cut to the feeling

I saw Carly Rae Jepsen this weekend and it was an amazing experience. I love her so much because she really represents unabashed joy and clear positive energy that she just shares with people and that feels really special. One thing I noticed last night was that I never stopped dancing. There was only one song I didn’t know all the words to and I still kept moving, I still felt it. Even better, I wasn’t drunk—I’d had maybe a half a glass of wine—so it was just pure happiness. It was truly the best concert I’ve been to in years. 

I’m always thinking about how good it feels to express joy or excitement about things that you enjoy, even though aloofness is always the order of the day. Last year, eagerness was really important to me, especially when I went to New York for the first time and had the opportunity to meet people that I admired. On one hand I wanted to pretend that i was cool and disinterested but at the end of the day, I’m a fangirl at heart. Eagerness is my factory setting. And a lot of the time, people don’t know what to do with eagerness because it’s not what they’re used to receiving. And it can feel embarrassing at times to feel really excited about anything because it feels naive. You’re excited to be at this event that is a celebration of the thing you love? Yuck. Even I, when faced with other people’s eagerness, can feel uncomfortable. But it’s still something I respect and I think other people do too. There is a lot to be serious about in the world, and it’s really easy to be morose and jaded. Especially if you’re paying attention. In the face of approaching climate apocalypse, institutionalized and mass hatred, and the way every day feels like gripping on to the edge with the tips of your fingers, joy and excitement feel impossible. But we need those moments, we need to cling to those things that make us grin stupidly and uncontrollably. We need Carly Rae Jepsen.

consumption report 

Movies are too long. We should make more miniseries instead.

I’ve been watching Succession. It’s definitely a slow burn, filled with tense, anxious scenes that I always hope, for the sake of the characters, are merely dreams. They’re not. Each character’s worst nightmare is always a potential reality, and it’s that darkness, the failure of happy moments to last even more than a minute that make each episode so good to watch.

I thought Second Act would be teeth-achingly corny and terrible to watch. It was. And I loved it.

The essay everyone is emailing to their friends.