I Climbed Mt. Whitney and All I Got Was This Stupid T-Shirt
But I also had an amazing trip up the mountain. I was with my sister. We’ve been estranged for a while. And we were connecting as much as we were climbing. It’s funny—putting yourself in a difficult physical situation (continues on back of shirt) can have a positive effect on your emotional well-being. I sometimes wonder if depression and convenience are more insidiously linked than we like to think.

I’m With Stupid
But I’m using the experience to try to learn from Stupid. Emerson said, “Every man I meet is my master in some point, and in that I learn of him.” Although, to be frank, it’s hard to think of Stupid as my master because he insists on repeating the same paranoid conspiracy theories. And I’ve tried (continues on back of shirt) to tell him that Finland is a real country, but Stupid keeps saying, “Show me a map! Show me a map!” And then, when I show Stupid the map with Finland on it, he just says, “But who made that map?,” and kind of raises his eyebrows like he’s caught me in a trap. And so I tell him, “Rand McNally,” and then Stupid’s all, like, “Does anyone actually know this ‘Rand McNally’ guy?,” and I want to answer him, but by this point it feels moot.

Don’t Talk to Me Until I’ve Had My Coffee
And, even then, maybe don’t talk to me. We’re just sitting across from each other on the G train—why do we need to talk? And before you accuse me of perpetuating an individualist culture where we’re all “buried in our phones” (continues on back of shirt) and can’t muster any kind of real human connection, you should know that I have actually read Jonathan Haidt and impose strict phone curfews in my house. I just don’t want to talk to you until I’ve had coffee because I know I wouldn’t be my best self, and excuse me if I want to make a good impression.

New York Fuckin’ City
is what my father says whenever we talk about his retirement. He spent the past twenty years living like a monk in Hoboken and saving his cash so that he can finally retire to a modest studio apartment in the city. But, as he was responsibly planning his future, New York City turned into what he calls “a cesspool of bankers and trust-fund kids and Russian oligarchs buying ghost (continues on back of shirt) apartments while the rest of us are pushed to the outer boroughs, schlepping in every day to make their lattes and pick up their snotty kids, who will one day grow up to be the bosses of our kids as New York gets dragged to the final circle of Hell.”

Eat Sleep Spin Repeat
This is what my life has become. I am reduced to four activities, and the last one is just a demand to perform the first three again. What happened to my life? I used to be interested in (continues on back of shirt) culture. Julie and I used to go to St. Ann’s Warehouse, in Brooklyn, and the Met. Now all I do is eat and sleep and spin. I don’t even like the spinning. It hurts my calves, and the teacher always singles me out.

Rosé All Day
(continues on back of shirt) I have a drinking problem. ♦