Hello friends! You may or may not remember signing up for this newsletter? In which I sometimes brag about small achievements, often grouse about writing, and, from here on out, always recommend a taco. Skip down, if you like. I won't be offended.

It's been a few months. What do I have to show for it, even. Mostly I've been working. I spent the better part of Jan-April casting Tim Gunn and Heidi Klum's new series for Amazon Prime, to be dropped in 200 countries later this year. I'll keep you posted. It's always anticlimactic to deliver our shining, perfect cast and then have to wait what feels like eons for the show to air.

Is anyone watching the Project Runway "reboot"? I am not. I watched half of the first episode, deemed the designers insufficiently talented and the production values poor, and gleefully turned it off. Didn't even get to the part where Christian Siriano is supposed to mentor. It's uncouth, probably, for me to bag on Runway. I loved working on the show—for eight seasons, can you believe—but it was time to move on. I was actually relieved when Bravo snatched it back, and out of our hot little hands. Reality TV has been a bit of a detour for me. It doesn't get me any closer to directing features. But. Having a steady, once-a-year gig has gotten me closer. Bought me time to work on my own projects. And though I keep swearing I'm done with casting, it was fun to tackle a new challenge with our (BRAG ALERT) Emmy-nominated team.

Weirdly, it's easier to brag about stuff that's not so important to me.

The other stuff, the important stuff, is coming along. Slowly. This week I'm in a bit of a funk. The thing is, now that my time is my own again—fuck. I have no excuse not to write.

Writing sucks, you guys. 

Am I allowed to say that?

I hate it. I hate writing.

I just searched my email for "writing sucks," concerned that I might have covered the topic before. Miraculously, I did not unearth seven previous issues of this newsletter containing that particular phrase. But I did find a terrific bit of advice from one of my old profs, Harold Apter: "Writing sucks, okay? It's about setting aside the time to go through the fucking pain." 

When I was in his screenwriting class, I scrawled that on an index card and tacked it over my desk. Maybe it needs to go back up there.

Setting aside the time to go through the fucking pain. That's the key, isn't it?

Anyhoo.



Let's get to the taco 🌮✨

R and I recently spent a few nights in Miami, which, if one taco joint may stand in for the multitudes, I am happy to say is not a bad taco town. We tried a smorgasbord of tacos from Bodega Taqueria y Tequila (please don't ask me where I got the recommendation) (okay, it was goop) (I'm a dork!) and my favorite, from the specials board, was the gringo steak, another delicious hard shell Taco-Bell-esque taco. I'm proving to be a real gringo, huh? That taco was SO GOOD. The pastor taco was pretty good too, although the "salsa rosada" garnish just tasted like special sauce. No bueno. Bonus: there's a kind of dive bar/speakeasy through a not-so-secret secret door, that serves drinks until 4am. (The tacos are on offer until 5.) At 2am on Easter Monday, R bought me a vodka soda and we bounced along to the hip-hop and salsa tunes and appreciated the diverse clientele and felt, like, almost hip.

*****

This month in print: I devoured Red Clocks by Leni Zumas in, I think, two days, but wound up paying six or eight dollars in overdue fines because I didn't want to give it back to the library. Set in a near-future dystopia, where abortion and fertility treatments have both been outlawed, the novel is a terrific character study of four different women living on the Oregon coast. Someone should make the series, pronto.

This month onscreen: Josie Rourke's Mary Queen of Scots is an almost BETTER? true-life Game of Thrones. I keep describing things as "Shakespearean"—The Favourite, Billions, and I mean it as a huge compliment—but this one is truly Shakespearean. Also: gut-wrenching. Holy shit what women have been put through.

This month in overalls: While googling some overly chic, sold-out French workwear, I landed on these puppies from Etsy, and I like 'em even better. $80 including shipping from China. Everyone should own a pair.

*****

xoxo,
Laramie

p.s. If you like this newsletter, which I have experimentally renamed "The Taco Diaries," please forward it to someone. If you're seeing it for the first time and you want mooooore, subscribe below to get it once a month.