a lil holiday season R.E.P.O.R.T.
My brother keeps reminding me of Earl Nightingale’s metaphor for success and hard work, “You can’t get warmth from the fireplace unless you put the wood in first.” So instead of sitting around feeling sad about everything I’m not doing and waiting for the warmth, I’ve chosen to toss a few logs on the fire. Enjoy, ily! At the intersection of diary entry, listicle, wishlist, and acrostic poem lies the ~ R.E.P.O.R.T. ~
R - reading
I’ve read some of Emily Brontë’s Wuthering Heights in the past but never made it through the whole book until this past week. I love the one-two-punch of reading a physical book while listening to the audiobook; something about the multisensory reading experience really hits. I haven’t used Spotify since cancelling my Premium subscription last year, but they roped me back in with a 2-month free promo. Since I’ve been off Spotify, they’ve added a TON of great audiobooks, including a beautifully narrated version of Wuthering Heights from Miss Aimee Lou Wood <3 Her performance of the 1847 novel made this fairly convoluted (sorry, Emily) story of multigenerational love (?) FINALLY makes sense to me in a way it never has before.
I could add to all the whiny online discourse about Emerald Fennell’s upcoming Wuthering Heights film, but I think it’s corny to get your panties in a twist about a movie solely based on the trailer. The criticism I’ve seen so far includes:
The trailer shouldn’t refer to it as “the greatest love story of all time” bc everyone in it is brutally evil
Margot Robbie is too old to play Catherine Earnshaw
The color of Margot Robbie’s wedding dress is historically inaccurate
The only complaint I will entertain before the movie’s release is that casting Jacob Elordi as the “dark-skinned gipsy” Heathcliff is as insensitive as it is inaccurate. There is an unfortunate history of the character being played by white men. Why haven’t we learned? I’m an unapologetic Saltburn-lover and generally respect Fennell for her bold creative swings, but the Jacob Elordi choice was whack.
The book is WILD and a classic for a reason. My favorite passage is (predictably) about transcendent, melodramatic, soul-crushing love.
“My love for Linton is like the foliage in the woods: time will change it, I’m well aware, as winter changes the trees. My love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath: a source of little visible delight, but necessary… I am Heathcliff! He’s always, always in my mind: not as a pleasure, any more than I am a pleasure to myself, but as my own being. He shall never know I love him: and that, not because he’s handsome, but because he’s more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made out of, his and mine are the same.”
Also, did you know Kate Bush was only 19 when she summed up the toxic romance of this story in a way most English Lit teachers could only ever aspire to??? In her DEBUT single nonetheless…???
E - eating
I recently parted ways with my therapist of 5 years. It was the longest relationship I’ve ever had with a mental health professional, the first doctor I saw after leaving inpatient treatment, and the only eating disorder specialist I ever worked with. She helped me in ways I could never properly thank her for, but I know living well is the best way I can show my gratitude. When the going gets tough, the ED voice always gets really loud. Lately, nothing sounds more comforting than starving myself, shrinking my physical body into delicate nothingness, and just kinda ~blowing away in the wind. But I hear her words like she’s a lil angel on my shoulder, reassuring me that now is the time to flex my recovery muscles, not to isolate myself and give into the addictive allure of restriction.
It’s maybe one of my least favorite facts of life that comfort and familiarity don’t like, foster any growth. Ol’ reliable is not how you improve your situation, and it’s so tempting to lean on those vices buttttt I haven’t had a real bagel in a year, so I’m gonna get a fucking bagel tomorrow, and it’s gonna be great.
P - playing
I’ve espoused the joy of a physical puzzle book in a past R.E.P.O.R.T., but it bears repeating! The NYTimes’ new hardcover Puzzle Mania! book is gorgeous.
I’ve been trying out cryptic crosswords as a new challenge. In a cryptic, each clue is a word puzzle in itself. They’re equal parts challenging and cheeky. There are always new ones popping up on the mini crossword subreddit, r/pocketgrids. It’s often frustrating and occasionally very satisfying. J’adore!
O - obsessing
I recently did a quick buzz around the Barnes Foundation on one of their Free First Sundays. If Philly-area museums are up your alley, bookmark this list of free entry days! (assuming the 2026 schedule will remain the same as the 2025 options listed there)
I didn’t have much time to spend at the museum on this trip, which made me think about how I can move through a gallery space quickly yet mindfully. I noted which pieces I was immediately drawn to upon entering each room and the throughline between them.
Although they don’t hold any of her work in their permanent collection, Hilma Af Klint is an artist whose work often stops me in my tracks, probably due in no small part to the ways she wove mysticism into her paintings. I’m always happy when a painting catches my eye, and I later find out it’s one of hers. I want to keep exploring why I’m so drawn to her work, but for now, I find pride and safety within myself when I’m repeatedly drawn to the same artist’s work. Even more so when I learn there’s some ~lesbian mysticism~ afoot.
Af Klint’s swan series is particularly interesting to me recently! And also swans in general! I’m so inspired by swan art lately! I’m swan-pilled! I gotta make some swan art.
R - recommending
I just wrapped my weekly film club discussion, and this week’s film was… 🥁🥁🥁 *Bugonia*
As the President of the Jesse Plemons Fan Club (North American Chapter), I cannot recommend Bugonia enough. I feel a wee bit self-conscious about how I kinda dommed this week’s discussion while also maybe not even contributing anything interesting??? idk. (see: the whole intro paragraph about my crushing self-doubt.) I don’t feel like I can say much about this movie without spoiling, so I encourage you to give it a watch. Especially if you’re a fan of Cumtown (Stavy plays an oddly important role in this film) or the other Yorgos/Plemons/Stone film, 2024’s Kinds of Kindness.
T - treating
My omnichord!!! It has been an absolute treat to connect with music-making in a more hands-on way lately with my omnichord. As I teach myself to play this funky platypus-esque hybrid instrument from the early 1980s, I feel like I’m grasping music theory in a way I’ve never been able to before. I’m making music I enjoy for the first time in my life, and it’s a very cool feeling.
I’ve thought about maybe even maybe someday maybe sharing the music I’m making maybe.
thanks for reading. talk soon 🫶
xo mal