Midwesthetic: R.E.P.O.R.T. #01

Mommy's a little tired but she always provides.

I came pretty close to bailing on Midwesthetic this week but putting this silly, loser-blog into the world is something I made a commitment to and want to do more with. (More Midwesthetic ventures coming soon, if you care.) I’m the person who finishes books they don’t like and says “yes” to easy no answers.

That said, you’re getting a R.E.P.O.R.T. For those of you who don’t know, report is a quick list of recommendations, a recap, etc. Weekly, monthly, whatever and you’ve suffered through the chaos of my notes app enough. I famously love to crowd source, so let me know if 01: you like these 02: if you’d like this as an additional weekly or monthly occurrence.

R: Reading

“Conversations on Love: Lovers, Strangers, Parents, Friends, Endings, Beginnings” by Natasha Lunn has had me in a GRIP for the last two weeks. The book takes an almost investigative journalism approach, finding the answers to three major questions:

How do we find love? How do we sustain it? And how do we survive when we lose it?

Lunn enlists the help of experts ranging from psychologists and authors to people like you and me. After an enormous amount of complaining enough conversations on the topic of love ranging from romantic relationships to friendships, my friend Caroline demanded with the threat of violence recommended I check this book out. It’s great!

The first chapter alone is so good I read only that, over and over again for one consecutive week. Love is anywhere and everywhere in case you needed a reminder.

E: Eating

As someone who’s recently both gluten and dairy free, I’ll be the first to say I can’t be trusted on food recommendations anymore. I watch mukbangs and get misty eyed. I would execute vile/lude acts for a singular dunk into a Wingstop ranch at this point in my life. That said, I’m about to recommend a fucking frittata.

Sigh yeah, a frittata.

Once you get past the fact that I’m soft almond-momming you it’s kind of a nice catch-all dish. If you want your food to be a vessel to catch all the misfit foods in your fridge, I guess. And hey, there’s protein.

On a less more appealing note, it is yellow squash season. You should bread it and fry it— for me.

P: Playing

One of the Boys

Remember Katy Perry? One of the Boys is her first studio album and to be real, I could write an entire mdwsthc on it alone. Before ascending to pop heights (and sorta… falling out of frame the last few years?) Katy had edge. One of the Boys is punctuated with pop-punk references, indie sleaze and witty and charming lyrics that have felt largely absent in Katy’s music the last 10-ish years. If you haven’t yet heard (and oh, you will) Katy’s launching a comeback that has already been widely panned on TikTok, with users saying the lyrics and beat sound ripped directly from Chat GPT.

And don’t forget, OOTBs gave us pop-perfect “Hot N Cold” and emotionally wrought and devastating “Thinking of You.” (I vividly remember the belly-buttonless Kyle XY being in the video.)

My top two personal picks: “If You Can Afford Me” and “A Cup of Coffee.”

O: Obsessing

I’ll spare you what I’ve actually been obsessing over lately because no one other than Heather, my therapist, should be subjected to that. I’ll instead offer something more palatable: swimwear.

I don’t know what’s gotten into me. Swimsuit season usually makes me want to pop on a speedo one piece, some shorts, and perhaps a large t-shirt and beg surrounding pool or beachgoers to please not even turn their heads toward me. But I recently landed on a question that’s changed that for me, and that question is:

who fucking cares? lol. You look way hotter in a swimsuit than you probably think you do and even better news, no one is looking at us that hard. It’s awesome. Stay tuned for the haul of 10+ swimsuits coming to an Internet interface near you soon.

R: Recommending

I say this with extreme gravity, if you take nothing else away from this report let it be what I’m about to share.

By now, most of us have seen the online discourse around Chipotle giving us puny, unsatisfying bowls and the tepid, somewhat quietly horny (??) response from their CEO encouraging us to leer at employees and give them a head nod as a way to say, “please stop being stingy and give me more than two chicken cubes. I beg you, I’m so hungry and this is my source of serotonin for the evening.”

Well not to brag but I’ve literally never had that problem. My bowls have been lush and I’ll tell you why. I traveled, I researched, I synthesized patterns. You need to be traveling to the Chipotle’s near you and you need to be willing to commit to an extra 5-10 in the car. Here’s what you’re looking for: A Chipotle staffed nearly entirely by teenage boys.

Hand to God. You’ll never suffer through a puny bowl a day in your life. Teenage boys are hungry and self-absorbed. They’re giving you then portions they would give themselves. That’s beautiful. If I were a better person, I’d drop my go-to local Chipotle, but I’m gatekeeping sorry. Love you. Hit me privately and maybe I can be swayed.

T: Treating

A nice walk. Sometimes a walk can feel like work, especially when it’s 97º out and the humidity feels like an all-encompassing hug from an uncle you don’t really like that much. But short or long, alone or with a friend, it’s a treat. It’s the closest I’ll probably ever get to meditating and that’s useful I think?

Maybe listen to One of the Boys during it?

You change your mind like a girl changes clothes,