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Dear city I live in

I woke the other day and made miso oatmeal, stirred through with honey and roasted pistachios. Correction: I finished making miso oatmeal–most of the labor had been done the night before and I had slapped a “Julia’s Oatmeal, please leave here :)’ post-it on the pot lid before I turned in for the night. Three months ago I wouldn’t have thought to claim my various food experiments (my most recent ‘meh’ horchata attempt could have sat on that refrigerator shelf for months if I didn’t finish drinking it first, my family is that hands off about things).

But that was three months ago.

Last time I circled vaguely around a Big Scary Thing that I’d resolved to do this year and… well, I did it. I moved at the beginning of February! to New York City (center of the universe, times are sh-tty, but I’m pretty sure they can’t get worse; let’s… not tempt the Evil Eye with that)! Or at least I think I did–my body and my little cookbook collection and my clothes are here, but I still largely feel like I’m on an extended vacation, somewhere between limbo and the present tense.

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Happy New Year, dear readers and friends! [she says–borderline aggressively–while giving 2016 a final boot into its nameless grave] I spent New Year’s Eve with an at-home hotpot session: six of us bumping elbows around the coffee table in our living room (the dining table had… Read More

December 2nd

The other week, one of my oldest friends in this life (16 years!) mentioned to my other friend (of equal oldness) how she gauges how things are going by how often I go between new posts. She was casual about it; I laughed sheepishly and… Read More