Hope and Change

Right now it’s mid-afternoon on Wednesday and I’m sitting in a coffee shop on the Upper East Side. I have a steaming mug of peppermint tea in front of me and I’m snugly secure in a sweater I “borrowed” from my boyfriend this morning; the sweater smells like him and it makes me feel safe, like he always does, like he did this morning when we woke up and read the news, and he held me in his arms and stroked my hair while I cried. I’m choking back tears now as these words pour out. I’ve been, on some level, choking back tears all day.

So many things have changed since my last words here. I never intended to take such a break from blogging, and there were days I would open up a new draft and think “this is it,” only to get distracted by another errand, another odd job, another meeting, another everything. I thought that leaving the 9-5 world would free up time for me but instead things have stayed just as busy, only this time I’m running around the city rather than sitting behind a desk. I’ve literally never been happier in my life choices, if scared and a little more than intimidated. This busyness in my life feels like early spring, where I’m planting all of these seeds that I hope to grow in the next year and beyond. I don’t mind the waiting, you see. I do mind not knowing the end result.

That brings us back to this morning. When I woke up and saw that CNN hadn’t changed the color of the map since I’d gone to bed. When I read texts from E and G and when I spoke to my sister. When it hit me that this is what we’re moving forward with as a country. I would bet you that some of my politics would surprise you, since as the daughter of a a police officer I have a lot of strong feelings on gun rights, states rights and the political elite. But this election stopped being about policy and progress a long time ago. The election atmosphere became toxic, exposing our shortcomings as a young nation and how far we still have to go to consider ourselves a true superpower in the world we currently live in. I thought the key to that was to continue with progress, not set ourselves back 30 years. I still think I am right. More people thought I was wrong.

I have so many more stories to tell here in the coming days, like why I’m no longer at a desk job, and what I’m doing instead, and what it’s like to blow up your whole life for a dream and watch the pieces fall like ashes on a windy day. I have stories about waking up in need of time with your best friends before remembering that most of them don’t live in brunch distance anymore. But I can’t tell those stories. Not yet. Not today. Soon, I promise. But I can’t today.

Today I can’t read the news because it makes me cry, and I can barely look at children on the streets without wanting to apologize for something I tried to prevent, if only through my lone ballot. But today I’m also inspired by everyone around me who feels the same way. The people that voted for the first time, the people that voted from across the world, the people who recognize our shortcomings as a nation after this long and extraordinarily arduous election. The lotus flower only grows in mud, and the sun always rises on the worst of times. Right now we’re in a tumultuous time of uncertainty and also an uncharacteristic level of hope from people who have been walking around today the same way I’ve been. There are good things coming for us out of this awful moment in our young history. I don’t mind the waiting, you see. I do mind the not knowing the end result.

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Eager Eager

It is AUGUST, which means I am BACK. Oh, it’s good to be writing again. A mini-vacation from a self-imposed responsibility to share my poor life decisions with the world was exactly what I needed before diving into yet another busy month in the life of LB.

A break, a break, I need a break. How often do we say those things? The city gets too overwhelming and too crazy, strangers pushing you in the subway: I need a break! Work is emails on meetings on phone calls on meetings, more hours, push harder, do better: I need a break! Life is weddings and parties before the weddings, clean that, decorate that, there are 40 people coming in 2 minutes: I need a break! It killed me to stop writing for a few weeks, but this was the one space in my life at that moment where I could actually, legitimately take a break, and honestly, it helped. I still checked in here, and I had all these great ideas for posts (“How Snapchat selfies saved my sanity on 4-hour client calls”; “Packing – how many feather boas are too many?”; “4 hours of sleep vs. my sister’s bridal shower”), but stepping away helped move everything along this past weekend, and this past weekend was perfect.

This past weekend was the bridal shower and bachelorette bash for Twinster, a Paris-themed fete complete with chocolate Eiffel Towers and wedding-themed drinking games (*at different parties). The weather was perfect, the crowd was perfect, and we had so many laughs that my cheeks still ache, months of nerves eased by obsessive planning on my part and a wonderful group of women. There was no feeling quite like spending 48 hours watching my sister smile and laugh and talk about her big day, which is so rapidly approaching it makes me eager and anxious and excited in a way I’ve never been before.

