Thoughts on childhood favorites, golden birthdays, and the Year of the Party.

I’ve had this all-consuming obsession with old children’s book illustrations lately, going on Pinterest rampages and even creating a personal hoard of thrifted paperbacks. Some honorable mentions include Goodnight Moon, Charlotte’s Web, Chicken Soup With Rice, and Madeline—matter of fact, the delightful, somewhat archaic scribbles of Ludwig Bemelmans are probably what shoved me here.

(Left to Right) Preparing for Dinner, Sketch for 'Madeline in London' (The One Forgotten), ca. 1961, SKETCH FOR MADELINE IN LONDON via artnet

As my early-twenties-fog begins to lift, I find myself suddenly remembering childhood favorites, of all kinds. The house where I spent most of my elementary school days was the very last on our street, and just on the other side of the fence was a giant green belt, surrounded by dirt and sprinkled with mesquite trees. Following a rare rainy day, you’d find my little legs trudging through the mud, playing “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory”—which consisted of a single-person assembly line of precise chocolate bar making. I didn’t go as far as to test the quality of the product, but I imagine they were delectable.

I’m [very] prematurely thinking of my 28th [GOLDEN] birthday. It somehow feels more monumental than the big 3-0. I’m toying with the idea of a Vegas bash, sipping a slushie on the strip, consumed by mushrooms OR a wholesome, streamer-covered, backyard barbecue—there can be no in-between.

I’ve been nonstop listening to the masterpiece that is “Under Pressure,” pumping it through my AirPods on my daily walks or the speakers of my best friend’s Tacoma. It’s the perfect song. No notes. The live version with Queen, Annie Lennox, and David Bowie crushed me beyond compare. RIP Freddie & Bowie. Upon a quick search, Wikipedia tells me it was released on October 27, 1981, the day before my birthday. That feels cosmic to me, somehow, someway. I’ll decipher later. Carry on.

*My girls and I arriving to the function.*

Americans Need To Party More The Atlantic

I saw the TikTok version of the above article (because I’m not willingly getting past a paywall, idc) and it rocked my world. What is to blame! The answers are infinite, I fear. Small living quarters, lack of funds, overly stylized (guilty), anxiety (also guilty), time?

I want to see bounce houses and charcoal grills back in action, baby. CARD TABLES AND PLASTIC CHAIRS. MUSIC VIDEO MARATHONS. BONGS ON FLOORS.

“Where the fuck the function?” Aubrey Drake Graham, 2025

BECOMING GOLDEN

GRID