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I woke up this morning, got out of bed, made my coffee, sat in my favorite chair*.

Same as the last twenty days. Groundhog Day**.

Except the only way I know it’s not Groundhog Day is that everyday, I am a little bit different.

You know, ever so slightly more disheveled. 

 

So I sat in my favorite chair, I looked in the distance, with a profound, worldly expression on my face, imagine The Lion King overlooking the savanna, solemn music and all, and I thought : 

DUDE, DO YOU REMEMBER RESTAURANTS? HOW AWESOME THEY WERE? YEAH!!!

When will come the blessed day were I’ll be able to eat an oyster again? 

 

Yes, my thoughts and my cravings are now officially all over the map.

 

I mean, this week was the week where I was supposed to get my shit together. 

I had a plan [name code : Stop Eating Carbs] a goal [name code : Not To Become a Feral Animal] and, I am sorry to report, I failed.

 

Like right now I am writing to you from my bed, drinking my third coffee under a hoodie like I’m Drake or something and I am trying to understand why my first thought as I opened my eyes this morning was “Oh Shit”.

 

I guess it goes like that :

 

——

 

The first week my textometer was through the roof. My friends and I were all over each other - Should we wear a mask? Is this all a joke? Or the end of the world? What do we do about yoga? Camille we don’t care if you hate yoga hihihihi. Wait did you see the news? What do we think of this forced vacation!? Yeah, we’re deep, my friends and I. Concerned. Almost too political.


First week we were still adjusting, making plans, even liking this, kind of. 

I’ll exercise. Here. Dowloaded the yoga app. Bam! Watch me getting even more in shape. I’m going to come out of this a winner. Cooking? My new passion. Totally. Gardening, too. Or, I don’t know. Knitting. Reading that book. Meditating. Starting a newsletter. Ah!!! All these things we had pushed off for years that this “moment of planetary breath” as us woke people (!!!)(ah!) call it - would finally give us the time to explore. 

 

Oh, also, guys. First week. NO SWEATPANT RULE, OBVIOUSLY. Pffff. Nope, No way.

 

I mean put yourselves in my shoes, will you? 

Imagine quarantining with someone you fell in love with pretty recently, and then isolating together as you were still pretending to be a fresh plump miracle of nature that you’re definitely not, a lot of work and good lighting goes into looking this fresh and clean, who are we fooling. 

 

A fresh plump miracle of nature does not drag herself around the house in her sweatpants, thank you very much, bye.

 

—-

 

It’s only on the second week that I truly realized that if I didn’t want to file for bankruptcy I’d better quit acting like a deer in the headlights, stop talking about yoga and get my toned ass back to work. Oh lord, how superficial were we (a week ago). Suddenly all the power men and women that I call my friends came out of their bloody savasana and looked at each other through Zoom*** with the unmistakable expression of grit. It was time for action.

 

I made myself a sort of military schedule and powered through my week like I’m Michelle Obama on a save the world mission, except my only mission was me, and that's why I am not Michelle Obama. 

 

Wake up, check on family and friends, work, exercise, house cleaning, work, cook, TEQUILA.

 

[I would be giving you a wrong picture of my quarantine life if I didn’t mention the delicious tequilas I make myself everyday. And the New Zealand wines, which we should agree is a cultural course I am taking, you know? But I’ll get back to that in a next newsletter. I mean have you seen the lines around the liquor stores? Can we blame ourselves? I vote no.]

 

Second week, I made myself cute interior plump miracle of nature outfits, like, you know, I’m cool and interiory but still chic and sexy, and ooops, yeah it’s the strap of my sexy bra you just saw hihihi ooooh la la la!!! (oh god shut up already)

 

Yeah, second week I was like, YEAH, WATCH ME QUARANTINE. I GOT THIS.

 

——-

 

Which takes us to waking up this morning to my first thought being, Oh, shit.

 

Because it’s Saturday morning here in New Zealand, end of third week for me, and, yeah, let’s just say the third week is the week when the truth [In the manifested shape of a very, very lose pair of sweat pants and a very, very disheveled bun] came out.

 

Cooking everyday is WORK. 

Also you have to clean the kitchen after. THREE TIMES A DAY.

Gardening? Yeah, sure. But have you tried buying your tomatoes? I know, genius!

 

As far as knitting.

We need to talk.

I had pushed it off all my life. Because, oh, here is the news : I DON’T CARE ABOUT KNITTING! LIKE NOT AT ALL!!! I do not want to wear my own scarves EVER!!! 

 

Third week, my definition of cute interior outfits broadened widely. Sweat pants, they can be cute, right? If styled well? I mean even Jacinda Ardern the extremely charismatic leader of this lovely country makes her political homechats in them. SO. I am Prime Ministerial.

So it’s cool, right? Sweatpants? Yeah, totally cool, dude.

