i don't journal anymore + the uber book
CLASSIEST BEER IN A BASEMENT, GREENWICH ST. —
when i received my first journal in third grade, i made my dad pen a flowery “belongs to:” on the first page.
i wrote my name BOLD and pasted in my school picture —just in case someone comes upon the pink fuzzy princess-themed diary and wants it for their own.
in the years since, i’ve graduated past the pink fuzzy princess-themed diary but the journal shtick has stayed constant. where i used to write about middle school lunch table dynamics, i talk about how college is a stupid echo-chamber. where i used to write about popularity contests, i write about first impressions of new friends.
and where i used to murmur on about my latest crush, well, now it’s the same thing but with better (?) grammar. it’s been the go-to gift for me and by me, and served as a cringe chronicle of my earliest articulate thoughts to now. as we chatted about before, at one point my journal even became a rainy day fund of college memories for me to whip out upon nostalgia.
but, since may, my journal has sat comfortably in my suitcase. untouched. i’ve even bought an inky pen or ten, but i haven’t found the energy to open it and start scribbling.
more later, including why this princess diary is to blame, but first my words + reads.
my words: as i mentioned briefly last week, i wrote a review on mike isaac’s Super Pumped, a book about uber but actually a book about travis. here’s an excerpt:
Yet I don’t get the impression from Isaac he wants the reader to hate Kalanick. Nor does he want us to root for him. Instead, I sense that he wants readers to be dubious of the startups they use for convenience, and journalists to be even more skeptical of the hottest new app that might “disrupt” the world.
After all, Kalanick was only as big as the investors, employees, drivers, customers, and media let him become. And Isaac’s book, beyond Uber and Kalanick, is a tale of Silicon Valley’s culture. It’s the story of a world that doesn’t just support alpha-male white men; it rewards them handsomely, even in the face of controversy, abuse, and espionage.
etc: i left out three blurbs
1. someone almost body-checked me on market st. wondering how i got an early copy of the book.
2. i read this book while walking on market st. It was that good.
3. i finished the book right as uber set a new record low share price. take that as you will.
learning lesson: reading as a writer is really fun, selfishly. you read with the lens of an editor and take a second when the word choice stops you in your tracks. anyways, that was my first time writing a review! i’ve decided i need to read! a lot! more! it was energizing (see first sentence), already has impacted two pieces of my writing, and guided the way i think about big companies. tweet me your book recommendations!
unorganized tab time:
brex, yes that brex, is opening up a cafe
how an elite university research center concealed its relationship with jeffrey epstein
what happens when netflix buys a sweet old historic theatre
you know emily doe’s story. now learn her name.
anyways
a little catch up for new people here: things have been changing, i’m trying self care as a usual not a response AND attempting to have beyond surface level conversations every day. i am living in grounds ripe for inspiration.
in fact, as 360 of you know (which btw, thank you?!), i contemplate and think a lot and then literally use this newsletter to post about it. so all things considered, this problem is slightly ironic.
and all things considered, this week i forced myself to journal about how things have been going. i was met with 4 pages of a teary mess. then, i flipped a few pages earlier to my march thoughts and found a better pace, some insight, and dare i say….optimism?
here’s my theory: thanks to an early start via princess diary, journaling is true (scary) mindfulness for me. and right now, i’m not in the mood to be mindful. i’m emotionally tired and heart has gone from hanging ever so slightly on my sleeve to concealed until further notice. diving deep seems like playing with fire.
but i don’t want my inability to write to come at the expense of forgetting details from this time period in my life! remember? things are changing? self care is happening?
so this next week i’m going to try to dive just ever so slightly and journal every day. not about big themes and large feelings but about the stupid thing/funny conversations that happen around me. my hope is that my words start to sound natural again, and journaling goes from being that scary thing i’m avoiding to a natural resting place.
i’ll let you know how it goes, but in the mean time thoughts/tips/cheesy prompts are welcome.
again, thank you to the 360 humans who let me spend monday morning with them,
N
book club snacks! we finished our first book!