2018

2018

I’m by nature a sentimental person; I hoard train tickets, old books and worn-out sweaters. So the New Year can definitely be a trap of saccharine platitudes, but I figured that (as a part of my New Year’s Resolution) I would write something small to bring in the new year.

• • •

In 2018, I wish for retribution and comeuppance for those, many of them men, who harassed, abused and maligned people under them, many of them women.

I wish for a cleaner understanding of where we go from the weirdness and pain of 2017.

I wish for clarity, for my friends and our journey deeper into the post-graduate sphere.

I wish for action that follows action; like empowering black women with more than a simple “Thanks” after they turned the voter tides against Roy Moore for Senate; like protecting and uplifting queer people, people of color, women, immigrants, the disenfranchised, and particularly for any who have an intersecting identity of any or all.

I wish for spines, for those who stand on the sidelines and empower by omission.

I wish for cleansing of Instagram envy and LinkedIn covetousness.

I wish for a deeper understanding of the pregnancy situation in various unnamed American socialite families.

I wish for fiscal responsibility, for a better understanding of taxes and retirement.

I wish for grace under pressure.

I wish for more confidence in tackling challenges of work, journalism and adulthood.

I wish for us to leave Hillary Clinton alone, and to further unpack our own roles in passivity.

I wish for a better iPhone.

I wish for shows that I like to get recognition, and for Vine to come back.

I wish for media that shines light in dark places, that limns authenticity and provides platforms for those who deserve it.

I wish for grit for people who stand up against the machine and perseverance to stand by their truth.

I wish for empathy, in times when that is the hardest and sparest commodity.

I wish for us to talk about what we like more, and to love more than we hate, and to uplift more than we diminish.

I wish to understand how Owen Wilson still gets roles, and I wish for the maturity to be happy for him.

I wish for good things for Kelly Clarkson, for no reason other than that I think she deserves them.

• • •

I don’t think that what plagued us in 2017 is over, but I do think that it was a beginning step into something better. Let 2018 continue the trend of toppling patriarchies, providing stages for minorities, and righting some wrongs that have gone unacknowledged.

This year was, as Sarah Silverman said in a monologue on sexual harassment for her show I Love America, “like cutting out tumors. It’s messy and it’s complicated and it is going to hurt, but it’s necessary. And we’ll all be healthier for it.”

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Life

BAI 2015

So I’ve written 99 posts throughout 2015, and could you imagine if I didn’t make it an even 100 before the New Year arrives? That would be the biggest case of writing blue-balls ever!

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2015 was kind of a stellar year for me. I was in great shape—which was then ruined by going abroad and getting v ~broad~—I watched a lot of TV; I went abroad—am I a total douche for mentioning ‘watching TV’ before living in Europe for three months—I made a ton of fried rice. And it looks like 2016 is going to be another rockin’ year.

Here is a very silly, but entirely real “2016 To-Do List”:

1). Register to vote.

2). Either learn what “fam” means or have the willpower to not care.

3). Discover a new band to listen to.

4). Get an internship.

5). Take a least one artsy “who me?” Instagram picture.

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6). Wear white without getting food stains on it.

7). Go an entire day without looking in a mirror.

8). Go an entire day without saying “literally” or “like”.

9). Do more than 12 pushups at one time.

10). Bench at least my body weight.

11). Do a yoga class.

12). Rent a bike and go biking.

13). Do the Chicken Nugget Challenge (50 nuggets + 30 minutes = me dry-heaving).

14). Ask out a definitive 8+.

15). Ask out someone based on their “personality” and not their “cute butt.”

16). Get up at 7 am for a week and just go on Tumblr.

17). Care more about Britney Spears.

18). Read the BBC news website at least once a week—I’m lowballing because I have low expectations for myself in this arena.

19). Smile at one stranger—at least—a day.

20). Practice self-care.

For 2016, I also want Lorde to release a new album and for Scott Disick to get his shit together. That’s literally all I want from the pop culture gods. And blog-wise, I would like to get to 150 posts by the end of the year. That would be nice, and frankly not impossible.

But for real, in 2016 I want to give a lot less shits. I feel like I’m very concerned with what everyone else thinks of me and that needs to stop. So this year—2016—I’m going to focus on what makes me happy and try not to worry so much about the opinions of those dummies. Also eat more dark chocolate—I’ve heard it’s good for you.

I semi-hate New Year’s Eve—the pressure, the celebrating over the corpse of the year almost gone, and the idealistic goals for the new year—but I want 2016 to start so it can be great and I can do lots of fun things with my loves, so New Year’s Eve is a necessary hurdle. One thing I will not be doing in 2016—jumping over hurdles, legislative or physical. 2016 will be hurdle-less.

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So I hope that you all have a safe and good New Year’s Eve. I hope that all of your days are bright, and your nights are full of Netflix. I want to thank everyone for coming along with me on the first year of my blog, and I want to put a hex on anyone who thinks that I’m a 6/10. We all know I’m a 7.

So in conclusion: I’m a 7. An 8 in Denver.

HAPPY NUDE QUEERS EVE!

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