What's the number one thing we learned this year? Cancel culture doesn't exist. So enjoy my favorite Jay-Z and Beyoncé mashup from their 2014 On The Run tour. Let this play while we watch the video montage of all our 2024 blog posts. I know I chose "Halo" on Day 6, and Galia chose "Young Forever" on Day 48, so hopefully Joe lets this slide. If not, you'll be enjoying "Forever Young" by Alphaville.
As mentioned by my brothers in blogging, PoYB was my life raft this year. Venturing into motherhood is one of the most uprooting events that I've even been through. Holding onto shreds of my former self and charting the path to the new person I am becoming. Thank you for allowing me to be unhinged, honest, weird, silly, annoyed, angry, sad, happy, and every emotion in between. When I started this challenge, I had a four-month-old blob of a baby and a lot of postpartum anxiety. I couldn't get myself to leave the house. Over the past twelve months, I've conquered parenting challenges, the stark changes to your marriage when you invite a roommate who is wholly dependent on you, restarting my career, keeping friendships alive, commuting to work, managing grandparents, and even more! I now have a sixteen-month-old toddler, and every day she gets cooler. My anxiety is better, and when I look in the mirror, I can see a little more of myself. There is still a long road ahead of me, but things are so much brighter than they were a year ago.
For all intents and purposes, PoYB YSC was my safe space. A term I really cannot stand in a world of over-therapized speak, but it's true. Not a surprise, though, because the people here are what make coming back worth it. People who three times a week, on time or not *cough cough D*** Sisters*, take time out of their life to share something important with us. Share a song they love, a family memory, a dating story, a self important ranking of some sort, general grievances. You name it, it was written. It's not easy to be vulnerable, but it is easier when there is an open space and a supportive comment section waiting for you. So, thank you all for that!
If you had told me prior to this challenge that I would have willingly written over 43,000 words for Joe's blog, I would have laughed at you. I would have thought that could never be me because I'm "not a writer," and that no one would care what I have to say. Thank you for proving me wrong, and thank you for reading most of the words I wrote, even if you just popped in from time to time. Thanks for making me feel seen during a time when I have felt invisible even to myself. And congratulations to all of us who made it all 180 prompts! We did it!
Fear not, this is no goodbye. I'll continue to overshare via this blog in 2025. I still need a place that is only mine, so this will continue to be it.
I can't do what Nate did. But Nate did inspire me to share my thoughts on what each of you have given me over the course of the year. It's more than you probably realize.
I'm doing this without taking lots of time to look back at everyone's individual posts, so it's off the top of my head. Here we go:
Allison: Allison is the master of the concise post that felt like it dumped a bucket of cold water on my head. She is a brilliant writer. I have watched, in real time, someone's brain work in an entirely different way from mine when reading her posts, and it's inspired me. I'm also inspired by Allison's career change just a few years ago, when she took a chance on herself and now makes more than she used to. Yes, it's nice to make more money, but it's really nice to take the leap and see it pay off. It's something I'm steeling myself to do soon, but I haven't gotten the courage yet. If I do, you can bet I'll be thinking about Allison along the way.
Brianna: Reading Brianna this year was like drinking a warm cup of tea with a purring cat sitting next to me. I always felt soothed reading Brianna's posts, which is a real accomplishment when you're talking about the filth of camping out at music festivals. Brianna has a real talent for writing in a way that has warming and calming rays of light shining through. It's honestly hard to explain in a way, but I always knew I could settle into her posts. I also loved some of the teacher talk and I can just tell she's good at teaching but is really humble about it too.
Bridget: Bridget was another master of the short post, and brought an enthusiasm to YSC that lifted me up and threw me for a loop. Every time I read a Bridget post, I felt like dancing, regardless of whether it was a song to dance to or not. To know Bridget is to know someone who takes everything she can out of life and enjoys the hell out of it. To know Bridget is to know someone who stands in awe of human life, who brings it into the world and enjoys most seconds of it, but not all seconds of it, because sometimes she'd rather be listening to a "bop."
Gilson: Gilson is a writer who takes on big subjects with a deft tone and a sensitive and smart touch. I was in awe of the way he was able to devastate me within just a few lines. I went to the depths learning about addiction from him, and I felt a brother-esque bond with him in being a fellow someone who swings for the fences. Gilson consistently stayed true to himself musically and personally and pumped out strong musical choice after strong musical choice. I always knew I could count on Gilson for a steady hand and the emotional knockout punch I needed that day.
Joe: What can I say about Joe? YSC gifted me a new Internet Friend this year. At the end of 2024, I can safely say that even though our in-person meetings have been limited, Joe is a Friend, beyond just the level of Internet Friend. A supportive and encouraging and open-minded human who manages to maintain an astronomical level of commitment and dedication to the things he cares about—his family, his friends, the blog, musical appreciation, hating Billy Joel and other hacks. Joe tries to get the best out of everyone, and for that I am very grateful.
Maeve: I felt like I was on the best carnival ride ever when I read Maeve’s posts. There is no one who can match Maeve in embracing who she is and doing it in a way I've never seen anyone else do it. I loved all the things Maeve wrote about, and I stood in amazement as she talked about what a boss she was at her job (told in the most humble of ways). Maeve's dedication to this project was clear even when that presented its challenges, and I felt right there with her, cheering her on, because she deserves it. I will very much miss reading Maeve's posts; she takes a simple gray day and adds endless color to it.
Nate: One only needs to look at Nate's "Year in X" recent posts to realize we are working with a man of commitment, incredible dedication to the people he cares about, and, above all, a truly amazing writer. I stand here in pure awe of Nate's writing voice. The effortless way that he manages to write something a little different every time, to mix it up and still keep giving the people what they want. There were also a few times during this year that Nate's hand seemed to reach through my computer screen and touch my beating heart in ways I never expected. He is a syrup-hearted man who plays a curmudgeon on TV.
