These days, people love to heed the call to inaction: Stay home and calculate the exact right time to shower for optimal REM sleep. Maximize every moment. Bail on the party to which you hastily RSVP’d. Learn to put yourself first.
But so much of this advice, branded as “self care,” leads to isolation — “protecting your peace” at the expense of building your community.
Be honest: When you cancel plans with your friends, are you really meditating? Cold plunging? Adding another chapter to your novel?
Or… are you just doom-scrolling in the dark?
In 2025, our jobs require more of our brain power, energy and literal time (for less pay) than ever before, making the free time we do have even more precious, and the task of deciding what to prioritize even more difficult.
This week, we’d like to make the case for increasing activities — not shower-calculating or cold-plunging, but the ones that actually make life worth living.
As usual, we had a lot of work on our plates this week. And, as it happens, we had a few fun things we wanted to add, but very little money to do them.
Normally, we’d Just. Say. No. — citing lack of funds, time, or energy. But, instead of imploding under the pressure of it all, and locking ourselves in our houses the minute the sun set at 1:23pm, we decided to say “Yes!”. A lot.
And it turned into the best 24 hours we’ve had in a very long time.
It all started on Thursday, the last day that we knew for sure we could see our friend’s independent movie in the actual theater — an experience that we can never fully replicate in our homes. But, we also had a work event to attend.
How would we choose?
In a past life (like two weeks ago), we might have skipped both, and thrown in the towel. But, after some digging, we realized that even though the movie was no longer playing in Manhattan, it was playing at a weird little theater in a remote part of Brooklyn that wasn’t too far from the work event.
Whoa! Maybe… we could do BOTH?
Despite the seasonal depression cloud looming over our end-of-the-week daze, we dashed out of work in a hurry to change for our first event of the night.
Our podcast pal Arielle Nissenblatt was throwing one of her Earbuds Collective networking mixers, that started at 7:30 sharp. So we threw on a coat of red lipstick, and actual coats, shook off the stress of our day jobs and braved the winter chill.
Mingling with new people can be intimidating, but we have never left one of these mixers not feeling more inspired to keep making our dreams come true — shoutout to Lauren Passell. And, on top of that, this party is always at Ruth in Prospect Lefferts Gardens, a neighborhood that’s a little far afield for us. We could either choose to find that inconvenient, or see it as an adventure, with new places to explore, just waiting to happen. We choose the latter.
Like last time, for example, we discovered that we could eat impossibly well (paired with icy cold Coronas) all for very little money at El Castillo de Jagua.
This week, though, we knew we had to get closer to the movie — which started at 10pm (on a school night, can you imagine?) And what do you know, Ayat, a Palestinian restaurant we’ve been meaning to try, has a location not far from the theater in Ditmas Park. It’s a neighborhood known for its charming, unusually large houses and tree-lined streets, but we found that the hidden gem is actually… its local Duane Reade. So hidden, in fact, that Rachel thought it was closed.
Turns out it just looked like the lights were off from the outside. Once inside, the fluorescents shone their usual nausea-inducing glow, but we barely even noticed, because this was a magical Duane Reade.
First, we were greeted by a security guard dressed in combat gear who, at first glance, looked terrifying but then proceeded to go out of his way to move three pallets of inventory so Rachel could grab one folder.
Then, of course, there was the line. Oh boy, here we go. We’ve been in a line at Duane Reade before. We know how this goes. Someone needs a price on something, someone doesn’t know how to use self-checkout. There is one person manning the checkout for the entire store. We expected people to audibly huff and puff. We expected to out-huff them all.
But on this magical line, the only noise anyone made was a giggle and a laugh as we all scanned the various impulse-buy items lining the shelves on the way to checkout. This rag-tag gaggle of Brooklynites, so visually distinct in every way, all bonded over a box of holiday-themed Ritz Crackers. “It’s a collector’s item!” one exclaimed. “Let’s go get a sleeve of pre-sliced cabot!” another suggested.
By the time we got to the checkout, we felt compelled to thank the cashier for inviting us to this drugstore rave. She joined in the laughter as she rang us up for a .63 cent flimsy school folder. On the way out, our weapon-toting security guard graciously held the door and implored us to “keep spreading the positivity ladies!”