The weekend also kicked off bridal season for me, with weddings every month for the rest of the year. Speaking candidly, I’ve been so focused on T’s weekend that it only hit me this morning that we’re under a month before my partner-in-crime R and her Scot H make it official, the wedding I’ve been looking forward to since pretty much the day they met. The group has been so busy the past few weeks between weddings and work and other travel that it feels like we’ve barely seen each other since the springtime, so the prospect of a party to celebrate how much we love two of our own while they celebrate how much they love each other is such a delicious event to look forward to.

I’ve noticed lately that things feel like they’re on the verge of something, though I can’t tell you what that something is. Leading into last weekend things felt like they were teetering at the peak of the first drop of a roller coaster; there is anxiety and anticipation and some feeling you can’t describe, as you know things are about to tip and then the wild ride really begins. I can’t put my finger on what I’m feeling in that regard exactly – all I know is that a rush of calm came over me when I got back to my apartment last night, like things have officially been set in motion, and now everything is about to come to light. Where such a feeling might have scared me two years ago, the idea that change is a’coming whether I want it to or not has given me a steady calm, like I’ve never really felt before.

I realize this post has a lot of feelings and not a lot of substance, and a lot of crazy and very little sense, but after leaving the blog alone for two weeks, I think that’s what it needed: a boost from the cranky, whining posts of recent past, where I’m exasperated and exhausted; a new perspective after a few weeks to focus on everything calming down before everything else happens. So here’s to whatever is about to happen! Because I am b-a-c-k baby, and the only thing I can say to this crazy ride that’s getting ready to tip over is to bring. it. on.

Treat Yo’ Self

The other day I was bouncing around funny articles on Buzzfeed, when I saw one titled, “If Donna Meagle Quotes were Motivational Posters.” As a massive Parks and Recreation fan, I scrolled through and laughed at some of my favorite lines repeated over an inspirational sunset background. Most were quotes you’d only know if you watched the show (and if you haven’t, please stop reading this blog and come back when you have), but the one that made me laugh the hardest was the one everyone’s heard: Treat Yo’ Self. The premise of that episode is basically that two characters celebrate Treat Yo’ Self Day every year, and it’s literally a day to spend exorbitant amounts of money on whatever makes you happy: clothes (treat yo’self), jewelry (treat yo’self), massages (treat… you get the idea). I debated hanging that poster on my desk at work, but instead took a screenshot and set it as the background of my phone. The photo doesn’t fit quite right, and it’s admittedly very silly, but every time I go to unlock my phone, that little Treat Yo’ Self makes me smile.

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My actual phone background.

Treating ourselves. What a foreign concept for so many of us! From the little things, like a stopping at Starbucks for a coffee in the mornings, to the big things, like manicure on a Monday, buying a mid-afternoon smoothie for fun, or a cab home after a particularly long day at the office, it feels really good to do something nice for yourself every once in a while. Sometimes for me it’s not stressing about getting another blog post up, and taking some time off writing to fix the other parts of my life; sometimes it’s saying it “screw it” to budgeting responsibly and spending money on something for yoga or for life that makes me happy. It’s really easy to get sucked into the same routine over and over, fixing things for other people, pushing through another day at the office, that we can forget to take a minute to feel good about ourselves and enjoy the life we work so hard to maintain.

It goes so far beyond monetary or tangible things too. Yesterday morning when I woke up, I was so tired. My head was pounding, my muscles ached from moving and assembling furniture with my parents all day on Sunday, and I did a full hour of yoga after they left as well, slower movements, working on backbends and splits instead of inversions, but still strenuous work. I tried to drag myself to the mat to do the core strength workout I’ve been “enjoying” for the past month, but as I went to roll out of bed, I was overwhelmed with the need to continue resting, resting an old injury in my sciatic nerve that was protesting all the work from the day before, and resting the muscles that have been worked really hard lately. I took a look at the time and had a choice: stay in bed for another 20 minutes and listen to my body, or push myself to the mat. There’s always an argument to push your body, especially when it comes to exercise, but I took a look at the phone background, smiled, told myself “TREAT YO’SELF” and promptly fell asleep for a brief, yet blissful and much-needed snooze.

The rest of my 2015 literally revolves around other people’s weddings, and while I’m elated that I get the chance to be so involved in these important days for the most important women in my life, it’s really fucking stressful on a number of levels. There are dates to remember and so many parties to plan, buying dresses and presents and hotels, spending, spending, stressing; and in between all of that there is apparently some kind of law that requires everyone saying things like “My friend Katie’s friend Mark met his wife at a wedding!” and “Don’t worry, this will be you someday!”  Reminding myself on occasion to take a minute for me, turn off my phone for a little while, take a deep breath before once again reminding people that IDGAF if I ever get married because my life rocks, maybe even sit and sulk for five minutes that I’m not going to have a non-wedding related conversation with some of my friends till 2016, has been transformative.

