Hola 2017
I figured I'd do another one of these to be annually consistent (I am the least consistent writer I know).
So, fuck off 2016, you totally sucked, but here are some things that I will blog about.
1. I finally, FINALLY, was able to get through three seasons of "Person of Interest". I had started it when it premiered, but I had to drop it because that Thursday night timeslot (how the fuck do I remember it was on Thursday nights?) was a killer.
2. Season three of "Person of Interest" gets BLOODY dark. I mean, like, shocking me with how dark shit gets dark. I always knew this series was meant for me.
3. "Westworld", bitches. "Westworld". My new obsession. My new "Lost". My new reason for believing in the good of the internet because I would have never figured that shit out without it. Also... related to "Person of Interest" in a big way.
4. I did finally complete one full series in a binge format. I got through "Stranger Things" in its entirety on the Friday it premiered. It just took a series that hits all my sweet spots to compel my binge. That being admitted, I haven't finished anything else really. I haven't even gotten past my beloved "Bloodline"'s second episode of second season.
5. Went another year not talking to my horrible aunt although she did make contact in December of 2016 which went about as well as any passive aggressive email could go.
6. My Annie got a year older and (maybe) a year wiser, but her emotional tether to me is disconcerting at times. For example, the dog had an emotional and nervous breakdown outside a shop that I went into in November for a total of 10 minutes. It was such a loud and annoying and weird breakdown that I had to pretend I wasn't the dog owner (she was outside with my mother - I didn't leave her out there by herself) while everyone in the store was talking about the dog outside having the breakdown.
7. I didn't think anything could hurt worse than David Bowie suddenly ascending and then Prince and then Rod Taylor (shut up, I am a HUGE Rod Taylor fan) and then, finally, George Michael.
If Simon LeBon, Nick Rhodes, or any of the Taylors pass away before this year ends, I am calling it quits.
8. That's right. Duran Duran is my religion.
9. Seriously though, finding out that Prince struggled with an addiction like that. Prince. It floored me. This floors me even though a close family friend died in the exact same way. I've known peers who have died in similar ways. Still. Prince? He was really adept at keeping that secret.
10. And it all leads back to George Michael.
I was gifted a surprise birthday party when I turned 13 or 14 (I can't really remember but it was junior high-8th grade) and one of the boys I grew up with gave me Wham's "Make It Big". I even remember him saying, "I love this album so I'm giving it to you." Seriously. He said that. He later was admitted into rehab in 9th grade, but he was a wise soul. Writing this reminded me of his name, but I won't share it. I never had a crush on him (too blonde and too drug addled, but he was always that person who seemed to know more than you at every age), and he eventually played bass in a band with one of my best friends. I'm sure he has no memory of buying Wham's "Make It Big", saying that to me at my birthday party, or even being at my birthday party. I remember though. It was seminal.
I played that album within an inch of its life. I learned every lyric. I danced by myself to that album. I fell in passionate innocent love with that album. I fell in love with Andrew and George and all those glorious, happy music videos and the neon clothes and the shirts. Remember the shirts? REMEMBER???
I wanted one of those tees more than life. I am crying over this photo by the way.
I am positive this is some sort of facing-my-own-mortality-grieving-for-my-loss-of-innocence thing, but I have been rocked by George Michael passing away at 53 years old. It's not right. He should have live long enough to have been re-discovered and respected as the brilliant wordsmith that he was. I challenge you to listen to "Freedom '93" and not acknowledge the honesty and courage those lyrics are. I still listen to "Freedom '93" on a weekly basis. It never gets deleted off my main playlist.
I don't care if he had a secret heroin addiction. I only care that he felt loved and accepted at the end. He was a brave man who changed my life for the better in 1983. Hell, I listen to "Make It Big" at least twice a year and sing every lyric and dance by myself like a 13-year-old.
That is a legacy to be proud of.
P.S. I did eventually get a t-shirt, but mine said, "Feed The World" (my other obsession in life is Band-Aid), and had Snoopy and/or Woodstock on it. I think we got it Nordstorm. There's, at least, one photo of me somewhere wearing it. I relish that photo.
