Saw a man walking down the street in a mask he had crafted with a Crown Royal bag so I really think America is finally getting it together. Then three seconds later a bee kamikazee-ed his way into my breakfast while a bird took a shit that landed inches away from my elbow. 10 minutes after that I saw a kid shoot up on a park bench in broad daylight and spoiler alert – I don’t think he’s diabetic. 2020 is your schizophrenic friend who’s decided to stop taking her meds cause “she’s fine” and then proceeds to ruin every single hour of your existence…but like…while laughing because she doesn’t understand reality? She thinks we’re having fun. Is anyone having fun? I came home to discover my pool is under construction which would make sense if we weren’t in the middle of a heatwave…over labor day weekend. Dear Management: your timing can eat my whole butt. (I would like to make a footnote that this has nothing to do with my landlord who is a GD angel and a huge fan of emojis and constantly puts a smile on my face.) Who is making these decisions?! Satan? The United States Congress? Whoever invented Crocs? Cool, cool, cool. I’m in a glass case of emotion over here and I’m sure a lot of you are like – boo-hoo your pool is closed, be grateful you have one, blah blah blah – and to you I say – STOP HATING ME CAUSE MY LIFE IS MORE FUN THAN YOURS!
So I did a thing. Maybe the hardest, coolest thing I’ll ever do in my life. It was terrifying and awful and fantastically amazing. 20 miles, over 44,000 steps and 312 floors later, I can officially say I climbed Half Dome. She’s a beast. I compared it to Million Dollar Baby – thrilled for the experience but never again. I still can’t believe it – I’m convinced I got up there on pure adrenaline and the inability to fail. Too many people knew about it – I couldn’t chicken out. The cables…ughhhhh, the cables. Halfway up the cables I started panicking and yelled out loud, “IS THIS A FUCKING JOKE?!” Which I think any rational human would when you’re climbing up what feels like an 80 degree angle and realize one wrong move equals death. It was not a joke, it was V real and my hip flexors can prove it. At one point, my feet couldn’t find traction and my arms were the only thing holding me up and I thought to myself, this is the way I go. Cause let’s be real – I’ve never been known for my arm strength. My swim coach used to joke that we should cut my arms off because they were useless and only created more drag. Absolutely brutal. But alas, she believed she could, so she did. And then she had to go back down the cables…cause why would they be one way? That would be SILLY, Becky. Go to bed.
Let’s discuss bears shall we? So obviously when venturing out into the wilderness you hear stories and whispers of bears. Bear spray, bear bells – it’s a whole thing. Now, what you might not know is you’re supposed to react in two very different ways when it comes to a black bear vs a brown bear. Black bears you’re supposed to make yourself look as big as possible while making a lot of noise. Brown bears you’re basically supposed to play dead, curl into a ball and pray you don’t die. NBD. I learned that there are no brown bears in California. Great. But then I saw a bear in Yosemite (relax, I was in a car) and it was for sure brown. Well here’s a fun fact: black bears can be brown and brown bears can be black. You’re supposed to tell the difference by the hump(s) on their back. Excuse the fuck me? You think that if I run into a bear in the WILD I’m going to have the time to not only register what exact color its fur is, but then count the humps on its back and then conclude what game we’re playing ?? WHO HAS TIME FOR THAT!? And THEN it got me thinking – so the CA flag is a lie? Cause that bear be brown. Or is that a black brown bear??? The bears are messing with us and they are winning. (Apparently CA used to have brown bears, hence the flag, but that doesn’t support my comical narrative, so like any good 21st century journalist, I’m just gonna leave that part out.)
I would also like to discuss toilet paper. It’s been a hot topic in 2020. I have decided people who use/purchase/tolerate shitty TP cannot be trusted. Look, I’m not boujee about much but TP has gotta be good. If you’re not worried about what quality of products are all up in your whoo-has and twilas – what kind of human are you? When people don’t care about other people, I get it – that tracks. But when people aren’t even taking care of themselves it’s beyond concerning. If you’re using the same type of toilet paper I could find in a public restroom in the middle of Detroit, I’m looking at you. Fix it. Love yourself. Love your body parts more. Speaking of love, I have a confession to make. ‘I’m in love and don’t care who knows about it’ she screams from the top of a mountain. This scrunchie is everything I never knew I wanted. I’ve resisted the comeback for quite sometime now but I gotta tell you – BIG FAN. I’m now THAT girl and I’m here for it. I’m being a total geek about it and lord knows I never thought I’d own a scrunchie again, let alone buy one for myself with a smile on my face of my own free will. I surprise myself from time to time people – it keeps me on my toes. Now if you see me in crocs, send the PO-lice and a priest cause something is ASKEW.
Dating during COVID is a real SITCH. It’s basically deciding whether or not to date Wilson from Home Improvement. What exactly am I supposed to gauge about a person by their eyeballs? I can’t even see their teeth! What if it’s a whole battle of epic proportions in there?? I can’t take that gamble and neither should you. Haven’t you ever seen Houseguest with Sinbad? Sidenote, that’s probably the most obscure reference I’ve ever made. Yes, the eyes are the window to your soul, but I’m not looking to peep into anyone’s soul at this point – we’re all exhausted. We’ve been through hell this year. We’re essentially living a reality show of the classic game Operation and the majority of us aren’t doctors. So let’s just pump it on the soulmate search ok? Can we all just agree that dating is a fucking joke this year? Zoom dates?? I’d rather light my hair on fire thread by thread. I only zoom with people I love and even then it’s chaos because somebody always has a TV on in the background and then someone else can’t figure out how their audio works and then somebody else has a whole lighting system that makes them look like a greek goddess and then another person keeps talking over another person and it’s like – some of y’all need to take zoom etiquette classes and get back to me cause 2020 is hard enough.
I recently heard that you can major in wine at Cornell University. WINE. So it’s pretty cool to discover I did my whole life wrong at 37. I could be running around right now with a DEGREE in wine – I mean has anything ever made more sense to anyone in their entire lives? There’s equal rights, term limits and ME HAVING A DEGREE IN WINE. With everything going on in the world around us, I hope you’re finding things that makes sense to you and fill your life with happy. I hope you seek the sparkles hiding in plain sight. I hope I hope you find your mountains to climb and crush them all – whether they’re physical or mental. I hope you know there is nothing you can’t do, unless you think you can’t. I hope you’re dancing to really good music at midnight – even if it’s by yourself. I really hope you’re making the most of 2020 and embracing new normals with open arms. And I really hope you don’t run into a bear. Things can be awful and amazing at the same time. Huzzah. Kodros out. Xx