Sara: I felt so supported by Sara this entire year. I always knew it was going to be good when Sara commented on my posts. She made me feel good about my dating choices, about my writing about Maryland, and about my life (her comment about "why is every detail about you so funny" was one that will propel me to lean into my life and, yes, write that memoir). I knew beyond a doubt that Sara cared, and that was awesome. But enough about me—Sara's posts were consistently simultaneously off-the-wall and sensitive and grounded and I couldn't get enough of them.
Sunny: I viewed Sunny as the sage observer of this blog throughout this year. He is the one who could take any subject, anything that anyone else wrote about or anything he wrote about, and effortlessly turn it into gold. You never knew what form that gold would take. It was like taking part in the actual Gold Rush—you had to search around a bit before finding redemption—but that redemption found you, and it was a wild and awesome trip. I also really felt loved by Sunny this year—this managed to shine through in his comments, which often weren't the most direct; this allowed them to be infused with unmistakable care.
***
"Videotape" is about someone passing into the next world, but it's unclear what their legacy will be in this world as they're leaving it. They encourage the listener to watch the "videotape" they've left behind. Or something like that. And I feel that energy so hard with what YSC has brought me.
Transitions are not easy. There is something that's ending, something big and grand and something good. I shed a tear for that.
I left my entire soul on the pages of PoYB this year, and all of you who have read the posts are familiar with it. That means I'm familiar with all your souls, and leaving that consistent immersion into the life of other people's souls—people who I really like and care about and, dare I say, love?—is such sweet sorrow. I'll miss this. I'll miss all of you.
With two entries left, and after tending to an entire family with the flu for the past week, I could not find anything that intrigued me for this prompt. A few quick google searches and maybe there was a Queen song I could use for one last eyeroll from Joe. Nothing stuck with me. So, I turned to current events.
President Jimmy Carter died today. When I read the headline I said "finally." No offense, he's just been on hospice for like three years, and the last images of him he has already looks unfit for life. Let's listen to what music was like when he was born, so we can truly grasp how long 100 years is. The most popular song of 1924 is George Gershwin's "Rhapsody in Blue." The shortest version of that song I could find was still over nine minutes long. I won't do that to you, friends, but it is the answer. "It Had to Be You" was number two. Surprisingly, I knew both of the songs, assuming most readers do too. Really wild to think that the top pop song when Jimmy Carter was born was Gershwin, and the number-one song when he died was "All I Want For Christmas is You." Which is kind of funny, because that one has been floating around the last 30 years of his life, and I bet you he liked it.
Total side note on Jimmy Carter here: I recently heard on a podcast about Connie Chung that he was only one of two men who physically came onto her as a reporter. So I guess that settles it. They are all dogs. Woof.
"Sesame Street Presents the '80s: Loose Goose / Colors (There's Like a Million) / Two Heads are Better Than One / Count to Nineteen / Super Grouch / Tuck Elmo In Before Before Bed Oh-Oh / Bake Cookie / Don't Stop Your Reading / Always Gonna Be Your Friend"
Prompt: "A song you regret has not been chosen yet by anyone during either iteration of the Song Challenge, because, damn, you have such a good reason to choose this song"
As one of the most popular Beerito music video plays, I can't believe this song didn't get scooped up earlier. Maybe because only Allison, Joe, Bridget, or Maeve would have picked it. A smaller pool of people I suppose, it just didn't make the cut! I believe I could have easily used this on multiple days consisting of possibly:
Day 11 — Monday, January 22nd — The song you think of when you think about your first crush: weak use, but doable I guess
Day 24 — Thursday, February 22nd — An unrelated song whose title answers the question presented in your last song's title: Answering Erin's "Who's gonna save my soul"
Day 37 — Saturday, March 23rd — A song whose title starts with the first letter of your last name and ends with the last letter of your first name: if only I kept my maiden name
Day 55 — Saturday, May 4th — A good song to play on Cinco de Mayo: well, isn't this really just a made-up American drinking holiday so really you can play anything you want?
Day 86 — Thursday, June 27th — A pro-women anthem: thinking about boys is a great use of free will and being a woman, maybe I'm making up for saying boys aren't allowed to have fun getting ready for parties?
Day 88 — Tuesday, July 2nd — A song about a loser: hehe, I'm not sorry I said that
Day 109 — Saturday, August 3rd — A song with a really memorable video: Maeve! Come on! Big miss here.
Day 141 — Thursday, October 3rd — A song that reminds you of somewhere you traveled: Melon Terrace about 700 times
Days I wish I could have used it:
Day 9 — Thursday, January 18th — A song involving the smoking of one or more cigarettes: why didn't anyone smoke in this video? Could have been ten times more cool.
Day 92 — Monday, July 8th — A song featuring a timpani: still unsure what a timpani is, but I bet Charli knows and it's used on this track
Joe doesn't usually post the video, so if he doesn't feel free to watch it here [Editor's note: it's embedded above], the best part of the song is the video.
Prompt: "A cold or empty or bitter song that represents something that you lost or some feeling that you've been searching for and could never seem to find"
While the lyrics of the song are very touching and meaningful, this short track always feels very distant and empty to me. It brings a part of life that I find myself in, pre-grief. Which sounds silly, but it's just when you get worried or sad in advance of a sad event. Such as your mom passing away. One thing I have never been able to cope with is death. From the time I found out what it meant, it terrified me. I can't get too deep into those thoughts because they can really pull a physical reaction out of it. Extreme nausea, tears, dry heaving, the works. What frustrates me is that I can't get past that. If I can't get to a point of reflection, can I ever find the answer? Probably not. Do I need that answer today? No. But, it makes me feel like there is a part of life that I am weirdly missing out on by ignoring it.