As is the case with many things in my life, now that I’ve had “Treat Yo’self” on the brain, courtesy of the phone background, I’m seeing it everywhere: in a wonderfully generous gift certificate as a thank-you from my partner-in-crime for watching her dog, overheard in conversations on the subway, on t-shirts and on random social media posts. Maybe I’m the only one with the revelation recently that to treat yourself does wonders for body and soul; or maybe now that I’ve mentioned it to you all you’re going to start seeing it everywhere too. If you take nothing else from casual reading of this ridiculous blog, always remember to treat yo’self.

Wring it Out

The past seven days have been trying, to say the very least. Between anticipated Whole30 crankiness, a family member in the hospital, then a nursing/rehab facility, plus the general drama that comes with extended time with my family, as well as a slowly-exploding workload, I haven’t had a ton of downtime for anything. Sunday was the first day I had a few hours to myself, waking up leisurely around 7:30, and spending the morning cleaning and warming up for a yoga class at noon. I knew the instructor, and knew to prepare because his classes are a little intense, but the one on Sunday was beyond what I was expecting – and not just from an asana perspective. Like, we started out by singing a mantra while he played along on a weird instrument? I’m sure it was supposed to be moving and spiritual and all that, and don’t get me wrong, I like some hippie granola with my yoga, but this was a little out there, even for me. My thoughts were racing through the whole song: this is dumb, my arms are sore (they were lifted the whole time), why won’t the hungover Australians behind me stop talking, until we started the actual sequences for the class, and all thoughts shut down so I could focus on breathing and praying I would make it through. The class was IN-TENSE – twists on twists on lunges, balancing one two limbs, one limb, planks to handstand prep to planks to backbends. When we made it to the final rest, I could feel my whole body sigh with relief at a few moments to reflect and steady my breath. As I lay there, listening to my slowing heartbeat and counting, four beats inhale, four beats exhale, I could feel all the negativity float out of my body back into the funny limbo where that energy stays,

Something people don’t think about in yoga is that the movements go way beyond… well, the movements. The poses, sequences, flows are all wonderful for toning the body and all, but each movement also has a very specific intention that helps you physically and mentally: negative emotions are stored in the hips, twists detoxify everything, standing postures keep you balanced, i could go on. I’d been focusing on more strength postures in daily practice the past week, still tirelessly working towards a free-standing forearm stand, but in that class on Sunday, my first one since before all the Easter mayhem, the instructor had us focusing on twists: seated, standing, balanced, on our backs, on our stomachs. We twisted in Chair Pose, we twisted in Cow Face, we twisted in headstands and everyone twisted in lunges, massaging the internal organs and sweating profusely as we worked through some emotional and physical build-up in the body. “Wring it out!” the instructor kept telling us, as we went left on the inhale, right on the exhale. “Wring out the negativity and the bad thoughts. Don’t focus on when this will be over. Focus on what’s happening to you right now – the burning, the twisting, the squeezing of toxins out of your body and mind.”

Yoga has this way of getting into my head and helping me realize other moments in life where I may be holding on to needless bad energy. The past week, it’s been difficult to focus on anything with everything happening around me, and it was enough just to try and keep all the Whole30 planning, family time, and work tasks straight. Everything combined meant I was holding on to a lot of crappy emotions, and it started coming out in nasty ways: snapping at my mother after a long day in the nursing center, yelling at the cat for trying to snuggle with me by kneading her claws into my neck, and finally beating myself up over not being “far enough along” in yoga practice, as though there’s a magical endpoint where I should be right now. Much as I can take deep breaths and apologize to the people on the receiving end of my snippy remarks, yoga isn’t so forgiving. If I’m angry, or annoyed, or frustrated, and I focus on that anger and frustration instead of the positive progress I’ve made, I won’t get into things that usually come easily to me, and I won’t move forward, a lesson I’ve carried into many aspects of my life.

I’ve been beating myself up quite a lot lately that I haven’t had as much time to write as I’d like. And even now, this post has taken me four days to put together, and I’m throwing the end of this together in a rare five minutes of peace before back-to-back meetings till five. I can also go into how I’ll probably beat myself up about taking the time to write this now, instead of handling one of the many, many outstanding tasks that need to get done this week, both professionally and personally. But I’m doing my best to stay on the positive side of things for now. I’ll get back to blogging like normal; I’ll get to the level I want to be in yoga. I’ll get to a place where it doesn’t feel like I’m drowning every time I open my eyes, and hey, there’s only two more weeks till I can drink wine again. Everything will happen, and things will feel better. And until that all comes into place, I’ll be twisting left and right and sideways, staying on the right side of a positive energy and wringing out what is keeping me back.

