I absolutely ate it on a gallon of Dr. Bronner's last week
and other bad things that have happened
Hello Sternal Journalists,
Last week, I spent the first night back in L.A. after the holidays cleaning my apartment. It took hours and had me up late, but it felt worth it to start my year off on the right foot.
The next morning, I waltzed into my kitchen, buzzing with excitement to be back with my thrifted Nespresso machine after two weeks away. My waltzing was so unworried, so blithe that I did not at all notice that a large puddle had materialized in the middle of the kitchen floor. This puddle, as I did not yet know because I did not yet know there was a puddle, was a puddle of Dr. Bronner’s 18 in 1 Hemp Lavender Pure Castile Soap.
This soap is famous for its labels being printed with its namesakes manifesto, and for how you can use it for anything (dishes! hair! hands! floors!), but it is also famous for being highly concentrated.
So when I stepped with the pep I was stepping with into what I would later realize was a full gallon of Dr. Bronner’s, my feet went out from under me so fast and with such force that I swear, like Wile E. Coyote when bested by the roadrunner, I became fully perpendicular to the ground, turned to spike a camera, and blinked twice (these blinks made a “PLOINK PLOINK” noise) before slamming into the ground.
It hurt a lot. I yelled loud enough that I was worried my neighbors heard, and when I texted them, it turned out one of them had heard (“I was really worried!”). Once I scrambled out of the goop, I ran back to bed to catch my bearings. I was covered in highly concentrated, all-purpose, manifesto-radicalized soap. It took hours to clean up. I am pretty sure it only happened because I was rearranging cleaning products under the sink during my marathon “let’s get ready for the year” cleaning session, and I must have shoved something into the bottle of Bronner’s, puncturing it. So if I hadn’t tried to better myself, I would not have greatly worsened myself.
And while I was engaging in the painfully ironic act of cleaning up a cleaning supply (made also physically painful by my broken butt), I thought for sure it would be the worst thing I’d have to deal with for a while.
…
I thought wrong.
It’s pretty dumb to write through an active tragedy unless you have important facts or poignant catharsis to share and I have pretty much neither of those. But I’ve also had a lot of people reach out to see how I’m doing and if I’m okay, so this feels as good a place as any to report that I’ve very much been one of the lucky ones in the horrific fires that have been terrorizing Los Angeles.
I live closest to the Sunset Fire, which was the “good fire” to live by. It is weird to be in a time where there is a “good fire,” but that’s what it is. Compared to the lethal and destructive Palisades and Eaton fires, my local fire was contained and extinguished with expediency. My partner and I still stayed for a couple nights with a friend further South because (a) a lot of people we knew were leaving our area; and (b) if we didn’t, we’d have to wake up every now and then to check if we needed to officially evacuate by checking Watch Duty, L.A.’s hottest foursquare-for-fires app.
This is the best-case scenario in L.A. right now: “The fires aren’t threatening me right now, but I better keep checking the fire app to make sure I don’t need to abandon my home and never see it again, a horrific thing that has happened to people I know. Also I’d like some clarity about whether it’s safe to breathe.”
I’m grateful to be a part of that scenario, and I ache and break when I think of the people, places, and animals the city has lost. This is a shitty time. It is way worse than my still-hurt butt.
Perhaps the only thing of use I can say is: if you’re like me and dropping into a stress spiral that you aren’t doing enough to help those affected by the fires, but can’t figure out how to help because there are so many options, just go to the place closest to you.
You don’t need to give to or volunteer at every place you’re seeing on Instagram. There is a drop-off point for donations somewhere in your neighborhood. Just go there and ask what they need. They’ll either say “literally anything” or they’ll have a very specific item they have run out of. It is a great start and, worse case scenario, they’re all full on donations but can direct you to somewhere that needs them! It’s dizzying to figure out how to start to help, but the best way to do it is to do it!
I’d like to have some big, uplifting, SternalJournal-y ending, but I also think it would be a lie! So instead…
Recommendations!
Contemplate the word “monger.” Activity. Today, I was driving and said to my partner, “why do we only monger fear and cheese? Those are different things.” And she said, “Well there’s also fish… and war!” And I was like, “Those are exactly the same kind of different things!” What’s up with that? You could think about that for a little while.
The Perfect Mile. Book. This book about how the four-minute mile was broken by Roger Bannister is a blast includes a lot of play-by-plays of historic races. All my runners will love this one.
Ruby. Album. This 2018 Macy Gray album was the first everrrr recommendation in a Sternal Journal. It is great and uplifting and about overcoming things.
Rush Hour 2. Movie. It’s my favorite movie and we should all feel empowered to splurge on our favorite things right now. You all know it’s a part of my personality to love this movie, but I bet none of you have given it a chance for quite some time. Watch it. It will put a smile on your face.
That’s all for this week.
Much, much, much, much, much love!
Julian!
P.S. here is a picture of me that was taken the moment I slipped in Bronner’s:
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