 

That’s right. Third week, I started talking to myself, calling myself dude, and negotiating stuff with myself, such as : should I wait until the end of quarantine to do my hair color, because fuck it

 

Third week, because fuck it became an acceptable term of negotiation. It’s like I’m at the quarantine court, and the quarantine judge is asking me “Miss Doré, why you didn’t keep your hair color schedule on track so that you can look presentable to you co-quarantiners?”, and I answer with my most respectable expression : “Well, your honor, it’s because fuck it!” and she stares at me above her glasses with one eyebrow very very high, takes her time and then says “Well, what was I thinking? You’re absolutely right! Acquitted! Next case!"

 

Third week, the yoga regime is under siege. Couldn’t keep it up. I started with one hour classes everyday, and now if I complete a twenty minute one every other day I feel very accomplished. I may or may not have been texting over half of it, but it’s the spirit of namaste that counts, right? 

 

Third week, LETS NOT EVEN TALK ABOUT MY CARB CONSUMPTION.

Chocolate has become as acceptable meal. Because fuck it.

 

And yes dear readers. Of course, just like you, I have caught myself counting down the weeks left of official quarantine and shamefully thinking WELL, at least I have three more weeks to get back on the horse and exit this crisis as the creature of light I was when I entered it!

 

Please do not end the quarantine before I am ready, GIVE ME AN EXACT DATE, OKAY!!! 

I need a warning!!!

 

Jacinda, when the country is ready to come out of it, just call me on my cellphone late night when you need my love  to let me know - so I take my jeans out of their self isolation.

 

 

——

 

 

So now I really believe fourth week is when we’re going to give all we have and make this quarantine the heaven we all pretend it is. Okay no one pretends it is heaven except us woke people uhuhuh sorry I couldn’t help myself. 

 

We’re going to cook great food, knit wonderful scarves, plant the tomatoes, educate the kids, do our workouts everyday, never forget the make up, buy from small companies, have tremendous sex, and clean our house like we never did before. Share it all on Instagram “to uplift our communities”, you know? 

Oh, and we’re going to work remotely too!!! How could I forget that!!! 

 

Fourth week, you guys. It’s where it’s at.

 

——

 

 

 

But back to this morning. So I wake up, make my coffee, look at the news, tell myself Oh Shit - but an oh shit that wasn’t just about my tiny little self and my bloody yoga practice. No, this morning’s Oh Shit is the Oh Shit of I hope all of us will be fine, I hope our health workers will be fine. I hope our parents will be fine. I hope you’re fine. 

 

I hope you remember that the art of handling the hard news is to keep a healthy balance between altruism and selfishness. 

 

That yes - most of us who read this newsletter are privileged but that it’s not a reason to not care for ourselves and the world and / or to not laugh at ourselves and the world. That it’s in this balance between the infinitely superficial and the infinitely deep that lies our humanity. 

 

That we do what we can to protect ourselves, and others from the virus, yes. 

But also to protect ourselves from fear, from feeling alone and from hate with one thing - compassion.

 

And that there will be no exact date when we’ll come out of this, but that as long as we do yoga hold each other, we’ll be alright. How’s that for woke? ;)

 

 

——

 

*Since I now have one because, like all of you, I feel like I have retired early. A favorite chair, a favorite cup, and you're guessed it : a favorite pair of sweatpants.

** For those of you who haven’t seen Groundhog Day, I’d say it’s the perfect time to watch it. For my dear French readers to whom I apologize profusely about not translating this newsletter (but if I start translating it, it’s going to become a job, and I want my newsletter to not be a job), the movie is called Un Jour Sans Fin, it’s so great, watch it!!!

*** And therefore pixelated and entirely deformed. But gritty.

——

 

LAST NOTES BEFORE YOU GO BECAUSE I REALLY CAN’T LET YOU GO.

 

 

1/ If you want to know why I drew a leaf, it’s easy, it’s because I am lazy because it’s a fern I saw on the hike I do everyday. I’m turning into a nature illustrator, yup.

 

2/ And if you want a recipe, this week I advise SALAD. Enough chocolate cakes already! Let’s get that 4th week under control! But send photos of the chocolate cakes you baked last week, pls! And oh yeah I might have planned crepes. With Nutella. Gaaaaah!

 

3/ Links links links, because I have been very overwhelmed with the response to the newsletter and my nerdiness has its limits, I don’t know what to do!!! - so I’ll just put the links here.

 

This is to subscribe.

This is to read the first newsletter.

This is my Instagram.

This is my website, Doré.
 

Oh, and we’ll do another chat Monday, how’s that? Same time? Monday 3.30 EST works?

I thought it would be cool to invite some of you to come on lives with me - I received an email last week that I found super interesting about self-policing and Social Media. I think you’ll like it!!!

 

——

 

That’s it for this week, happy 4th week of quarantine or whatever week you’re at, a big hug, and lots of love, my dear readers.

 

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