#045: On reality and conflating feelings this summer
Diary entries, notes, whatever you want to call it from my 3-week European summer stint
July 29, 2024
I woke up to a text from my mom urging me to root for America during the Olympics too, and not just for Korea. I replied with “Why would I do that?” and she insisted that I cannot alienate my followers. I’ve only ever really felt national pride for Korea, so this is confusing to me but I will keep note to make sure I’m always sharing real experiences and feelings with my audience. I get her sentiment.
July 31, 2024
I started my summer vacation in Paris to watch the Olympics for a few days. How lucky I am to have had an opportunity like this. And yet, I prematurely cut it short before I even got to Paris in anticipation that the Olympics would be an absolute shit show that I did not want to partake in. It was the wrong decision, one that I know I will regret for days, weeks, months, years?! I just got to Lake Como and I wish I were still in Paris. I am often frustrated at myself for my inability to stick to my decision, enjoy the moment and not dwell on how my situation could be even more ideal had I not made said decision. The older I get, the more I understand that this is a result of my extreme conditioning to a good time. I am forever committed to feeling like I am doing everything right, maximizing an opportunity and feeling good about where I’m at, both figuratively and literally.
I’m upset because I wish I stayed longer to watch Korea win some more medals. Go to more of my favorite wine bars while the city was clean and empty and peaceful, a rarity. Watching the Olympic Games is actually so much fun. For the first time in a really long time, I felt real camaraderie, real sportsmanship, real collective joy. It is so needed to experience and witness collective joy.
August 1, 2024
I’ve heard so much about Lake Como over the years. I feel like this place had a real moment five, six years ago. It’s one of those places that could either very well be worth all the hype or extremely overrated. So far, I think it’s the former. It’s actually fucking beautiful here. A totally different landscape from the Italy I have known — seaside cliffs, lidos and sexy cities like Rome. Switzerland is just 20 minutes away and I’m reminded of that time my parents put me in summer school in the mountains of Switzerland, the landscape kind of like the distant mountains you see from the lake: grand, alpine-y, precious. I didn’t particularly like my experience at that summer camp but now that I look back, it’s yet another example of how I never truly appreciate things in the moment. So much of what we did in camp I would kill to do now: hike, swim in glacial waters, forage for some local greens and cook them. I must give myself a little grace… I was thirteen and when you’re thirteen, concepts like gratitude and self-awareness aren’t so sharp. I didn’t even know who I was or what I liked. Only time and reflection can make me realize a sweet moment for what it was. I’m trying to enjoy that sweet moment right now being here in Lake Como.
I wonder what my camp roommate is doing now. She was surely the daughter of a Russian oligarch because she only wore Blumarine. She annoyed me so much because her flip flops made the loudest clicking sound and woke me up way too early every morning. She gave me a Blugirl tank top when we said bye at the end of camp because I complimented it one time. I thought that was very sweet of her and I’ve loved Blumarine ever since.
August 2, 2024
The food in the nearby towns of Lake Como is bad, but Tanya warned me of this so I’m not too bummed. For a few days, I’m in a storybook fairytale setting at Passalacqua, which was voted the #1 hotel in the world by World’s 50 Best last year. I hate lists like this because what do these organizations (media companies?) know about what’s best in the world, especially for ME? With my discerning taste?! I can’t stand World’s 50 Best’s restaurant list so I’m not going to put too much weight on this distinction. But… Passalacqua is definitely one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever been to. I feel like I’m in someone’s private home slash private art gallery. The other guests are surprisingly unstuffy and unpretentious, which is refreshing. This adds to why it feels like I’m in someone’s home.
Lately, I have qualms about being in spaces where I’m seemingly not supposed to be in. Like how if I wasn’t a content creator I would not have access to some of the places I stay at or afford the things that I have. Or if I didn’t hang around people who have homes in certain places or have a certain level of affluence (and real influence) that gives way to being in certain spaces, I wouldn’t be in them too. I’m not saying I don’t deserve to be here right now but my sense of reality is warped when I’m in such a heightened state of luxury. I love these experiences but I’m not always used to them.