Aminatou Sow is the host of Call Your Girlfriend, a podcast for long distance besties. She is working on improving her sleep hygiene.
6:07AM, in bed– left my phone and computer in the kitchen last night because I didn’t want to to be tempted to text or read email in the middle of the night. I’m a lifelong insomniac who should take sleep hygiene more seriously so this feels like a small victory. I can feel in my bones that it’s 6AM though which means I got almost 5 hours of sleep. Pretty good for this lady. I head downstairs to turn off the outside lights and get some water. Glance at the stove clock and yup it’s very early. I’m feeling a little restless about a friendship rift so I throw on my jacket and head out for a walk.
7:10AM, Castro/Noe Valley border – Oh man that felt good. Rem has this really hilarious/excellent playlist I always put on shuffle for my morning walks. Nothing makes me laugh harder than when drake announces “I do not stay at the Intercontinental” on Trophies.
ugh still feeling some type of way about the drifting friendship but it’s been a crucial lesson in how important loyalty is to me. Living in a state of continuous #umbrage is usually v anxiety-inducing for me but I decide to shelf it for now. I’m annoyed at this person but if I’m being really honest, I’m more disappointed that I didn’t stand up for myself in real-time. In my book, you have a limited time [ ~a month???] to bring up grievances to a friend otherwise the statute of limitations expires. That is wildly unrealistic and I’m now a prisoner of my own ridiculous rule.
7:15AM, home – my main superpower is remembering to stock the fridge on Fridays with all the essentials for migas. I make them from memory but it’s basically the Homesick Texan’s excellent recipe. Please don’t trust anyone that tries to tell you chilaquiles and migas are the same thing. Chilaquiles consist of fried tortillas simmered in a sauce and they’re essentially garbage. Stay woke.
8:00AM – Throw on a caftan and finally ready to engage with my phone/technology and the first thing I see is an A++ video text message from MK. She’s in the car with RJS and singing along to Know Yourself. Ugh love those two so much.
L texts to ask if I want to go to this very luxurious spa in Sausalito later. He’s already in Sausalito and I love that place. I obviously really want to go but saturdays are sacred– basically the only day I really get all to myself and I can be very selfish about it. I come clean to him about wanting to spend a few hours alone and he responds: “that’s fine but I’m driving us back to SF AND you have to make me dinner tonight” Fair enough. I always appreciate anyone who is willing to give me the space I need.
8:59AM – PDC texts from Charles De Gaulle. Can’t wait to discuss when she’s back stateside. This book is devastating.
10:15AM, in the tub – ugh just remembered it’s halloween aka my least favorite day of the year. I can’t with most amateur drinking holidays but add costumes on top of that and I want to die. See also: St Patrick’s Day and SantaCon. Going to the spa now seems even more urgent. I email the work concierge and ask if he can schedule the services I need this afternoon. It’s all so last minute but we’re tight so he gets it done and I’m set for the afternoon.
I’m texting with MM about various weekend and professional developments. In an ideal world, I’d be back in Brooklyn, stoned on her couch and letting her curate my entire life. Very soon inshallah. That woman has the best taste of anyone I know, American or otherwise and her shopping recommendation game is unparalleled. One of the greatest joys she’s brought into my life is a group chat with JC who is a delight. I know they’re important to me because twice recently, I’ve made very embarrassing earnest confessions. Let your guard down 2015 is in full effect.
God I love this tub, it’s on the third floor of the house and the view is insane. Also shoutout Sonos. Speakers are blasting Patty Griffin and I’m singing at the top of my lungs But if you break down // I’ll drive out and find you// If you forget my love//I’ll try to remind you // And stay by you when it don’t come easy
Migas. Patty G. Good Austin nostalgia morning so far.
11:25, on the couch– My therapist emails me recommendations to a utah luxury resort owned by his ex wife [they’re on very good terms!] and the recipe for a smoothie I had in his office recently. He poached me from my other therapist so we get along very well. I have deep appreciation for mercenary tactics. I email him back detailing a specific way my rigid life boundaries are eroding and he responds “California’s making you soft. I’m proud.”