With the thrill of an unusually pleasant drugstore experience behind us, we thought the night couldn’t get any better.. And yet, from the moment we walked into Ayat and they had a table for two (take THAT, Resy) we were in the thick of the “yes” magic. We maybe did not need to say yes to as much food as ordered, but that’s a story for another time.
On the way back to the car, we ran into a group of four well-fed feral cats, bellies plump with a fresh meal. As we approached them, a cheery woman welcomed us to a new block party - this one run by the local cat lovers. She explained how a group of strangers met over their shared desire to feed the feral brood. Over the past several years, they had organized to take turns feeding and checking in on them. COMMUNITY!! YES!!
We could have stayed there for another hour chatting, but Rachel is terrified of being late to everything, especially a movie. Because this film was a local NYC production, and this was seemingly the last night you could see it in the theaters, Rachel had convinced herself that it was going to be flooded by the friends of the filmmakers and would be sold out.
That is not what happened. What happened was we got a parking space in front of the theater, we approached the box office and the friendly man sitting inside seemed confused why we would want to see a 10pm screening of a film he hadn’t heard of.
“Don’t you mean you want to see “Wicked: For Good?” he inquired, one eyebrow lifted.
After consulting with his manager, he sold us tickets and told us that even though it was supposed to start in five minutes, the theater wasn’t quite ready. We proceeded to watch the two of them run vacuums back and forth and throw out some trash - apparently they weren’t expecting us after all.
But all that was okay because the Kent Theater is a relic of another age - and one of the reasons we wanted to make the trip. This place is old. It’s weird. It’s wacky. It’s full of arcade games, a startling number of promotional popcorn buckets, and top notch signage. It’s not a place we had ever heard of or had any real reason to go to before today. But it’s perfect. And the tickets are dirt cheap.
When they finally let us through, Jamie ordered a $6 fountain soda (Cherry Pepsi). Shout out to the cashier who warned her she could buy one cheaper in the bottle — we appreciate the honesty, but we are fountain soda people.
As we entered the empty theater, thoughtfully cleaned JUST for us, we couldn’t believe we’d scored a private screening of our friend’s movie for $11 a head.
Bunny, written and produced by Mo Stark, Ben Jacobson, and Stefan Marolachakis, was the perfect NYC nostalgia tale to see in a theater from a bygone era — before cell phones, when apartments were community hubs, and neighbors had a reason to get to know each other. As a group of friends who love to meet new characters everywhere we go, this was a perfect end to the night.
You can stream it here and read more about it here.
But the fun doesn’t end there. A few weeks ago Rachel saw a poster with a simple request: “Come smoke a cigarette with me” on Friday, November 21, from 2:00-2:05pm.
An older man named Bob requests the company of other smokers in the city to get together and have a good old fashioned drag. We couldn’t say no. And neither could the (apparently 2000) other people who joined us. It was a hectic, chaotic, crowded, hilarious, sweet, somehow kind of emotional experience.
That evening Rachel’s daughter had a performance in Queens. On the way in, we popped into a bar across the street for a quick pre-show drink. “Should we do it? Right before we go into a school?” we thought to ourselves. But then, why the hell not?
The dose of tequila made us loose enough to weep in front of other parents as we witnessed the earnest power of musical theater students baring their souls.
Afterward, with two tired and hungry teens slumped in the backseat, we contemplated where to go at 10:30 at night. What is open these days?
Thank god, Kellogg’s Diner reopened in 2024 and revived the 24 hour diner option for those of us looking fora food and fun in the middle of the night. We had frozen margaritas, one of the best (and most affordable) milkshakes any of us had ever tasted, some nachos, a patty melt & a banana split. It was perfect. Decidedly less hipster than we expected, just full of regular people looking for good food at a good price. The playlist was great, there was a drag queen a few tables down from us. It was a party.
We spent the rest of the weekend working, but will be keeping this newsletter bookmarked as a reminder that while hard work and taking care of yourself is important, sometimes it’s equally important to just say “Hell YES!”.
P.S.
This is the kind of work we love to do, and hope to continue doing. If you enjoy it, and it’s within your means, please consider becoming a paid subscriber for less than a banana split, so we can continue telling stories about communities, for the community.