Summer self wants its routine back
Accepting discombobulation
I find myself discombobulated by more than the 400 AQI level of smokiness that currently envelops Toronto. I’m here for work, staying at a hotel that’s now become my regular, where I know-but-don’t-really-know the curt barista with the I-was-formerly-in-a-band-you-should-know energy, or the cast of front desk people who warmly greet me when I come and go on the daily. I’ve now stayed here 6 times in the last year, so have a relationship to a place that’s both familiar and yet not-so-familiar that I can feel at home. I wonder what they think I’m doing here.
I have coffee shops I like, and know where to get a great cardamom bun. I have tried multiple yoga studios, and liked one enough to buy a 10-pack of classes last December, but then didn’t go with enough frequency to use up all my credits before they expired. I know how to move on certain east-west forms of public transportation that run up and down Queen West, but don’t understand the best ways to travel North and South. I’ve twice been stopped this week by people asking for directions, which suggests I walk with the fluidity of a person who knows where they’re headed. I’m going somewhere; I’m not lost.
My coworker, who’s lived here his whole life, said it seemed like I knew more restaurants and parks and neighborhoods in Toronto than he did. I laughed and said it was the gift of being untethered, being kid-less during my time here, and by remaining just oblivious enough about neighborhoods and distance and anything’s pre-existing reputation to poo-poo an idea based off of inconvenience or any preconceived notion.
Each time, I find this both incredibly liberating and deeply destabilizing, and when I return to my hotel room on the third or fourth night, often find that I’ve become the most degenerate version of myself, scrolling on multiple devices at once, having a glass of wine in bed (I get one complimentary from the hotel after qualifying for an “extended stay”). It’s the only time I ever go on TikTok. I eventually stop scrolling and find a movie or show to watch. I watch said movie or show until far, far too late—it’s 1 a.m., 2 a.m., 3 a.m. My contacts are so dry, but I have forgotten my glasses, and yet. I wake up berating myself for my lack of self-discipline and meander down to my curt barista to humble myself for a coffee.
It makes me think of all the ways that summer, unto itself, is an exercise in submitting to lack of routine, and with that, loss of productivity, and with that, perhaps a sense of being in disarray. It’s too hot one day, it’s too smoky the next. The exercise habit you worked so hard to routinize all spring slips into the occasional guilty jog around the park. It’s ice cream before dinner and after dinner. One colleague is away this week, and another one next week, so the deadlines keep pushing. Camp starts at different times in different locations for each kid, and some require bathing suits and towels, while others require closed toed shoes that can’t be crocs.
Ada’s been at sleep away camp for a week and a half, and Julian was with his uncle, cousin, and grandparents last week, so my summer thus far has also been formed by absence, a spaciousness that makes one a bit adrift after the frenetic pace of June. I know little about what they’re doing. I get occasional photos. I try to submerge the anxiety of wondering how camp is handling the smoke, the heat, the rain, whether they’re cooperating or being helpful, or whether they’re wearing sunscreen.
On the first few days, I cleaned like mad, throwing away dead markers, old stickers, fidgets, candy wrappers, broken keychains, beads, orphan socks, and so much paper. I filled the time catching up on work, calling insurance about medical bills, going to the studio I rent but never get to enough, playing tennis in sun hotter and brighter than I should. I’d lay on the couch midday, watching soccer or Wimbledon, restless in my commitment to any one thing, whether work or relaxation or spectating or cleaning, trying to ground myself, find my focus.
This evening, I fly back home, admittedly a bit anxious for order, for not living out of a suitcase, for less smoke, to get back to the kids, to playing tennis. What I’m craving, I suspect, is less discombobulation, more predictability, my sense of routine. And yet, I hang onto the liberation of less expectation, less predictability, the necessity of being responsive, and a little more open to wherever the season is going to take you.
Recommendations:
To watch: On one of the extremely hot nights this week, I went to see The Invite, the new A24 / Olivia Wilde movie (also starring Seth Rogan, Ed Norton, and Penelope Cruz) about two couples who are neighbors in an apartment building, who get together for dinner, and have an evening that takes so many unexpected turns. I was not prepared for this movie to be so, so funny; the cinematography is great, and each of the four protagonists plays an essential part of the dynamic. Recommend watching in the theater so you can laugh along with others.
Sunglasses: After trying many mid pairs of sunglasses, I got sent a pair of these Sunski Baia Sunglasses and they are my new favorites.
Currently reading: Cassandra at the Wedding by Dorothy Baker, about a young woman in Berkeley who goes to her twin sister’s wedding. Full of family dynamics, sibling sabotage, and many other antics.
A balloon drop at a wedding. Highly recommend incorporating a balloon drop in wherever possible!
balloon drop! Some gems i’ve discovered this week in Toronto: Davang Luna, a very cute Korean bakery-cafe Ariel took me to with various types of tteok-based pastries, salt buns, and great drinks. Saigon Pai had the best vermicelli noodles. Waterworks Food Hall has lots of great food options in an industrial-turned-food space. The beefsteak tomato toast with zaatar and labneh at Brodflour is 10/10. Buk Chang Dong Soon Tofu for the spiciest tofu stew in K-town. The spelt cinnamon swirl at Robinson Bread.
Excited to try: Yellow Pear Cafe, a new Cantonese cafe in the space that was formerly Larry’s Ca Phe in Park Slope.
To read/see: “New York Teens at Home” — a peek inside the bedrooms of an array of NYC teenagers. We are currently moving the kids into separate rooms so enjoy seeing the array.
Recs, please:
What are some of your favorite NYC summer outings? Destinations? Itineraries? Places to go get really good fro-yo?
prospect park, ice cream from heaps if you are in brooklyn, dumbo's brooklyn bridge park, front st pizza. nyc i'd go to lanterne for candle making workshop and get noodle in chinatown after or nom wah dim sum (or noodles nearby). if there's anything specific, happy to chime in again but my brain does not remember names rn having left new york in march. lol. i remember there was a few places near e village has very nice stuff like durian coffee (2 cafes within the same 10 block radius). and you can get aura photos in chinatown at love letter nyc.
"Camp starts at different times in different locations for each kid...while others require closed toed shoes that can’t be crocs." Incredibly relatable. I had to explain to my 6.5 year old why Crocs weren't acceptable for one camp despite being closed toe.