My Life, as told by Google

One of my favorite things to respond when someone asks me a question is “let’s ask the Google.” Can’t remember the first day of spring? Ask the Google. What day of the week does the fourth of July fall this year? Ask the Google. Want to know exactly what red lip color T. Swift wears so you can potentially buy it? Ask the Google! (Just kidding, I didn’t do that)…(Twinster found out for me and we found it in Boston ps it’s AMAZING). I feel like my Google search history says a lot about what’s going on in my day-to-day life, from the silly searches on celebrity dirty laundry, to more serious things, like looking into potential causes for a random migraine before naturally leaping to the conclusion that I’m dying (thanks WebMD). In the busy past few weeks of my life, I’ve asked a lot of the Google, a byproduct of spending a lot of time on my own trying to fill hours in between working.

So as a snapshot of why it’s been hard to write for the past few weeks, here is a sample of my recent Google history:

  • Bone broth helps hangover
  • Chicken bone broth recipe
  • Chicken bone broth slow cooker recipe
  • Slow cooker won’t turn on Cuisinart
  • Chicken bone broth no slow cooker
  • Best Thai delivery Upper East Side NYC
  • Sore neck
  • Sore neck from car travel
  • Sore neck yoga stretch
  • Can yoga cause a sore neck
  • Yoga headstand causes sore neck
  • Fixing sore neck from yoga
  • How long after slight neck sprain until yoga headstand
  • Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt binge watch Netflix
  • Working more than 50 hours per week
  • Health implications sitting in a desk chair all week
  • Sitting in desk chair more tired than standing when working
  • Coffee health benefits
  • Annual cost Starbucks coffee daily
  • Am I really spending that much on coffee
  • Coffee alternatives at home no money
  • Craving chocolate alternative snacks
  • Craving chocolate eat almonds
  • Health benefits almonds
  • How many almond are too many
  • What happens when you eat too many almonds
  • Is Easter chocolate in stores
  • Single life in 20s New York City
  • Best things to do in New York City alone
  • Single life New York City NOT “finding a date”
  • Staying home alone with cat
  • How can I get my cat to use scratching post
  • Why does my cat hate me
  • Cat is acting crazy how to calm down
  • Wine delivery Washington Heights

So in conclusion, apparently my life revolves around coffee and food. I’m totally okay with that. Happy Weekend, kids!

Quick Thoughts: I’m trying!

“Okay, you have your laptop open and a few minutes to spare. Just write one post for Monday and then figure out the rest at the end of the week.”
“Ugh! Why didn’t I write that down when it was on my mind? I know it would have been a great post and now I can’t find the words!”
“GOD DAMMIT LB you have an iPad, two phones and a laptop. Write. Something. Down.”

These are a sample of conversations I’ve had with myself in the past two weeks. I hate that things have been so quiet here, but it’s just been a hell of a month for me, between work, travel and more. I’m trying to hard to keep up with writing, I PROMISE, but we’re entering two weeks of hell at work before two projects come to a close at the same time, so please bear with me this month while I work as hard as I can to get back on track. I have a lot of fun updates that I’m putting together piecemeal in the next few days, but it’s likely this will be another quiet week on the blog. I swear to everyone and grilled cheesus that I’m doing everything I can to get back on track, because I miss the Chronicle as much as I’m sure you all do too.

So to reiterate, stay tuned in March while I continue working through my schedule to find time and inspiration for blogging, and just know I’ll be back as soon as I can! A good way to keep up is to follow me on Twitter (@LBthe20whatev) and Instagram (@lbdoesyoga), since 140 characters is a lot more manageable when you only have three minutes to spare.

xoxo!
LB

Chronicle Q&A

Thank you to everyone that texted, emailed and otherwise asked questions after my adorably written plea for material. Since I said all of the sappy stuff yesterday on the real anniversary, let’s just get straight to the inquisition! From my heart and my keyboard to your screen, I hope you enjoy the behind-the-scenes look at my Chronicle of a 20-whatever,

Q: What made you decide to start a blog?
A: This is a difficult question to answer, because honestly I’ve always had some form of a blog. I had a Livejournal in high school (it was 2004, everyone did it), a blogger site in the early city years, even another public blog for about 6 months in 2013. I also have a personal journal I’ve been writing in since 2008. I’ve always felt compelled to write; writing calms me down and makes me feel like I understand what’s going on around me, even though that’s almost definitely never true.