12:00PM – I interview Irin about her RBG book for the podcast and she’s the best of course. She makes this very important point that substance and fun don’t have to be in conflict but people [ugh the olds] often want to perpetrate the idea that things young women like are frivolous. RBG has been saying advanced ass woke shit since the 70s. Shit people are STILL arguing about today. The book is A+ and basically a feminist lady mezuzah. Have one in your house and make sure those important to you have one as well. She shows me our old apartment over skype and again deeps pangs of missing Brooklyn set in.
I fire off some work+podcast emails and now I’m getting annoyed.
NO WORK ON SATURDAYS.
12:40PM – pack a bag and uber down to the embarcadero to catch the ferry to Sausalito. This is a convoluted way of getting there but the ferry is great, the weather is stupid beautiful and who doesn’t want to take advantage of that?
1:38PM – I check in and immediately curl up by the fireplace to wait for my body scrub. They have all my favorite magazines [Khloe breaks her silence on the Lamar situation in People and it’s a must read tbh]
Work concierge has hooked up some extra freebies so I make a mental note to send him a nice gift next week. The grounds of this place have very stunning redwoods and eucalyptus groves so it smells and looks gorgeous. My main qualm in any spa situation is that I fucking hate massages or anything that remotely resembles one but I live for a good body scrub. More exfoliating, less massaging please.
The woman tries to convince me I need something called “infrared salt ritual.” Come on lady. We both know it sounds like bullshit but I try to not sound too bitchy when I tell her I’m already scheduled for a mud bath, a facial and a mani/pedi. Mud baths also sound dubious but I’m obsessed. Supposedly the combination of clay, peat and hot springs mineral water in the mud “relaxes muscles and joints, detoxifies and leaves the skin soft” LOL ok spa attendant lady. While you’re sitting there they also apply a clay facial mask and a cold compress. AND right after, you get to take this bananas hot springs shower and soak in your private jacuzzi that uses “the natural hot springs water that comes from the geothermal aquifer under our spa” This is all a lot of shit that I don’t really believe but in the words of rae sremmurd “I make my own money so I spend it how I like”
Between treatments I see a picture of Zadie Smith on Hilton Als instagram and immediately send it to LD+DCB+CM. We always joke that Zadie and CM are basically twins and that’s god’s honest truth. They’re both babes.
Separately JW sends a fabulous grinning selfie of herself in the woods and AA shows me her new apartment. I am so happy my women are having such a blessed saturday.
4:41PM – I remember that I have the Oct ‘81 Interview Mag with Diana Ross on the cover. It’s so gorgeous I have to send DCB a pic. Andy Warhol interviews her and I remember that he also did the iconic cover art for her 1982 album Silk Electric. I confess to DCB that I’ve spoken maybe a dozen words all day and it’s the best feeling. My favorite women are the ones not afraid of spending time alone. We also share our complicated feelings about a certain sad sack white man artist we’re both listening to. I finally declare “when you’re ready for something bubbly and exuberant, Carly Rae’s Boy Problems is the best” The manicurist can hear the song blasting through my headphones and says “I love that album! She sounds like Kylie Minogue and Cyndi Lauper” YES. My kind of lady. Turns out she’s a hardcore jepfriend and informs me that this song almost got tossed off the album. We decide that would have been Scooter Braun’s *BIGGEST* mistake since giving Bieber too much latitude to explore/find himself.
I’m delighted with my nail colors: malaga wine on the toes and Chanel singulière on hands.
5:24PM– I’m getting dressed and see I have a text from ML. I’m so proud of her. Slaying all her demons this year. Her updates have been a constant lifeline and the way she lives her life has really forced me to ask hard questions about how I live mine and what I am assuming. So grateful she chooses to share with me.
