• 11 Nov, 2025 *

V sent me a text he got from Mom this morning:

MOM: Did u vote for the new mayor? MOM: The new NY mayor, u will have to pay more city tax, but u r not eligible for those low rent apartments. Fixed rent doesn’t benefit to [sic] u at all

“His proposed tax is only for people who make more than one million a year,” I texted back.

“Apparently Mom thinks I’m a millionaire,” V said.

V is well compensated but still remains far closer to me than someone bringing in a million a year. He is also most definitely still eligible for rent-controlled apartments.

Factual inaccuracies aside (because the facts never seem to matter to Mom), it’s strange to me that my parents cannot fathom why someone would vote for things that don’t directly benefit themselves, given that they’ve dedicated their entire lives to making sure me and V had a better upbringing than the ones they did. I’ve mostly given up on discussing politics with my parents, especially with Mom. Dad is an apathetic abstainer from civic duty but is at least somewhat informed. Talking to Mom about politics is like trying to argue with someone with a blindfold on who refuses to take it off. She doesn’t read the news or have even the most basic understanding of how the federal government works, let alone state or local government. If you bring her the information, she’ll dismiss any part of it contrary to her beliefs. Arguing with her makes me wish that some government and civics exam (or something demonstrating that you actually understand the relevant issues) in order to vote.

* * *

Last week I bought a new watch I’d been eyeing as an early Christmas gift to myself. Today I sold the one I’d had before it that I’d stopped wearing. It made me feel good, seeing the crisp bills in my wallet and feeling one watch lighter.

“You didn’t want to keep it? You know, for sentimental value?” J said when I told him.

As a sentimental person I of course understand that desire to never part from the things you once loved. It is, however, overwhelmingly overruled by my compulsion to get rid of my things, to lighten the load of my material possessions. I always feel like I am fighting a neverending battle against acquiring things. I get them so many ways: friends gift me things; I get things for work or for my hobbies; and, worst of all, I sometimes succumb to advertising and/or boredom by getting myself something I want but know I don’t need. The effect of all this acquisition is that all of this stuff overflows from my organizers and encroaches on my space. It makes cleaning harder (so much more stuff to move!) and occupies my mental space. Did I clean that? Where’s that thing again? It stresses me out more than I like to admit.

One of the things I like most about New York is that Facebook Marketplace actually works. If you have something you want to get rid of, there will probably be someone out there who wants it, provided the price is right. I’ve sold more than ten of my belongings since I got here, and even though other belongings have appeared to fill the space left behind (gah!), it’s nice that the option is available to me. In suburbia the same things that sold here in hours would languish in obscurity for months on end.

“I should do that,” J said. “Not get new things until I get rid of something else.”

It sounds so nice, doesn’t it? I find it so much harder to implement in practice. Have you ever tried getting rid of perfectly good things that you still use? It feels like such a waste. If it did anything, adopting that rule would only prevent me from getting more things.

#english #wordvomit