What made me decide to start this blog was realizing that I was getting myself into all of these hilarious and absurd situations, and going through all of these growing pains and all of this emotional turmoil, simply trying to navigate the city as a mid-20s single person. For a really long time it felt like a terrible and shameful thing that I didn’t know what the hell I was doing, but then I noticed I was having a freaking BLAST at life and I didn’t care that I was bad at it. Apparently sucking at life is a part of your 20s, so why not share my struggles with people going through the same thing?

My goals have always been to overshare as much as possible while still knowing that family and coworkers read this; and to put out posts that are relatable to anyone, whether you’re single in your 20s, married in your 30s, or my grandmother, who’s almost 90 but still tells me all the time how much she loves the blog. Even though tbh she can’t work a computer and has probably never seen this before (If I’m wrong, hi Meems!).

Q: How do your friends feel about being included in your stories?
A: Great question. They hate it.

Just kidding! I think. I hope? In all seriousness, no one has complained, to me at least. Do they love being included in my Friendly Conversations round-ups or my expert recapping of our Epic Sunday Funday PLDs? Probably not. But they all read and love the stories, with a high-five and a shout-out to R, H and C, who are unquestionably my biggest fans and the instigators and/or bystanders for most of my best material.

That said, my goal in writing all this is to make sure things stay focused on me, because at the end of the day, it’s not a blog about anyone else. I’m not speculating on my friend’s relationships or how they feel when I show up late somewhere (again) or forget plans (again) or embarrass them in public (again). With that distinction, I think if you look at the blog from a big picture perspective, all of my stories that involve friends are meant to celebrate the role the Nickname Posse plays in my life. They’re the tough love-givers, the ones who pop a dream bubble that they can see turning into a nightmare, the ones that hold my hair back when I’m throwing up in the street (I mean what? that never happened) and the ones who hold me back when I’m about to do something I’ll regret. They’re the most important people in my life, and my Chronicle doesn’t exist without them.

So do they love it all the time? Probably not, but at least on their side, the good far outweighs the embarrassing.

Q: What are the best and worst parts about having a blog?
A: Honestly, the worst part about having a blog is, in fact, having a blog. I very naively did not think ahead and realize how much writing and moderating would penetrate my daily life. When I first started putting the site together, I was at a job which didn’t keep me too busy, plus I hadn’t settled into single life, plus I thought I had a lot to say. So the first few weeks, I wrote a lot of content in between tasks at work, and assumed it would always be that easy. Pro tip: THAT IS FALSE. Keeping up with the blog, in terms of inspiration for posts, writing said posts in a coherent way, and then editing them to be blog-ready, is really freaking hard. I’m more than a little surprised I’ve been able to keep it up for this long, given my track record.

Having said that, the best part about having a blog is having a blog. I love having a place to share all my opinions and musings and tales from weekend PLDs. I love writing and having people respond. I love hearing from people who really connect with something I’ve put out there, especially when I’ve wrestled with whether to share that information. I love friends referencing the blog in daily conversations and I love that they support this crazy space no matter what. I hope I can keep it up in the years to come.

Q: You seem to have some really pointed references in some of the posts. Are those meant for particular people? 
A: I can’t pull out any examples here without outing people, so I have to dance around this a little bit. I won’t admit to posting content specifically for a person, but I will say this much: every word on this blog is deliberate. If you read something and think, “Hm, that’s oddly specific. I wonder if it’s meant for someone…” the answer is probably yes.

Q: Can you reveal any of the cryptic hints/secrets from posts in the past?
A: Fair follow-up. I try not to be cryptic when it comes to things that affect me directly, and only me, but if I’m referencing someone else who (a): hasn’t consented to the story being public, or (b): may not read the blog and know what’s up there, I try not to divulge too much. I can’t go into big secrets, like identities or anything, but I’ll divulge a few fun tidbits:

  • Here’s what really happened on the Weirdest Day Ever: My ex-boyfriend (the big one) requested to follow me on Instagram, a high school boyfriend sent me something on Facebook, my college boyfriend was apparently creeping on my LinkedIn profile, the guy that I’d recently met and really liked (despite his inconveniently living across the pond) sent me a text after a few days of silence, and then I heard from The Child for the first time since everything between us went down. That shit was seriously cray.
  • The infamous Dating Confessions and booty-call posts are in reference to the same person BUT he wasn’t involved in the weird day above.
  • The Crush and Rebound posts are also inspired by the same person, but he isn’t ANY of the guys above. (Though Confessions has a cameo in Rebound).
  • In the PLD Montage: Austin edition, I will admit that the “beard burn” quote was mine.
  • And just for fun: the commenter labeled “Dave” on the Sister Wives post is actually N. Which I knew, clearly. We also went out later that night for his birthday and he spilled the beans twice that it was him. Oh, hubs.

