see how they run

I’m writing to tell you I’m not unhappy. If that’s been a misconception. She nodded grimly when I said I’d been feeling lonely. I don’t know who can sit with me these days, on the kind of benches I sit on. She winced apologetically, “It’s hard when you’re so unhappy.” I was surprised to hear this assessment. I corrected her. I’m not unhappy. I am happy most days. I am just also very sad. I think there’s a difference in being unhappy vs. being both happy and sad at once. I noticed, in that same conversation, how I tend to talk about what makes me so sad. I often outstretch my arm, just off, as though the genocide is in the room with us. Like, hey no sudden movements—the climate crisis, it’s right over there.

It’s been one of the grander discoveries of my life that it seems most people have some kind of brain mode that can numb the sad away. I wasn’t born with that toggle. While we’re watching TV, Puhg will sometimes even reach his paw toward my head and make a “click” sound, like he’s trying to turn it all off for me. But he knows, as I do, there is nothing on Earth that can silence the beehive in there. For the love, I could be on a beach chair in Tahiti and still be consumed by my hatred of capitalism. I say “I could be” as though this example isn’t just an anecdote from three summers ago.

Living unnumbed used to be slightly easier because I prayed about the horrors, which offered me the illusion of control. But now I see prayer as an oppressive tool. Not all the time (gray areas abound)…but in instances of inequality and injustice. In instances when it’s a frilly little sugar pill to make people feel better about their lack of action. In instances when it makes us feel better about what is unnatural to just “feel better” about.

As of late I would describe myself as “haunted all the time.” It’s not so bad. I’ve always liked ghost stories. I remember not minding when Haley Joel sees the hung corpse in The Sixth Sense. I used to think I’d turn off the Darkness if I could, god knows I've tried. Recently I wonder if it’s part of the package. I can go sicko mode for hours over school shooting data. I click through pictures of children’s rooms, their little coffins. I read through their parents’ crashed out Twitter feeds. I listen to the 911 calls. At the festive party of course I randomly sit next to the woman whose third grader has recently died, and to be honest it was the best seat in house. I watch looping videos of the floods at that summer camp or ICE raids or interviews with sexual assault survivors. I let rage flow through me, as it has the right to do. This world inspires rage in me, and I won’t pretend it doesn’t. But the only time I think I am actually truly unhappy is when I feel I can’t be myself. And being myself includes speaking my truth. I simply cannot pretend disturbing things aren’t happening when they are. It’s not who I am. It makes me want to die to pretend. So that’s probably where the confusion comes from: I need to express the sadness to be authentic to be happy. This paradox probably explains why, historically, when I am most myself, that is when most people run away.

Some really nice things have happened lately. In mini August alone. Started STRONG with a last minute ticket to see Lady Gaga, one of the top five concerts of my life! Maybe I’ll write a postlet about it. Last Monday went to the basement wine bar to see Bunhead’s set with SW. Laughed in the mood lighting at two girls doing musical prop comedy. Puhg and I saw Weapons in a nearly sold-out theatre. It was an incredibly rowdy room, we were all screaming and laughing and cutting up—such fun. My sweetie has already inflicted two heinous scares on me, inspired by the film. He hit the lights and lunged at me, then a couple days later, he sprinted at me from behind when I thought I was home alone. I wrote something a bunch of people seemed to enjoy. The gal who runs the local shop and I went to lunch so she could tell me about her real life. So our seven year “friendship” is more than “And how are you today? Good?” Sat down at the hip lunch spot with Big Comedian's exec and he kicked it off right away: “How does it feel to be the coolest kid in Hollywood?” I nearly spit my water out, told him I’m not. He was SURE I was being modest. If only he knew! Can you be cool if you’re actually just a sea cucumber who responds to emails efficiently? I wrote a ton of PSAs for a local immigrant collective. I called the White House about Gaza. I got to be in a mini writer’s room for a brand new musical show, and it filled my cup full. Caught a matinee of a Mary Kate & Ashley classic at The Academy Museum. Wrote at the knoll, listened to Knox at the pool. Went on my friend’s podcast and we all laughed until we cried and then they paid me $100. The monthly gab was useful. I walked around the hills for two hours chattering with Snake, pool following. Taylor Swift is releasing her 12th studio album sooner than I thought she would.