Ignoring the most inevitable part of the living experience does make me dread losing my family and friends. It causes the "pre-grief" to start. Naturally, experiencing the real thing is going to be harder, but the anxiety wrapped brain can create some really fucked-up situations. Like thinking about where I would move if my husband died? How often could I drive home if my dad got sick? How would I keep my friend's honor and memory around for his/her children? Maybe I am just overly anxious but also annoyingly prepared. Curse of the oldest/only daughter at it again. All I'm searching for is a little peace so these intrusive thoughts don't rule my life.
from The Dean Martin and Frank Sinatra Family Christmas Show, 1967
As previously discussed on Day 160, I have a very Christian-centric view of the holidays. So when I think of the holidays, I think of baby Jesus. Every year, I have a thought that I will go to Mass and check in on the Catholics. I never do. I actually just brought it up today after my third beer. We'll see... but likely no. When talking about Christmas, I know there is a lot of "well actually a tree is a pagan blah blah but don't tell the Christians." So, I went to history.com, a source that I would say is about a C but essentially gets you the cliff notes. Turns out, in the 400s, the Catholic church decided to celebrate the birth of christ in December to coincide with the pagan Saturnalia festival. Some of those traditions from the pagans are still seen, like Christmas trees and decorating with light. So yes, enjoy this song. And think about how Jesus is the REASON FOR THE SEASON baby!!
On a side note, I was going to use this version of the song and a Marry, Fuck, Kill thing about Kelly Clarkson, Trisha Yearwood, and Reba. But, I truly think what they did was appalling. Here's my answer as requested: marry Reba, fuck Trisha, kill Kelly. Slightly controversial take, but Kelly Clarkson now with the bad talk show and huge teeth is just not doing it for me, and I know Trisha Yearwood would make be a slammin' breakfast in the morning.
There is one specific song that will always be for Joe K***. It's "Party in the U.S.A." by Miley Cyrus. I can see Joe's face and arms waving back and forth over his head upon the first guitar riff. But, alas, that song was scooped up by Bridget on Day 47. It was a perfect choice for the prompt, but it's leaving me to get more creative on Day 175.
I'm not gonna lie, getting the EiC feels like a heavy weight to carry. Also, knowing this dear man for almost eighteen years adds a lot of complexities. I know I can try something like "Rosalita" by Bruce Springsteen, but he literally just wrote about the Boss, so that feels too on-the-nose. I started to metaphorically thumb through the Format's catalog, but they were not fitting what I was feeling. Next, I googled songs to thank someone. Which, corny, but also I feel a lot of gratitude towards Joe. I feel grateful at how honest and transparent he is. I feel grateful for this space to write for the past year. But that felt too self-aggrandizing. There goes Sly & the Family Stone's "Thank You."
Thinking long and hard about how integral Joe has been in my life, It led me back to Beerito. Countless Thursdays watching movies in Melon Terrace, eating burritos, drinking beers, and watching movies. My brain kept going to Dazed and Confused. A cult classic and fan favorite. We definitely had a theme night around this movie. As I write this now, I can't remember if Joe likes the movie or Pam. Hopefully it's both. Frankly, if it's only Pam, then I'll just use the transitive property at this point.
Continuing to pursue the soundtrack, I also think to myself what Joe would be doing on a Saturday morning. What song would be a good soundtrack to making breakfast, doing dishes, getting the girls ready for the day? So, a seven-minute classic southern rock song it is. Will he hate it? Maybe? Will he likely have a comment that is equal parts snark and genuine, yes. But, that's what makes Joe... Joe. Also, at some point I can only imagine Lynyrd Skynryd has been canceled in some way? So, that shall add a layer to the listening and snarky comment.
In preparation for this prompt, I browsed through our long year together here on PoYB. It's crazy to think we're almost at the end here! About halfway through my skim of all of our weekly choices, I noticed a theme of sorts begin to emerge for your picks: iconic female vocalists (with often a country twang), alongside some cultural milestones mixed in. Beyoncé, Kacey, Lady Gaga... and then some T-Pain. Carole, Sheryl, Lauryn Hill... followed by Frank Sinatra. Katy Perry, KT Tunstall, Shania, and Selena... but what's this? Mozart?? An eclectic taste worthy of much respect, especially once you started adding in the sounds of my emo youth. "Addicted" by Simple Plan has been stuck in my head ever since, by the way.
I was tempted to choose a song from among these many great women and moments of musical history, but what's exciting about a gift you already have another version of? So, instead, I give you something new—Middle Kids. While the band's sound has shifted here and there since this album's release back in 2018, I find myself coming back to it often, and I hope you enjoy it all the same.
May your next year is as filled with good music and writing as this one has been!
I didn't even ask Ryan what song would fit this prompt. I'm sure there might be another, but "Bike Dream" would be in the top three. We met in July 2017 at work. I was 28 and recently hired to what would be the worst place I've ever worked. He was 25 and living with his college girlfriend. By December, I had such a crush on this now 26-year-old (thank god) man. I made a pass at him at our company holiday party. It was egregious, but I had a nasty habit between 23 and 26 of hooking up with a few guys that definitely had girlfriends. So, maybe it would be worth it?
I drunkenly grabbed his hand while we were sitting at the bar of Great American Pub Conshy and said "you know, we'd be perfect together." Rightfully so, he turned me down. Staying faithful to his girlfriend as their relationship slowly destructed. They ended in March. I slowly, not so slowly, inched my way in. Our company had a boondoggle in April in Arizona. I behaved! There were far too many married people having shenanigans on that trip. Too many eyes. But, by Memorial Day weekend 2018, we finally hung out, just the two of us. In trading the aux cord on our 45-minute-to-an-hour mid-distance relationship, "Bike Dream" came up over and over again. It feels like a million years ago, but it also feels like yesterday. I'm glad it was worth embarrassing myself and hitting on this man in December 2017.
