Bamboo Thoughts

it's way past my bedtime

This morning I found myself stopping my DoomScroll on TikTok to watch a baby panda bear eat bamboo. It just knew exactly what to do. You have to break the bark a bit, peel off the outer layer, slide that off and then crunch on the stalk. Botanists are calling my description, “wrong.” There’s a finesse to it. A distinct motion. A choreographed series of events transforming raw material to palatable snack. The whole process amazed me, and I watched it a few times. I wondered when the panda learned this technique, or if it’s just rooted in their DNA. What do we know how to do when we’re born? 

I was born in the spring of 1997, and I had jaundice. My parents stuck me by the window in the sun to ripen like an avocado. The only thing I knew how to do when I was born was the cha cha slide. I was born at Shady Grove Adventist Hospital, but I was almost born at Il Pinito Italian restaurant. Being born at an Italian restaurant would have been a really neat Joker origin story for me, but they call it the lottery of birth for a reason. 

So my mom gave birth to me in a hospital like a normie. From the moment I could talk, I said “basketball.” My older sister was the biggest Wizards fan and I had a Michael Jordan onesie. This early, formative event led to my absolute indifference towards the game of basketball. The only sports I recognize are olympic diving, bumpy skiing, and the Westminster Kennel Club Dog Show. 

My parents started a grocery store chain together, which led to my fascination with food, especially when there are too many options. (My parents later got divorced, which led to my fascination with the Parent Trap.) I am notorious for ordering the wrong thing at restaurants. I want to see what they can do and I love to set myself up for disappointment so sometimes I’ll order the pasta primavera at a seafood restaurant. 

What is this week’s newsletter about? Should we check in? I think it might not be going well, but I also am not sure who is reading this. This is the part of the blog where I tell you that I slept 4 hours last night because I was on a long phone call and then had to get up at 7am to go to the dentist. So what I’m doing now is a stream of consciousness. The dentist told me to “say hi to New York” for him, and also that I “could maybe get your wisdom teeth out, if you want to.” I don’t want to get my wisdom teeth out because I think my extra molars could one day win me an eating competition. 

Did I lose you? Maybe this entry does not have a theme. Sometimes I don’t have one. Here’s a thought: when a man says he isn’t emotional, I think that means he’s never seen the 25th Anniversary Les Mis concert. And it’s on YouTube so he has no excuse.

Here’s a story: My AP World History teacher once told me to “return to planet earth” but to be honest I’m still out here in space, and it’s beautiful.

My birthday is May 15th which some Instagram account says makes me stubborn. It also makes me loyal. It also means that I’m sensitive. I am a stalk of bamboo, please don’t eat me! Let me cover you with shade.