One key takeaway from 2021? Never get comfortable. You think things are going one way, and then they stall or go the opposite direction. I’m not alone in feeling frustration, disbelief and a sense of sleepwalking in purgatory that we are facing a new spike in Covid. The optimism of being able to travel and mingle and be unencumbered by masks and general anxiety is suddenly gone once more.
At least a majority of the year felt like it was on the up and up. After the low of January 6th, it was a brilliant spring of not hearing or seeing Trump and watching Covid recede with vaccinations on the rise. Through it all, Parker was fortunate enough to be in school full-time, we started seeing more friends, and Andrew and I were busy with work.
It was a lean year of editorial work as I couldn’t keep up with the demand in the ad world. I turned away more requests than I ever would have thought possible. A good problem to have, but it was also exhausting. After months of juggling multiple projects with multiple agencies, I began to physically cringe when I sat at my computer. At times, I chafed at putting the demands of luxury creams and expensive whiskies before my own desires to be reading more, to be outside in the yard, to be free to make my own schedule. But I also produced some work that I’m really proud of.
I only wrote four articles and did not one lick of development towards a new book. They were fun articles, but I want to do more in 2022. I also had my first experience of being ghosted by an editor – someone I know, no less – which sucked not only because it’s sucky behavior to process, but because I was really excited about both the piece and the publication.
One other writerly highlight was that Lily Collins DM’d me while she was in Paris, filming season 2 of Emily in Paris, to say she was loving my book. At first I thought it was a prank, but she was wonderfully fun and gracious as we traded messages for a while. Paris, My Sweet is coming up on its tenth anniversary, and it thrills me that people are still discovering and reading it.
During the summer lull, when everyone was vaccinated and hopeful, my family had a giant reunion, which was epic. Every member, from Seattle to Houston to Abu Dhabi and beyond showed up. It was a reminder that you need to push for those events more often. They are magical and what life is about.
I’ve always believed that it takes a year to feel settled in a new place. The second year of being in a town or city is always really special as you start knowing your way around, having a sense of rhythm, and forming a community. It’s been really fun the past few months, having that sense: that we are surrounded by young, fun families and have a good time together. Parker is making her friends, and Andrew and I are finding ours, and once in a while we even go out at night and realize: ‘Wow – we have friends. How exciting!’ Lol.
But on the subject of friends, I lost a friend this fall. He was part of a circle of high school friends who are like brothers and sisters. He was, in fact, my brother’s best friend. It was a devastating and cruel loss. He was so spectacularly kind and smart and all-around awesome that it’s just wrong that he got cancer and suffered an ugly death.
Around the same time, two friends lost a parent. Death is always a possibility – it’s an inevitable part of life. The silver lining, if there is one, is that it makes you more aware of your fortune. It reminds you to hold your friends and family a little tighter. To be a bit more present. To share thoughts, affection and admiration more freely. To do what you want with your time and be grateful for every minute of it.