More on the corporate marketing agency dystopia front. There's a lot to report on. As stated on Day 159, I am now a commuting loser, three days a week. I've successfully become compliant, thus keeping my job. Huzzah. No holiday layoff for me, although I don't know if everyone was this lucky. The agency I work for is held by a public company based in France. They have different sectors that then splinter off into different agencies. All working towards the same goal of the client service side of marketing. I work in health, it's one of the largest portions of business. I'm sure you'd agree if you watched the 100 commercials during a football game that were likely ones done by us.
So, the health companies in Philly combined all their office space before return to office was mandatory. They have 400 seats for 900 commuters. So, when I commute on my mandatory Monday, there are NO seats. I literally sit at a cafe high top on one screen. I might as well be at a Starbucks. It is so annoying. I leave after two hours. If I am driving, I will be getting paid to drive. We moved into this office in March. Now they are moving us to ANOTHER office. Nine, ten months later we all have to pack it up and learn a new building. It's such a cluster. I can't complain too much about the new spot because we are now on 6th street, and I am closer to better coffee and food options. Plus, closer to the 8th street stop / Center City for meet ups. This is fine.
To top all of this off, our holding company paid Snoop Dogg to deliver our end-of-year video. They paid an undisclosed amount of money for him to work for one hour and film this three minute video. Rumor is it was over a million dollars. Which is so lovely because we didn't get Christmas presents. Our dorky CEO (fresh off of a twelve million dollar resigning bonus) was dancing with Snoop Dogg to close it out. It was the most tone deaf thing I had seen in a long time. Mass RTO layoffs, no Christmas gifts, mandatory RTO, no promotions, no raises, and we have Snoop Dogg telling us that they were the number one advertising holding firm in the world. Then in our end of year town hall they offered us all Snoop Dogg sweatshirts.* As Allison so eloquently put it in her response to my snapchat, "Do you work in actual hell?"
The kicker to all this: Omnicom and IPG, two other huge players in our industry, merged the day after our 30,000 person town hall. They are now slated to be the largest stakeholder in the industry. Just two days after Snoop Dogg told us how we are #1. I hope they hire him as a get-back for their year end 2025.
*Please note, I did get a sweatshirt. I got one because I will take every single penny from this place. If they are paying for it, I am taking it.
OK, OK. I know how this duet came to exist, as a part of The Osbourne Family Christmas Special. But, WHY does this rendition exist? Jessica was only 23 years old, Ozzy 55 (looking miiiiiighty rough for 55, mind you), they would never run in the same circles, they do not sing the same genre of music. In 2003, The Osbournes was one of the most popular shows on MTV, and Newlyweds: Nick & Jessica started earlier in the summer of 2003. This was purely contractual cross promotion. Very common marketing tactic. Especially when a network has rights over your talent. To me, it's feeling like another way a young woman is used in entertainment. But maybe it's a mutually beneficial cameo.
Seeing this through the lens of 2024, it's hard to think that a lot of these crossovers were anything more than the network squeezing every penny out of these people. Reality TV contracts are notoriously low and usually do not include any residuals. Almost an internship, if you will. "If you do this show, it'll be good exposure." Which, for some people, it really can be. Lauren Conrad and Kristin Cavallari from Laguna Beach, still relevant women in some way 20 years later. But for others, they get nothing out of it. Maybe even a ruined reputation! Like Jon and Kate Gosselin from Jon & Kate Plus 8. So, fuck these networks and pay people fairly. And keep Ozzy away from all humans at this point.
Sara has been incredibly generous in sharing her life with us this past year. Her journey from uncertainty to comfort in parenthood was affecting to chart over the course of the year, and getting to share in her grappling with it was a kindness. Some honorable mentions from this milieu include: ranking the years of a baby's life, reflecting on becoming comfortable with parenting and parenthood, and trying to grapple with managing parents who have become grandparents but have not changed who they are.
She has been equally generous with her own upbringing and the struggles her parents went through on behalf of her and her brood: how her father took a chance and it didn't work out, how her SIL is struggling with the creature, how her brother battled cancer at a young age, how her other brother has been lost to her, at least for now, through the common, usual ways that are no less painful to bear, no less confusing to struggle with.
These revelations were gifts, and if one were to give one back in return, it'd look like this: What you feel about parenting and childbirth is right and true, the time moves so fast that it doesn't move at all, what you are feeling is common and puts you into communion with a countless multitude who are just doing their best, and that your best will be enough, that your parents for all their flaws have given you all you need, and you will give the same to yours, or better. That what is happening in your family is confusing and sad, but that life is long and unknowable, and as long as you can save space in your heart, even a small one you keep only for yourself, nothing really has to be over.
But this is not about gifts, this is about what Sara said herself: we come here for magic, we come here to embarrass ourselves. Sara's post of the year is this one, in which she enumerates a collection of small but meaningful ways to be a loser.
Most Deranged Post:
Sara has blessed us with many deranged and mentally imbalanced posts this year, including scorching takes such as:
Sara had located three general trends: Pop country through the ages, ass-centered rap music, and some of the absolute worst musical shit you can imagine. The less said about the third rail, the better, so let's either say her Zach Bryan pick or her Waka Flocka pick. Sara, you selected many fine rap songs this year, you are seen.
One Post to Re-Read:
This take on Brittany Spears, informed by Sara's own experience with birthing, makes a compelling and concise argument for Spears' much-deserved critical cultural re-evaluation in the past several years.
In Conclusion:
We are not friends, but game recognize game. This post about how people talk at your job chilled me to the bone.
