January 1st has come and gone, and we now find ourselves in the barren wasteland that is fast-encroaching mid-January. Did you make any resolutions? ‘Cause I can tell you right now, I sure as hell didn’t.
You know what I did make? Goals. Vague goals, sure, but specific enough to be actionable.
Also, I say things like “actionable” now, because I’m officially out of my mid-twenties. Gross.
So it’s been just under a week since I dropped the first episode of what’s ur fave, my love child podcast, and I couldn’t be more over the moon with how it’s been received. I didn’t know how much of a passion project it would morph into, especially just imagining it, until I started making it. I knew I definitely wanted to start a podcast, if only because I thought it’d be easier than my previous (and numerous) forays into vlogging/video-based content. I’ve quickly come to realize that calling it a love child is probably the most accurate label I could’ve given it.
What’s that line again? Oh, yeah – “Don’t call it a comeback”, LL Cool J circa 1990.
Sometimes I feel a little bit like a KPop band, with their multiple “comebacks”, usually set only a short 1-2 years apart because to them and their industry that’s regularly regarded as a long-ass time and people become irrelevant real quick. That’s a hard thing to think about, to someone who often finds herself stopping for long periods between cycles of creativity and projects, and also because the longer I leave in these off-periods, the harder it is to get back into the swing of it. I do think there is something to the fact that I try and am still trying, but it’s difficult to not equate those periods with complete and utter failure.
Over the years, I’ve come to realize that I’m unfortunately capable of being full on, flat out, boy crazy.
I allowed it, sadly, to shape a lot of my own self-perceptions while growing up, and having a boyfriend became the be-all end-all of my existence. Those feelings would later inform me on how to act in my first (and only, to this day) relationship; I was manipulative and manipulated, emotionally abused, isolated. Real fun stuff. If it weren’t for a literal intervention, I’m not exactly sure when I would have gotten out of that relationship. I was angry for a long time after that (mostly at myself), but I think at the heart of it I was scared that it would happen again. I’d make the wrong decisions, burn what remained of my bridges, and become a person I hated.
Life’s been pretty weird lately, in the way that it usually is – a mix of highs and lows, good and bad, dry and rainy (no! bad rain!). Now that I am apparently a legitimate grown-up with a nine-to-five job, I’ve turned into a weekend warrior, where everything I do on the weekend is to the extreme. I either aggressively nap and laze around all day, or spend a full twelve hours going on cute adventures with my friends when we were originally only supposed to meet for some tea. The latter happened a couple of weeks ago. I met up with Cindy, Cat, and Avery for high tea at La Petite Cuillère, a tea house on main street. We were served by probably the nicest woman in the world, like, she was sweeter than all the sugar cubes we took with our tea. It was amazing.
There’s no doubting I’ve been in a mood lately, and things have been happening so fast and at such weird times and in terrible and terrific ways. It also doesn’t help that Daylight Savings is an evil sucking assface.
In other news, I figured out how to operate the remote for my camera! (There were victory arms.)