Spotify wrapped

I'll never admit the number of minutes I've spent listening to Harry Styles

What a year, amirite? I had dinner last week with one of my favorite people. (We went to Dear Jane’s; I recommend.) Over dinner, we remarked on how new this post-Covid era is that we find ourselves in. She lives in NYC and comes to LA for work every so often. Our dinners, as a result, become markers of sorts. Like (incredibly fun) points on a timeline. When she was last here, in February, neither of us had even gotten Covid yet. (We went to Tsubaki in Echo Park, by the way…highly recommend.)

As we were catching up, remembering what life looked like in February, and noting how different it looks now, it was overwhelming to consider all that we’ve adapted to in 2022. Remember when we had to show vaccination cards to go places? Remember trying to commit the ever-changing CDC guidance to memory? Now it’s like ‘eh, should I even get boosted?’ (It's like this!)

And that’s just the ebb and flow of Covid. As Time’s Top 100 Photos of 2022 says, “it was different this time. That was the sentiment humming in the background, and sometimes roaring quite loudly, throughout 2022. It’s what was said when young people started rising up in the streets of Iran in support of women’s rights; when the first Russian tanks rolled into Ukraine…”

I don’t know about you, but as we look back I feel winded. My motivation and exhaustion and weirdness and sliver of hope are all validated; 2022 was like three years combined. Chris Rock got slapped, Roger Federer retired, we all practiced our Anna Delvey accents, we found out just how relevant the war on Roe v. Wade still is, did Harry Styles spit on Chris Pine?!… I mean, I got highlights this year. It’s been A LOT.