The fear here is obvious. While this song is a pinnacle of early aughts music, I fear that future generations will ignore the truth about Chris Brown. The ongoing thoughts and conversations about who and who not to listen to, the art versus the artist. I count Chris Brown as a "do not listen." I don't want him representing 2007, that can go to T-Pain. It's getting really tough out in these internet streets with the Diddy and Jay-Z of it all these days. Frankly, my only thought is try them and lock them up. I cannot stomach the details. A new lower threshold for crimes against humanity after becoming a mom. But, am I wrong here in thinking that literally most of the music we listen to is tainted by some form of exploitation from the industry? It's more of a rhetorical question, we've had these conversations before. Anyway, these younger kids are something else. They'll probably do exactly what I am theorizing.
Prompt: "A song about..... um, I don't know. You tell me. Pick something funny that should have been included in this prompt. 'A song about ____.' Make it a good one."
Sara's Prompt: "A Reba McEntire song that encapsulates the message of Grannies Gone Wild."
Sara has watched "Grannies Gone Wild" at least two times so far in her lifetime. Watch the episode HERE. You can also read every single Grannies Gone Wild entry from the Summer of 2022 HERE.
Taking some liberties here. Today's prompt is "A Reba McEntire song that encapsulates the message of Grannies Gone Wild." Long time lurker, partial Record Club member, and friends to Joe, I know about Grannies Gone Wild. Yet, I've never watched it until tonight. Looking for inspiration in all places, I clicked into the Hulu app on my TC and started the episode. Here we go!
Upon the first few minutes, I do realize I've seen this episode before. I certainly watched all of Reba when it was first out. So, apologies for starting this off with a lie. It's making me want to rewatch the series because when did Van become smarter and sensible? Wasn't he the hunky, oaf of a quarterback that knocked up Cheyanne in season 1? Cheyanne wants to do something that is more meaningful than dentistry, Van is worried about money and where he was in this decision. Van's so fragile he can't even let his (wife? are they married? wait, wasn't there a kid?) search for meaning in her work.
Barbara Jean's subplot of being so annoying that she got kicked out of jury duty is perfect. I'm glad to see five seasons in, she's the same. The ending being either a dream or fast forward of them being old was really weird and unnecessary. It ended the episode in a strange turn of events. Lots of good guest stars who you can point out "they're in everything." Overall, pretty good episode. 7 out of 10!
What do you know about menstrual cycles? Are you committed to learning about them? Normalizing them? Assuming yes because there are a few #GirlDads in YSC. This cycle that averages 28 days is the hormonal changes in a woman's body that prepares it for pregnancy. No matter what age you start your period, the whole point is to release an egg for it to get fertilized. Twelve for me, exactly one month after 9/11. What a start to Q4 2001 for me.
So that means I have had approximately 265 periods in my lifetime. Give or take a skipped one, pregnancy scare, and then actual pregnancy. What have I learned in these 23 years of menstruating? Honestly, not much. I'm pretty horrible at remembering when it's coming, how long I've had a tampon in, and why I'm uncontrollably crying. But, ever since restarting my period post baby and not being on birth control (risky!), I have been trying to track my emotions more. Just to get tuned in. Just to save Ryan from an accidental wrath when I want to do something and I haven't said it out loud and he hasn't read my mind in the right way. Track it for the right reasons!
Bah humbug! My brain is shorting out over what to write. I definitely feel the blogging burnout. Something tells me it's more about the want to be perceived in a certain way through these posts more than anything. Which really, there might not be a better place on the world wide web to be yourself.
The only real traditions we had in our family were around getting a Christmas tree. Not a lot of annual magic or fun created by my parents. I don't think I feel too slighted by it anymore, especially since having a child and now knowing the pressure, time, and money it can take. Only saying "think" here because there certainly were years and years I didn't appreciate the understated way my family does things. Always yearning for something to feel more special than it is. This is the part where I give myself a pep talk to break the cycle and change the feeling for my daughter. So, there. And we'll start next year when she can do things like walk and talk.
HAIM rocks. I think a lot of people on this blog would agree. I'll get ahead of Joe and let you all know that he thinks Este is the most "bangable" sister in the band. Rhetorically, "I don't know where I was" in 2020 when this came out. Literally, I was in a loft apartment in Manayunk. I found this album a month ago. The only song I knew off the album was "Now I'm in It," which was a common play when Ryan and I would drink and play YouTube roulette. Which really isn't a game. It's just two drunk people putting on music videos, like smaller beerito vibes. "Now I'm in It" came on a lot because Ryan loved the video and found one of the sisters, as Joe would say, "bangable." (It's Este.)
I've listened to the album a lot in the past month. I love "Gasoline" and "Summer Girl." Happy accident that I could use one of them for this post. It doesn't seem that we've done HAIM on Record Club, so when Joe eventually gets me to commit to more music writing, I will be throwing Women in Music Part III into the mix.
Song found on Day 1 in Sunny's write-up for "Starting Over" by Reba McEntire
"I Will Buy You a New Life"
Everclear
So Much for the Afterglow, 1997
At the beginning of the year, I had aspirations of keeping an Excel spreadsheet going of all the information compiled throughout Yearlong Song Challenge, all the songs chosen and artist repetitions, all the themes that kept popping up in people's writings, all the extraneous art—the music, the movies, the books—that were mentioned by those bloggers experiencing life outside of the blog. I think I stopped after Day 3. You have to remember that this thing used to pull 20+ posts per day, at the beginning. It was a lot of work, and the Excel spreadsheet was the first to go.
So I don't have a list of every song that was mentioned but never chosen this year. For today's prompt selection, I started from the beginning, and went through the posts in order until I found one. It was by chance that Sunny's was the first to pop up. Then again, a lot of this is by chance—for every day of YSC, I've plugged numbers into a random number set generator, and that's how we decide the order of the blog posts. I have chosen Everclear's mediocre '90s quasi-hit "I Will Buy You a New Life" in a random fashion, but that feels right, because life is random too. Pulling this song from Sunny's blog post was no more or less random than Sunny's decision to write on this blog multiple times a week for almost five years now.
