Katie
8:00 AM
I spend the first hour of the day playing New York Times games, responding to some DMs, and scrolling. There is a lot of social media activity to catch up on around Mayor Parkerâs recent endorsement of the proposed arena in center city. I manage the social media for my neighborhoodâs group in the coalition working against the project (No Arena Washington Square West), so I share some selected posts and comments. I allow myself a few minutes to feel angry before getting ready.
9:00 AM
Time for a shower. I got my bangs trimmed recently, and when I look in the mirror, they are sticking straight up, as if Iâve been electrocuted. That seems right.
Itâs been a long week, and I am moving slowly.
10:30 AM
Andy is doing laundry and reminds me to send him a list of any groceries I want him to pick up. Laundry was one of my designated chores growing up, and I have an unlikely and outsized dislike of it, so he almost always does it all. I thank him, crouch down to kiss our dog George, and head out.
11:15 AM
Arriving at my studio, I realize I havenât eaten today. Iâm not really hungry yet, but I figure itâs better to eat now so I can work uninterrupted. Lunch is a clamshell salad I grabbed on the way here; itâs passable, but it still reminds me to make that grocery list. Finally, I get to work. My new sander is waiting to be used on some parts of a painting I donât love.
3:24 PM
I look up and realize I have been painting for almost four hours. As is often the case, I wish I had made more progress, but I also feel like my brain just took a bath. This mental state is essentially the only one in which Iâm not tracking every thought that enters my brain. I let all kinds of things wash over me in a shapeless amalgamation: anger about the state of the world, nagging insecurities, a weird memory from middle school, wondering if that person will get back to me. I wash my brushes and scoot out the door.
4:06 PM
Andy, George, and I walk to the Mid Autumn Festival in Chinatown. We encounter a truck that appears to be held together entirely by duct tape and which is entitled âFun Cab.â Andy has seen it before, and says it usually contains drunk people performing karaoke. Itâs empty now, and it relays a wordless version of âUnchained Melodyâ as it passes.
4:15 PM
We arrive in Chinatown, passing through the friendship arch with a very overstimulated George. He is getting a lot of attention, weaving through the crowd, and looking for pieces of food that have fallen from the hands of passersby. He is not successful.
Iâm searching for the No Arena table, but first I spot Jena, who is in the process of being interviewed by Temple news. Some friends in the coalition are making Swiftie-esque friendship bracelets that are adorned with Mark Squillaâs phone number. I think this is brilliant.
5:30 PM
Back at home, I use the next hour to prepare for Mondayâs reading discussion. I have assigned Benjamin this week, which feels both contrived and necessary. I refamiliarize myself with previously highlighted passages and make a few notes.
7:12 PM
At Amiraâs house, Allyson opens the door and welcomes me inside. Amira is preparing a multi-course meal, with Ian playing sous-chef. A cheese board is waiting, along with fruit she seems to have yanked from a rococo still life. Dishes begin to make their way to the table: a fennel and cabbage salad with pepitas, eggplant stew, country bread, and brothy beans. Ian is tasked with making us drinks before absconding to âboy jailâ upstairs. We clink our pink drinks together and play catch-up. (A scheduling poll was deployed last month to find this mutual opening in our calendars.)
9:21 PM
Happy and full, we head to the couch. I am told itâs a tragedy that I havenât seen the dance sequence from A Knightâs Tale (2001), and I watch as a baby-faced Heath Ledger courts a princess (?) who seems to have styled her hair at Claireâs in the Oakview Mall. Allyson reminds us we are supposed to perform the Charli XCX âAppleâ dance together tonight, even though, at three months old, itâs not particularly relevant now. This does not interfere with our fun.
Iâm still too full to eat, but Amira says I have to try. As she is plating, she says, âItâs only a quenelle if you use two spoons; otherwise, itâs a rocher.â This is indeed an indication of how good the food was, including this choux, which she is filling with black sesame paste and concord grape ice cream. I hug my friends goodbye, tell them I love them, and roll out the door shortly thereafter.
10:24 PM
Andy and George are on the couch waiting for me. Itâs time for our nightly ritual: a Real Housewives anthropology session. We are currently watching the New Jersey franchise. Caroline is trying to convince Joe Gorga and Teresa to make nice, but at Richie and Victoriaâs joint birthday party, Rosie gets worked up about their feud, and offers an Italian chin flick gesture to Teresa. Things kind of spiral from there. The Manzo kids are kind of the Greek chorus of the episode, except for when Albie and Christopher are calling Lauren fat. Melissa is struggling with whether or not to reveal her fatherâs infidelity in her book, but eventually decides (on camera) that itâs not right to share that with the public. The entire spectacle really is amazing. We decide to watch another episode.
Katie is a print-based artist in Philadelphia. Though she has had many homes, Philly is her favorite city. She teaches at Sarah Lawrence College and Tyler School of Art.