5:40PM, golden gate bridge – we’re driving back to SF with the top down and as always I’m mouth agape at how beautiful California can be. Marin County always makes me wish I was made out of $100 dollar bills and I feel terrible for thinking that. God. Class warfare is so real in my life right now. The fog is rolling in and it’s getting pretty cold. I convince L pot au feu is what we should have for dinner. In Marcel Rouff’s classic French novel “The Passionate Epicure” the protagonist wows his dinner guests by floating artichoke hearts “…like treasure islands…laden with a butter-fried-stuffing in which carps’ roes and mushrooms were mashed up together with cream” LOL please.
Fictional characters are *so* extra. People make a big deal about french dishes but this is essentially just a soup that requires a knife and fork. Basically the epitome of simplicity. My mom’s recipe is perfect and I have the exact wine right pairing for this– a médoc A brought over a few weeks ago.
I’m not a wine snob but my parents didn’t raise a savage either. I know the difference between and significance of médoc, haut-médoc and cru bourgeois. JK I’m a African/French nightmare of a human being.
6:20PM – dinner is under way and we’re watching Dream Lover, a James Spader movie I have never seen before. It’s an insane diabolical thriller with a disappointing ending but it’s still 100% worth seeing. I text CJ who shares my very strong James Spader feelings. He *has* to see this mess.
CJ is one of the wonderful humans I know and his friendship means so much. I wish he was here for dinner.
7 PM – the doorbell rings and I panic thinking it’s trick or treaters. There’s no candy in this house fools. and the porch lights are off so they know not to come here. Sex offenders aren’t allowed to turn on their lights or decorate their homes on halloween so I always morbidly think about this when I do the same. Turns out it’s just my neighbor who needs his spare keys.
9:20 PM – dinner was fantastic obvs. L has to catch a red eye to Mexico City so he heads to the airport.
I text A to see if he’s still up to vidchat. He just got home from a wild night so the time difference is perfect. We’re both drinking rosemary gin fizzes and wearing the exact same rick owens long sleeve tee. He’s so pleased that his bottle of wine was put to good use and feeling a bit tender about his new haircut: “I should have never let a Belgian man cut my hair” which is so ridiculous but also very A. It’s sick but I always feel deeply happy when straight men share their body/appearance insecurities.
I show him these very VERY ugly Ann Demeulemeester trousers I really want to buy. The caption reads: “Carrot-shaped dark khaki trousers in wool cotton with a single rectangular patch slip pocket at side. Slip button pockets at rear. Dry clean. Made in Belgium.” He’s not having it: “Belgium again! Don’t do it” Wise. Wise. God I miss him so much.
We talk about Bieber/Sorry. Well I talk about Bieber, he tells me if he’d known I was a belieber when we were falling in friendship, he would have probably reconsidered. I don’t believe him and he finally admits that he likes the song. DUH WHO DOESN’T LIKE TROPICAL EDM?! Skrillex knows what he’s doing.
10:30PM, Corona Heights – I’m playing African jams and fucking around researching korean face creams and debating buying Mary Katrantzou pieces on sale. NB calls to see if I want to come over for a drink. NB is one of the most civilized people walking the earth today –she always calls to make plans. It’s a quick 20 trek over there but oh my god the halloween crowd on castro street. Oh. My. God. I arrive completely overwhelmed.
KR and his very beautiful+smart girlfriend come over as well. Time goes by very fast
1:30 AM, uber – def not walking home through that madness again so I call a car. Fetty Wap’s 679 comes on and both the driver and I sing along.
1:39 AM, bed– slightly tipsy trying to compose a text to NT to see what she’s doing for breakfast tomorrow. Auto-correct lets me know it’s time to put the phone down. Still glowing from the spa, I brush my teeth and change into the coziest olatz silk pyjama set. L left me a book on the dresser, “Half an Inch of Water” and tucked inside a note: “Fallback tonight. TRY to enjoy that extra hour of sleep but if you can’t, this is also good.”