I had no idea what this blog post was going to be when I sat down to write about this stupid Everclear song, but now I know. The last sentence of that previous paragraph has (randomly) set me on the path that I now know I was always fated to travel down today. I'm going now free-write about how fate led each of the other nine current YSC participants to write on this blog today. This is similar to the "how I met each person" bit from Day 31, but each of those moments described therein will now be discussed in the context of the entire story of how we ended up here.
I will also use a random number generator to decide the order in which I will discuss each person's role in the blogging cosmos.
Nate — Nate is spending a lot of time here because writing is in his blood, in his fucking bones, and he has a blog but he recently described it as "nearly defunct," but he can't help himself with the writing, and so here he is. We wouldn't have stayed in touch after college if he and I hadn't met certain friends at separate times, but also had at least somewhat overlapping tastes in music, both of which meant opportunities to socialize. Also, maybe we are similar in the mindset of "I am out of shape and I need to be in better shape and I will continue to make mild efforts to address this," which led to Nate's participation in Beer Runners, which probably helped shore up any natural damage to friendship that might have happened in the post-college years. Oh, and geographical proximity, for a bit, which meant carpooling at the very least. And all of those have separate limbs of fate branching out (e.g. willingness to live in "up-and-coming neighborhoods," etc. etc.), but all collapse on sharing an alma mater, and, yes, Nate eventually dating one of the first friends I met at college, and plus also Mandy, who has a tendency to latch onto older guys with similar tastes (platonically speaking, or not), and I had to be friends with Mandy before that, enough that I would've been brought by her to an older (fatter?!) dude's dorm room pre-Hold Steady. Might not have been friends with Mandy in high school if she hadn't broken up with boyfriend during our senior year (boyfriend who was then a freshman at La Salle and would later become my friend too). All three of us had to make separate decisions to attend a dying institution. Nate had to play football and not know that La Salle's football program was in even worse shape than La Salle as a whole. I had to choose La Salle because it was geographically closer to home (even though I wouldn't have articulated it that way then). My parents had to choose to move ten minutes away from my childhood home in Lawndale instead of, say, 45 minutes, deeper into the suburbs, which may have affected my decision to attend a shit school in North Philly. We don't have to go back this far for everyone, since many of these decision trees will end up back at my decision to attend La Salle.
Maeve — I don't know if I ever asked Maeve why she chose La Salle. That seems like a farther reach, cosmically and geographically speaking, than some idiot from Northeast Philadelphia choosing La Salle. Fill in the blanks on how she got to that decision. She was born to parents who instilled within her a love for theater. That means Maeve is getting involved in theater at college. I had a different path toward that extracurricular but we both ended up at the same place. We also ended up at underage drinking through slightly different paths but that put us on the same side of the theater divide, socially speaking. My underage drinking getting me banned from the dorms means that I didn't have the wherewithal to run for the Masque E-Board position that would've pitted me against Maeve near the beginning of our true friendship (that Maeve would have and obviously did do a better job than I ever would or could have is moot in this case). Maeve chose to live in La Salle Apartments instead of the Townhouses, which means that I was allowed at her apartment, whereas a lot of friends who lived in the Townhouses temporarily faded from my life during that time. Maeve had to be raised in a way that made her kind and welcoming, which then meant that she was cool with this guy crashing on her couch almost every weekend. She had to make the decision to stay in Philadelphia after college (which, I did too, but again, that's not as tall of an ask for me). She needed to keep being VP of Personnel and keep organizing events and hangouts. She needed to be present enough that when I started asking around for people to write on the blog every day for a whole summer, that she'd be on the list of people I asked. And then that experience needed to be meaningful enough that she wanted to do it again the following year. I suppose I needed to be patient enough with tardiness that I'd choose to be friends with Maeve for all this time too.
Gilson — I had heard from Sam—who outright earns the superlative of Most Gossipy Friend, and I love him for that—that there was some issue with my acquaintance Gilson, who I hadn't seen or heard from in a couple years, something with the heart, which was no joke in one's 30s. I don't know if I had also heard from gossipy Sam or maybe inferred from Nate's "nearly defunct" blog (this blog post specifically) that Gilson was sober. Neither of these facts were what led me to ask Gilson to be part of YSC; I was really just basically going through all the names at the top of this blog and trying to think who would be a good fit. Gilson's name was up there because he had written a review for Hookworms, which he only wrote because it coincidentally had some significant meaning for him at the time (and because Gilson, as he has sinceestablished on the blog, has no issue listening to music from so-called "cancelled" artists). I knew from that review that he was a good writer, and so it felt natural to reach out to him. He wouldn't have known that RC was covering Hookworms if (I think) Nate hadn't added him to the original Facebook message (that we used first, in lieu of email, before I quit Facebook, which happened the week that Gilson picked INXS for RC, which was basically the last thing that happened before Gilson disappeared from my life for a few years). This means he needed to befriend Nate, and I forget if that story has been mentioned or summed up on this blog or not. Gilson needed to choose to go to La Salle. Fate put him in the class of '07, which means I didn't go to school with him, which means our friendship would've taken a different shape if we had ever seen each other around campus (similarly, if he had had any type of friendship with my future wife, who is also class of '07). Not for nothing, I think the fact that he is one of like three people in my life who is taller than me makes him memorable, and thus, I remembered him when gathering the YSC squad.