So, fuck off 2016, you totally sucked, but here are some things that I will blog about.
1. I finally, FINALLY, was able to get through three seasons of "Person of Interest". I had started it when it premiered, but I had to drop it because that Thursday night timeslot (how the fuck do I remember it was on Thursday nights?) was a killer.
2. Season three of "Person of Interest" gets BLOODY dark. I mean, like, shocking me with how dark shit gets dark. I always knew this series was meant for me.
3. "Westworld", bitches. "Westworld". My new obsession. My new "Lost". My new reason for believing in the good of the internet because I would have never figured that shit out without it. Also... related to "Person of Interest" in a big way.
4. I did finally complete one full series in a binge format. I got through "Stranger Things" in its entirety on the Friday it premiered. It just took a series that hits all my sweet spots to compel my binge. That being admitted, I haven't finished anything else really. I haven't even gotten past my beloved "Bloodline"'s second episode of second season.
5. Went another year not talking to my horrible aunt although she did make contact in December of 2016 which went about as well as any passive aggressive email could go.
6. My Annie got a year older and (maybe) a year wiser, but her emotional tether to me is disconcerting at times. For example, the dog had an emotional and nervous breakdown outside a shop that I went into in November for a total of 10 minutes. It was such a loud and annoying and weird breakdown that I had to pretend I wasn't the dog owner (she was outside with my mother - I didn't leave her out there by herself) while everyone in the store was talking about the dog outside having the breakdown.
7. I didn't think anything could hurt worse than David Bowie suddenly ascending and then Prince and then Rod Taylor (shut up, I am a HUGE Rod Taylor fan) and then, finally, George Michael.
If Simon LeBon, Nick Rhodes, or any of the Taylors pass away before this year ends, I am calling it quits.
8. That's right. Duran Duran is my religion.
9. Seriously though, finding out that Prince struggled with an addiction like that. Prince. It floored me. This floors me even though a close family friend died in the exact same way. I've known peers who have died in similar ways. Still. Prince? He was really adept at keeping that secret.
10. And it all leads back to George Michael.
I was gifted a surprise birthday party when I turned 13 or 14 (I can't really remember but it was junior high-8th grade) and one of the boys I grew up with gave me Wham's "Make It Big". I even remember him saying, "I love this album so I'm giving it to you." Seriously. He said that. He later was admitted into rehab in 9th grade, but he was a wise soul. Writing this reminded me of his name, but I won't share it. I never had a crush on him (too blonde and too drug addled, but he was always that person who seemed to know more than you at every age), and he eventually played bass in a band with one of my best friends. I'm sure he has no memory of buying Wham's "Make It Big", saying that to me at my birthday party, or even being at my birthday party. I remember though. It was seminal.
I played that album within an inch of its life. I learned every lyric. I danced by myself to that album. I fell in passionate innocent love with that album. I fell in love with Andrew and George and all those glorious, happy music videos and the neon clothes and the shirts. Remember the shirts? REMEMBER???
I wanted one of those tees more than life. I am crying over this photo by the way.
I am positive this is some sort of facing-my-own-mortality-grieving-for-my-loss-of-innocence thing, but I have been rocked by George Michael passing away at 53 years old. It's not right. He should have live long enough to have been re-discovered and respected as the brilliant wordsmith that he was. I challenge you to listen to "Freedom '93" and not acknowledge the honesty and courage those lyrics are. I still listen to "Freedom '93" on a weekly basis. It never gets deleted off my main playlist.
I don't care if he had a secret heroin addiction. I only care that he felt loved and accepted at the end. He was a brave man who changed my life for the better in 1983. Hell, I listen to "Make It Big" at least twice a year and sing every lyric and dance by myself like a 13-year-old.
That is a legacy to be proud of.
P.S. I did eventually get a t-shirt, but mine said, "Feed The World" (my other obsession in life is Band-Aid), and had Snoopy and/or Woodstock on it. I think we got it Nordstorm. There's, at least, one photo of me somewhere wearing it. I relish that photo.
