a poppier than planned playlist
(with gratitude for you, and synthetic hormones)
My People.
Femme Bonds XIX is here, my annual end-of-year playlist, and it is much poppier than planned. Blame the hormones? I went back on the birth control pill in September to treat my premenstrual dysphoric disorder (PMDD) and my mood has been marvelously steady—equanimous, even, as the meditation folks might say—since then.
Other updates from the year, in no particular order:
My hair is now long enough, beefy enough, to be held up by a modest claw clip. Which delights and surprises me to no end. The surprise is, I think, the delight.
Our nineteen-year-old is moving back in with us after some time apart. I am decidedly not European about these things. Yet there’s sweetness in the scaffolding.
Some days I still google, "Can pinworms just live in your stomach forever?" Asking for a friend, cough, who caught them from a child during COVID.
Our seventeen-year-old is applying for colleges and sometimes getting in to them and sometimes not getting in to them, and I am rubbing my idle hands, waiting for her eventual happiness—and mine—to reveal itself.
I joined a yoga studio, kickball team, and the “Unfucked Book Club” this year whereby four friends slayed some self-help books. A+ choices all around really.
Our fifteen-year-old had her quinceañera, the last of the bunch. It was lovely and laborious, and I hope she one day laughs at the irony of her white, minimalist parents trying to pull it off with a $500 budget.
I pursued and received an Autism diagnosis. It's hugely relaxing to have a name for (part of) who I am. Autistic literally means "in your own world." Yes, quite.
My husband Rush remains a good guy who wants to make friends but doesn't like making plans. I feel him. And thus feel it a great honor that we are still friends, even if we became friends when we had more energy.
Thanks for being on the other end of this year-end update, whether you ever listen to the playlist or not. I don’t take for granted your readership to this newsletter which is, I know, ever a bit uneven; synthetic hormones can only smooth so much. But, as always, if you do enjoy the poppiest of tracks tonight or in the days ahead, please share your favorites.
Because you are some of my favorites.
XO,
Erin
P.S. Curious about the origins of the playlist? This post from last year explains some.
P.P.S. Stay tuned for more on the adult/lady/parent autism diagnosis. After all, the psychologist told me, autistic adults often take an intense interest in autism itself!
P.P.P.S. Happy New Year. Dance to something tonight, anything for me, will you?
Thank you, Erin, for another enjoyable post.
May you experience abundant equanimity in 2025.