Zach — Zach speculated earlier in the year as to how he got roped into Puke on Your Birthday's email. The answer to that is Sam, who seems to tie more than a few of the dudes of this blog into its orbit. So we could go off on a tangent about our mutual friend Sam, say something about when me and him hung out during that one spring break when he saw a tweet of mine and realized that we were two of the only people around campus left and we got drunk at Hannah's house when she wasn't there and I definitely did not hook up with Hannah's roommate, but that's too far away for a blurb nominally about Zach, who, as I described previously, was in the periphery during a few key Sam and Hannah events, and, though memorable (was there something to do with Hannah's mom at their wedding? is that too personal to bring up, or was that a bit, or what?), was probably not in my life to the extent that I'd be asking Sam about him, or know that he was out of the country or why. If I were to work backward from there, then I'd have to pick up the trail of breadcrumbs from Zach's blog posts this year—the job in journalism, which coincided with similar journalism jobs for friends I've already described, which came after Zach decided not to be a food critic, etc. The confluence of fate occurs at the juncture of one person having the desire to write and the other person having the balls to maintain a space to write on, in 2024, on this internet that is pretty unkind to those types of spaces in general, and yet here we are.
Bridget — Like many paths of fate that end on PoYB, this one runs right through another person. I am fairly confident I would not be friends with Bridget if I wasn't first friends with her sister Maeve. I'm running through alternate scenarios from the multiverse, and I can't find any that would reasonably lead here otherwise. I had friends who went to Scranton, but none who would've run in the same circles, and none her year, and none who I was close enough to that I was leaving my own shitshow college experience to drive two hours and have another one at that school. I did visit Scranton once and I met people and I partied at different house parties, but this is a few years before Bridget got there. And even if I had gone to visit an acquaintance and I had attended a party that Bridget also happened to attend and I had met her in some weird twist, then what are the chances that that interaction would've then led, a decade later, to her writing for this blog? Still not likely. So no, I think the easiest path here was the one we found—she grew up with a strong emotional bond to family, she had reasons to move to Philadelphia that must have included at least partially the fact that her sister was here already, a sister who was still hanging out with friends from college who are all-in-all, despite the GOSSIP, good people, and welcoming, and so it makes sense that the decision to live in Phily would lead to a decision to join this one friend group, that happened to contain a guy who decided to restart the blog he and another friend group had made just around the same time that Bridget was moving into the dorms at Scranton University.
Brianna — This is the one that's gonna diverge the farthest from that Day 31 post, because it's not just a matter of being born to the same parents and living in the same house. If it was, then I'd be writing one of these for middle child Jenny as well, and I'm not, because she doesn't write for this blog, except when I literally sit down next to her and force her to write. So what's the difference here? What sort of fate led one sister to write 180+ blog posts for her brother's blog in one year, and the other to refuse to engage at all on a consistent basis? I don't know, but I suppose the path runs through music and through writing, for both me and for her (but not for Jenny). Both hobbies/skills honed on separate but parallel tracks, outside of the home. Not that our parents necessarily discouraged writing or seeking out music, but it wasn't actively encouraged either. We're four years apart so I don't know what type of feedback Bri was getting from Mom and Dad regarding homework because I wasn't there when it mattered for her, but if it was anything like mine, it was all "good work" and a general appreciation for decent-to-good grades and nothing specific about anything written, no thoughts given to any essays at all really. Which is fine, parents are under no obligation to do anything except keep you alive, and Mr. and Mrs. K. did that and then some, and did so willingly and provided a safe and nurturing environment out of the love of their hearts... but I wouldn't say that anyone was developing a deep love of any sort of vocation like this. So where, and why, and who, and when, I couldn't say for anyone but myself, but I'm filling in the blanks here. Brianna is a teacher, and I can imagine that the way one needs to express themselves as a teacher might be at least in the same ballpark as the way one might need to express themselves during extracurricular blogging sessions. And the music thing is something Brianna is already documenting throughout this current blog project, so I'll let you draw your own conclusions there. But wiping all this way, I'd say that maybe an alternate path that we might consider is the fact that we were raised being told that you are there for family, and maybe Brianna felt like she needed to be there for her brother as he and his friends wrote themselves into insanity (with her getting a taste for the insanity through 2023's yearlong project of Infinite Jest book club).
Sara — I think you could pull details from what I've already written here and get a general sense of what stars aligned to get Sara on here today for one of her thrice-weekly blog posts, but with maybe a couple differences. Consider all of life's events in the suburbs of Baltimore that led her to attend university at the same place and time. Consider the couch that stood empty on most weeknights in the living room that she was renting with Maeve on campus that was suddenly not empty on the weekends due to a tall drunk sweaty elf that was crashing on it. Consider the decision to stay in Philadelphia, and the superhuman effort it takes to maintain friendships with fucking anyone in a post-collegiate world, let alone some asshole with a blog. I would say, however, that, at least during college, Sara's place in my life threatened to be that of a bit player more so than others, perhaps, just simply due to her non-involvement (or unofficial involvement) with the theater program, that being the thing that tied a lot of us together. Maybe I would have only remembered her as the dame over whom Kyle P. and Drew P. came to literal fists at Casbah Caterers on the night SigEp and AXP had their formals the same night but on different floors of the hall, were it not for, ya know, everything else that's happened. And maybe she meets her husband at a different time too, maybe the timeline is thrown off, maybe she has a child earlier, or later, and doesn't feel the need to reconnect with adults in some tangible way, a way that she finds through some song challenge malarky. Who knows, man.