Q: Are the initials for the Nickname Posse their actual initials? Also, are yours really LB?
A: This is a surprisingly hard question to answer. Everyone’s initials are connected to their name, but that doesn’t mean everyone’s initials are their first name, or even last name. You’d be surprised how many friends I have with names that start with “M.”

But yes, my real initials are LB. LEB, in full.

One Year!!

I remember exactly where I was on this day last year. I was at my then-desk, trying to fill the slow hours of one of my final days in that company before starting at the place I’ll be leaving for good in two days. I was still reeling from one of the most ridiculous weekends I’d had with my as-then-single partner-in-crime R, and secretly texting the Banker, the first crush I’d had since my as-then-still recent big break-up. I looked the final draft that I’d been working on for the entire day for the hundredth time, took a deep breath, and pushed “Publish” without looking at the screen, like I couldn’t believe I’d just took the first step in starting a blog that I’d unofficially decided would focus on all the dumb things I do in my daily life. I let out that deep breath and took a minute to sit and stare at the screen, hoping that I’d have enough to talk about to keep a blog, and praying to whatever god was listening that I knew what I was getting myself into.

I never could have expected how much would happen in 2014: engagements, weddings, a new relationship, another break-up and the slow integration of yoga into my life. When I hit that button on the first entry last year, I thought if I could keep the blog going for six months, I’d be proud of myself; then it was nine months, and now here we are, one year and 133 entries later. In a year I’ve talked about booty calls and sexting, about my love for Taylor Swift and what to do when you accidentally step in sidewalk pee. I’ve shared pictures without my face and almost flashed a boob trying to show off the tattoo I’d dreamed of getting for years. I’ve hinted at the beginnings of new crushes and first dates, and I’ve not-so-subtly hinted when things ended, sometimes easily and sometimes not so much. I’ve blogged through hangovers, Spartan Race- and/or yoga-related injuries, deep depression and the peak of happiness, and I’ve shared snippets of my daily life and daily conversations that made me smile, hoping it does the same for everyone who reads them.

For 2015, I’m faced with: a new job, bridesmaid/maid-of-honor duties, exponentially more engagements and maybe a date here and there. I’m sure there will be more terrible decisions, ones that make me sad and others that make me laugh. I think on some level, I started this blog because I thought it would help me make sense of a life that seemed to be changing with every sunrise, maybe bring some order into a chaotic life. Now I can’t wait for the next year to unfold; the uncertainty and the chaos mixed with moments of self-reflection and perhaps a little bit of calm.

I’ve said it recently, but it can never be said enough: I am so, so grateful to anyone reading this right now, whether you’ve been following me for five days or five months, whether you’ve watched the story from day one or whether you’re only here because Google fucked up and you were trying to find actual advice about living life as a 20-whatever. If the latter, though – the best advice I can give you is none of us know what we’re doing, so sit back and enjoy the ride.

I look forward to sharing the next year with every single one of you.

Much love,
LB

A letter and a request

Dear readers,

Two weeks from tomorrow will be the official one-year celebration of the Chronicle. WUT. I know. Pause for incredulity that it’s been that long, it’s only been that long and that I haven’t given up on writing about (/making) drunk mistakes. It’s crazy to go back and see how things in my life have evolved and continue evolving, and I am so grateful to everyone who reads, whether you’ve been following since the beginning or you stumbled upon this today.

In honor of 365 days of PLDs, I want to give you guys a chance to have a voice on here. So if you’ve ever had a burning question for me, here’s your chance to ask! Leave a comment here, send me an email (LBth20whatev@gmail.com), tweet at me (@LBthe20whatev), send a carrier pigeon up to Washington Heights and hope for the best, whatever works. I’ll post the final Q&A during week of the anniversary and will do my best to answer every single one.

There’s a big post coming up later this week, so don’t forget to check back when you can. And thank you all again – truly, watching this place grow in 12 months has been one of the highlights of a very long year.

xo,
LB