Was 2020 a good year for, like, anybody? Not me, that's a fact. Well, Kamala Harris and Joe Biden had a pretty good year. But for all the rest of us plebeians, the past twelve months have been brutal. I'll be honest - I cried almost every single day since March. Maybe that's because I'm a Cancer, or maybe that's just because I have had a lot of chances to be sad.
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This has been a pretty lonely pandemic, especially for the elderly. After all, humans are social creatures, so "social distancing," no matter how important, is a direct contradiction of our neighbors. For younger people such as myself, we easily navigate the technological realm to breach the gap via FaceTime, Snapchat vlogs, iMessage, and Zoom. But seniors aren't so gifted.
*** CONTENT WARNING: DISORDERED EATING ***
Somehow, my very mean Hispanic family has dubbed me with two simultaneous and possibly contradictory nicknames: "gordita," meaning little fat girl, and "picky," meaning... picky. They concurrently decided that while I will eat anything and everything set on a plate before me, I will also refuse to eat any of it. So what is the truth? Do I love food, or do I hate it? The answer is both. A lot of people have a pretty stereotypical idea of what it's like living on the California coast. Having lived most of my life just inland of Malibu, I get it - I, too, love the lazy summer days that we are known for. Wouldn't it be paradise if I could pass both my summer AND winter breaks driving down the PCH, basking under perfect sunbeams? Well, too bad. Cause that's not real, and Miley Cyrus and John Mayer were lying to you when they wrote their songs about Malibu. Being a coastal city along the Pacific, early mornings and late nights are humid and chilly, and winter storms can get brutal. Last night was one of them
Most of you know I am a big fan of Carly Rae Jepsen (every single song she's made has been a banger). When I heard her Christmas song, titled It's Not Christmas Till Somebody Cries, of course I was impressed and unsurprised that she, once again, hit the nail right on the head. The video depicts a family tearing itself apart over Christmas dinner as parents feed fish to the vegan boyfriend, Grandpa eats the edibles, and everyone is generally running a short temper. And in this pandemic year, of course her parody looked exactly like my family's real Christmas.
I'm not normally someone who listens to classical music in my free time. As a matter of fact, the only classical music I know are the bits and pieces I gleaned from Little Einsteins episodes as a child, as well as the fragments I remember from when I played piano (but we don't talk about that). Anyways, I've been challenged to expand my musical horizons by one of my friends - he writes a blog here, which I love reading, even though most of the time I have no idea what he's talking about. Last week, I jokingly suggested that he review one of the greatest bangers of all time, Girls in the Hood by Megan Thee Stallion. And he did. So, for the good karma, I'm here to review "a Mahler symphony," per his request.
Whenever I see proposal pictures on Instagram, it seems like they all follow a script. He popped the question, one post might read, what a surprise! another post is captioned. But the thing is, for me, it is rarely a surprise. I've probably been watching your relationship grow via social media for the past couple of years (or, in a rarer case, months). If it's not a surprise for me, then why should it be for you? Don't couples normally discuss these things ahead of time? However, there was one surprise engagement today that did do its job in shocking me - that of a former classmate.
This is not my first Winter Solstice. As a matter of fact, it is actually my eighteenth Winter Solstice. But every year, when the days begin to shorten and the sun begins to set earlier, when the wind chill settles just a little bit deeper in your bones and the night air is constricting instead of refreshing, I am somehow shocked and offended. Every year. And in 2020, the year where everything has gone to shit, with no exceptions, of course the cherry on top is the dismal Winter Solstice.
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About MeHi! I'm Andrea. I really like words. Categories
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