Sunny — If each of these starts with "when did the person start writing every week," then I start the farthest back with Sunny (if there is a difference between "writing most weeks" and "literally writing every week"). It makes sense that Sunny is writing a blog post today for Yearlong Song Challenge because it's been five years and Sunny's written a blog post every week for all that time and so why wouldn't he do YSC. He's also expressed in the past some FOMO for not doing Summer Song Challenge. I assume he didn't want to do Summer Song Challenge because the previous summer's Grannie Gone Wild Challenge burned him out on summer projects. But he was the only one who took on that Reba Challenge because he's the only one here who is willing to at least take a chance on all my worst ideas here at Puke on Your Birthday. I hang out with Sunny in-person maybe six times a year but read his words most days of my life, so there's a bond there, as strong as one could be when it is built over the fragile gossamer wires of the world wide web. He ended up starting Record Club because he had taken part in a Your Favorite Movie interview. He did that because he saw links for previous interviews... on Facebook, probably? Or was this another instance of Sam stick his greasy nose through the cracked doorway of fate? Sunny went to high school with Sam. That's how Sunny ended up on that improv team, the only dude I didn't know previous to seeing them perform. Sunny getting invited to boys' book club and currently standing as the only member who has never missed any of our 24 official meetings (and one unofficial meeting in K Lot). Lots of Sunny's past is still rather mysterious to me, which is okay, though some of it is unspooling on the threads of YSC this year. I would say, however, that the biggest hand of fate that we'd want to know, if we are truly tracing the story here, is what about Sunny's upbringing or life experiences made him into the type of person who just seems to be down to partake in whatever bullshit his friends are doing, whatever seems fun, whatever seems like it's gonna result in the fullest life experience. Not everyone is like that, ya know. Not these days.
Allison — I've thus far tried to figure out why my friends are writing for Yearlong Song Challenge today, what led them to this moment, all the millions of factors that came together in the perfect way to create this, this moment, right now, this blog post, and those alongside it. I don't think the answer for Allison would be too far off from others, in terms of the broad details. La Salle, the Masque, living in Philadelphia, good writer, some drinking mixed in there to act as the mortar for the brick wall of our friend group, and so on. You can mix up some of the details—I've almost never known Allison outside of her relationship with Stephan, and maybe blogging is something you are more prone to do when you "settle down," which in some ways happened for her earlier than others? I don't know. Maybe that's grasping at straws. Also, maybe consider the overlying fact here for everyone that being friends with me is a choice, and maybe that choice looks different for some than it does for others. Like maybe Allison's choice looked different after an unnamed moment in time in which she was angry at me—everyone has had a good reason at some point or another—and so I know through the fact that she still chooses to be in my life means that she's a kind and ultimately forgiving person. Why are you writing for Puke on Your Birthday? A billion fucking reasons for each person. Why are you, one of ten people here, still writing for Yearlong Song Challenge, after eleven months and 165 previous blog posts? I have to imagine there is a reason out there that ties us all together. I think we're all searching for something. That's my theory. I see it in Allison's writings the most, I think, that search. It's fascinating to see because the search looks different when you already have a lot of what you've always wished for. Then it becomes what else. I'm thinking about the blog posts about the gym (apologies to Allison, I seem to be writing more in her blurb than those for others, that's the RANDOM NUMBER GENERATOR for ya, baby!!), going to the Y in the early morning hours. I see the parallel track there, the quest for self-improvement, and the need to document it. I think if you looked at the motivation for what keeps her on that bike, it might look like a similar motivation that keeps the emails coming to my inbox three times a week, right on schedule. That if you keep going you're gonna discover something about yourself that will have made it worth it.
Okay, now for everyone—it would surely be too pat to try to tie in this stupid fucking Everclear song into what I ended up saying here, about how we are all here for a reason. But maybe there's something in it. The lyrics about a guy making the case that he can make your dreams come true if you just stick with him. That's not me, I'm not that guy. Neither is this blog, I don't think. Puke on Your Birthday will not buy you a garden. But maybe it can be the garden, the one in which your flowers bloom. You can't buy a new life, here or anywhere. Instead, every day, just a little at a time, we can work on ourselves, try to make tiny changes, and where better than here, on a sixteen-and-a-half-year-old Blogspot blog.
I didn't think that this was going to be the blog post I wrote today. But here is where my life has led. To this moment. Almost exactly 36 years in the making, plus every decision made by others before that, the stars exploding trillions of years ago in just a way to get us to this minute in time, when we can sit back and listen to a fucking Everclear song and ponder about our place in the universe, and what it means that we are who we are, where we are, and why we are. It gets a little heavy sometimes, to think about it. Everclear does not help.
Song found on Day 162 in Joe's write-up for "The Underdog" by Spoon
"Hey Jealousy"
Gin Blossoms
New Miserable Experience, 1992
Thanks, Joe! Thanks for leaving the map to the answer for this prompt. Hoping all my blogging friends had lovely Thanksgivings. Maybe there is a juicy story or fight between family members we'll get to hear about. The Hs took it easy this year. We were kneecapped by daycare germs this year. One baby with pinkeye and two adults with wretched colds. What's worse than having a sick baby? Being sick and having to take care of the sick baby! In all seriousness, we're surviving. Feels like a weird right of passage to have an entire holiday eliminated by germs. Pandemic excluded.
We were able to watch the parade and eat our favorite thanksgiving sides. Ryan's is green bean casserole, and mine is mashed potatoes. That's enough! Blessed! I have nothing else in my brain. Actually, I have a lot on my mind, but I don't know how to start it, so I've decided to write a LiveJournal entry about my boring holiday. See, the rest of the Holidays are going to look different on my side of the family.
My sister-in-law has unfortunately had some setbacks? Is that the proper way to say we found out that she is a functioning alcoholic? Probably not. But yes, at the end of October, some events transpired that landed her in a mental health facility. After that weeklong stay, she entered rehab. I was able to see her in the mental health facility to offer support. She was in the right place. There's a lot of talk on this corner of the internet about alcohol abuse and recovery, so I did want to post something to see if I can crowdsource some help. What is the best way to support her? Is this a let-her-lead situation? How did holidays look to you after you stopped?
If you share, thank you! Just a new layer to navigate as a family.
