Everything’s still green and spring-y in the Bay Area, and I’ve been living like a vortex. Not in a vortex, not near a vortex, like a vortex. Me and mine are fortunate, so fortunate, but the last few months were still marked by instability, doubt, worry, quarantines and cabin fever, and crying, all the crying. I’m a big believer in crying (criers live forever!), but even I was like, oof…that’s a lot of tears, y’all.
Some of the crying was what you might call ‘positive crying’, or at least ‘kinship crying’, like during the last hour of Everything Everywhere All At Once. (Oh, hey! That reminds me, it’s AAPI month. Hang in there, my gorgeous gorgeous AAPI compatriots! ILU) Mostly, though, it’s been one of those times that opens you up to everything out there. You crack open the door a little and suddenly the world comes whooshing in: all that’s bright, all that’s horrible, and suddenly you’re a cute lil pink Kirby at the shitstorm buffet table of 2022.