Week 33, 2026: She's from everywhere
I don’t think I’ll do Week 33 justice because I’m writing about it while wading through Week 34 emotions. There’s a big chunk about handshakes for some reason.
Two guys got chatting on the subway when the older of the pair asked about the other’s tattoo. I overheard him say it was a quote from a Harry Potter book and that made me pause my playlist and partake in a cheeky eavesdrop because it’s not everyday you cross paths with a guy with a Harry Potter tattoo. The tattooed guy and I soon learned that the question was a preface for a scammy ploy and yet, when it got to his stop, he shook the older man’s hand and said nice talking to you man.
I was thinking about that on Sunday, as I was helping a woman on the subway. We’d walked a block together, then taken a bus and the subway, where she handed me her phone to navigate directions. And yet, when we went to part ways, a handshake felt wrong. It felt like we were past that point, even though I didn’t know her name. Talking to her felt far more intimate than shaking her hand, so a farewell handshake felt like a step backwards. It would’ve been establishing a boundary rather than introducing intimacy. She said enjoy the movie and all I could do was smile, get up and leave. What fascinates me about farewell handshakes between men is that they seem to carry a different weight and meaning: a step towards closeness where touch is involved. I find farewell handshakes really cute.
I did enjoy the movie. I watched The Odyssey because a chick working at a Chick-fil-A told me a week or two ago that I need to go to the cinema and watch it. So I went to the cinema and watched it. The best part of watching the film happened later that day when I got to make a trojan horse analogy. Briony really liked my analogy and said I’ve inspired her to watch it and Briony is a wonderful bubbly girl so now I like my analogy too. I met her at a line-dancing event that Anouk invited me to and felt her energy radiate through me whenever she so much as looked my way. She was talking about a girl she started seeing when she suddenly stopped to talk about my eyes. What a wonderful bubbly girl.
What’s in a week? There were a couple runs and shopping sprees. Many tubs of hummus and one round of GeoGuessr with my father. He got Tunisia and I got Taiwan. I was wearing a black sleeveless top and a black midi skirt at the event where I met Diane. It was raining and I was not dressed for the weather because I prefer to dress to the exact temperature of my bedroom. Does it look like I’ve just gone swimming?, she asked and stepped back to let me take in the sight of her. She looked very dry. No, I said, I would not look at you and think: this woman has just been swimming. We exchanged numbers after a short chat and it felt nice to go talk to other people and know with certainty that we were going to reflect on those conversations together later. And we did, over a big greasy breakfast.
It was a quirky event hosted by a very funny guy. Every corner in the room had a topic that was submitted through a QR code and you could submit the topic of your dreams and then stand in your little corner and have a little chit-chat. Psychedelics. Cycling. TV Shows. Agentic AI. Hotdogs. Mine was Conan O’Brien. The first two people that came to my corner were from Boston. One of them was called Neil. I know that because I spent the rest of my night talking to him and he gave me his business card. We talked about stand-up and travel and I was awe-struck at how many cultural references we shared. He was telling someone where he was from and pointed at me and said she’s from everywhere. That’s right, mate.
What's in a week: I met Diane on Monday and then had breakfast with her on Saturday. Hung out with Anouk on Wednesday and danced with her on Sunday. Dined with Jemima on Thursday. We met at a bar, a reference library, a Greek eatery. Chatted about New York, Vienna, Paris. Parted ways outside a diner, a streetcar, a Greek eatery. It’s good for the soul to dine out and shoot the shit with somebody you mesh with conversationally. Whenever I see or hear the words shoot the shit, I think of Brian Wilson because of that documentary he filmed not long before his death where he said he misses just shooting the shit with someone. I get snotty whenever I watch it.