Sorry for not updating in three weeks, but I was distracted by just how poetic and hypnotic that exploding 2016 GIF truly is... and just how much it sums up my feelings about this past trip around the sun. Because I am not one naturally inclined to write about (and therefore, dwell upon) negativity, I felt it was best to just leave my creative mojo alone and let it rest for a while during this period of grief and despair.
So here I am--finally able to coherently form thoughts and opinions that aren't merely primal, panicked grunts and guttural groans--and I am ready to make a fair assessment of the year that (almost) was 2016. Unfortunately, there's still some of it dribbling over the edge of the toilet bowl, flooding the bathroom floor, but like John Oliver, I'm calling it. There's still time for even more amazing human beings to shuffle off this mortal coil, but let's hope that Fidel Castro's passing is some kind of fitting metaphorical moratorium on significant deaths for this year.
By far, the most significant Con of 2016 was a very personal one. The emotionally torturous process of my divorce was by far the most massive disappointment of my 33 years on this planet. There was a solid five months in there that were consumed by anxiety and depression the likes of which I have never encountered ever before. Long story short, my partner had endured a bout of intractable depression that began in 2015 and ultimately led us to sacrifice our marriage for the sake of our collective sanity. It was the most difficult decision we've ever had to make. He went home to England in July and has since gotten his life back in some semblance of order, and is much healthier and happier today. I am deeply thankful for that. And honestly, I am relieved of the burden of our mutual helplessness. The great tragedy of it is that we never stopped being in love. We never really wanted to be apart, but we had no other choice. Somehow, we emerged from the maddening ordeal still enamored by each other in a way that has made it apparent that we will have some form of unconventional love affair for the foreseeable future.
Still dealing with that Con everyday. At least it has a Pro attached to it.
The next most terrible thing was the entire US election. I was already beaten down by my personal issues, so after the Cubs won the world series--a clear portent for the coming apocalypse--Biff was elected the next president, and I just could not handle it. After a year of steaming bullshit election coverage in the absence of Jon Stewart, with naught but a nearly weeping Stephen Colbert attempting to convey his wisdom, I decided to shut out the world. I spent about a five days after November 8th worrying about re-counts and whether or not I was living in a bubble and reading blogs of sad liberals grasping at all the possible reasons for this unexpected and asinine event, every word of it making my stomach writhe like a bag of snakes... and I had to give up. I stopped checking Buzzfeed, I quit watching the news in the morning before work, I turned off all the DVR timers for The Daily Show, Stephen Colbert, and anything with commercials. I only tuned into TCM, Netflix, Supernatural, and Filmstruck, all of which have been lifesavers for me. One could argue--hell, I would even argue--that this was enveloping myself in an even tighter little bubble, but at least this bubble was minus all outside opinions. I rejected all political voices across the board.
And you know what? I feel pretty good right now. I'm truly enjoying binge-watching The Crown while cross-stitching swear words onto bookmarks. I love reading Arthur C. Clarke short stories and National Geographic while drinking my tea in the morning. I am indulging in all the Vine compilations being posted on Tumblr. I hosted Thanksgiving for my family for the first time ever. I went on a mini road trip with my 84 year-old grandmother and ate the world's best clam chowder. My Orlando besties are planning a two-day awesomefest with me during Christmas Break. I'm going back to NYC in January for a long weekend of even more just-friends-spooning awesomeness. I am emotionally invested in Westworld (one of the best Pros of 2016 by the way).
On top of those two huge disappointments, a handful of tinier, yet still vexing ones were poured into the same jar, filling in the gaps. David Bowie, Anton Yelchin, Gene Wilder, Prince, Muhammad Ali, and Alan Rickman for fuck's sake... all left this earth. One of my favorite podcasts, How to Do Everything, is now over. For three hurl-inducing months this summer, Tom Hiddleston was fucking Taylor Swift. Like, Jesus Christ.
I am absolutely sure that the giant hole the Cards Against Humanity people are digging is specifically for burying 2016 once and for all.
I digress. *wipes eyes and blows nose* I need this bubble. Let me have this one thing.
*Takes deep breath and straightens posture* Ok, some Pros now.
As I said earlier, Westworld happened. It has long been one of my favorite classic sci-fi films (YUL BRYNNER!), and it is obvious how it was the original kernel of an idea for Jurassic Park in Micheal Crichton's genius mind (how about Westworld... with DINOSAURS?!). So when HBO premiered this bitch, I was immediately hooked. It's already reached a level of cerebral stimulus that has eclipsed even Game of Thrones IMHO. It is best.
Doctor Strange was fun. Cumberbatch rocked it, as usual. Even with the American accent, he was HOT AS ALL GET-OUT and Tilda Swinton was beautiful.
Filmstruck is online. *Homer Simpson drooling* This is the best use of my hard-earned $6.99 a month. I've only had it three weeks and I've already watched 8 eye-opening movies. Seriously. As a sometimes freakish film nerd who just NEEDS some anti-mainstream commercial-free quality entertainment a few times a week, I am reveling in the little indie/arthouse/classic collections this streaming service has to offer. It's run by the people at TCM, so you know it's good (and good for you!). I just can't wait for it to deliver its Apple TV app next month so I don't have to solely watch it on my iPad or computer.
John Oliver is my weekly dose of Jon-Stewart-style commentary, and continues to deliver scathing satire in ways that Trevor Noah wishes he could. I love you, Joliver.
There's my dear friend Annie and our mutual squeeing over Ben Whishaw, etc. I can always rely on that in my life.
And mom and dad, who invite me over for some delightful comfort food dinner at least once a week.
My orchids are abundant and beautiful and keep me busy every week.
I had three servings of steak tartare this year.
The songbirds keep coming to my feeder, and I still love to identify newbies with my Audubon field guide.
It hasn't rained in weeks, so the cold nights are good for seeing Venus and Andromeda and those star clusters between Perseus and Cassiopeia.
Talenti gelato. Baked Ziti. Spaghetti Squash.
As Bing Crosby sings, "When I'm worried and cannot sleep, I count my blessings instead of sheep."
I'm done for now. It's Sunday and there's a lot of reading to be done.