you you you broke my rose-colored glasses  / so go play in traffic

Original or Cool Ranch

Ran into TT at the grocery store last night. In the chips and candy aisle. He threw his arms up, full of Oreos and crackers. “I’m snacking OUT!” he announced. TT is a Chicago comedy expat like me, though we didn’t actually meet until we moved here. We both do this bad monthly show sometimes, and I always find myself cackling uncontrollably when he’s up there tossing his body around. What TT lacks in commitment to the reality of the scene he makes up for in his clownish ability to do anything for a laugh. TT will smash his face to the floor if he thinks someone in the back row might chuckle. I told TT he is the perfect person to see in the chips and candy aisle at 10 PM on a Saturday. He held up a jar of beef jerky. “But this is too much, right?”

I nodded, then admitted: “I’m mostly saying that as a militant vegetarian.” TT put the jerky jar back on its shelf. “Wow, this is a great!” I said, “I feel like I really made a difference.” I explained I myself was on the hunt for Doritos.

Friday my high school friend aa was going to swing by my spot, my sacred grassy knoll. Inviting friends to the knoll is part of my plot to de-monetize more of my social interactions. But it’s a process. I don’t feel totally comfortable offering nothing when I host, even if I am hosting on a median. So I stopped by the store to pick up…something. I went with Doritos.

aa and I sat on the sunny ground, gabbing about the weight of living inside a genocidal empire. We were earnestly imagining all the starving babies when I popped the shiny bag open. Crunch crunch crunch, it had been years since I’d eaten Doritos. What a foolish mistake. Doritos are next to godliness, I remembered solemnly. We watched the hipsters walk uphill to the Father John Misty concert. We relocated to my balcony. We parted ways. I had another bowl of Doritos as Puhg and I watched You.

The next day (Saturday, yesterday) I wrote at the cafe until 3, dashed home for pool time before the chairs were swallowed by shadows, sent Marco Polos about indie art to Lav, let my hair dry in bed while finishing the bag of Doritos. Headed over to SW’s, so we could join their evening dog walk before our scheduled movie night. SW was wearing a juicy sweatsuit.

The four of us had pizza and watched Happy Gilmore 2, which was legitimately very funny and also slightly woke! Good job, Adam Sandler! My young actor friend CS was in it, a pretty good role too. Beyond happy for him.

Which brings me back to last night. Home from the movie, a bit hungry again. I thought to myself, “You know what I could really go for?” I went with Cool Ranch. TT and I chattered for a bit as I gripped the blue packaging. I asked what he was going to get up to. He said his girlfriend was out of town, so he was going to play video games all night. I asked how long they’d been together. Eleven years turns out. I told him twelve for me, feels like no time at all though. He agreed. I said my relationship is the longest thing I’ve ever done. “Not me!” TT said, “Improv!” We laughed until we cringed. I winced, well, sure, me too. I had thought TT was from the Midwest, but he corrected me, no, a small town up north. He said it was cool, that I'd like it. I asked why he was so cure I'd like it. "Well..." TT thought, "Because you're cool."

I made a big deal of this, sprinted away, shouting over my shoulder, "I have to go! Can't beat being cool! This conversation is all downhill from here!"

Puhg went to bed, so I ate a bowl of the new Doritos under the moon while watching TikToks about how AI is catapulting us into drought. After midnight I moved inside to eat a second bowl of Doritos in the cream chair while watching a YouTube lecture about Carl Jung.

This morning I worked out and read some of Crying in H Mart and pitched Puhg my newest artistic business idea (approved) and designed my Weekly Action Plan and tapped at a new essay. This afternoon I will go to the pool, fold the clean laundry, and assuredly finish my second bag of Doritos in 48-hours.

didn't do it on purpose, but gotta face the music

Partial List of Things That Have Happened in the Past Two Months, No Order

made friends with a crab on a black sand beach

watched young artists present my play! they did a fully choreographed dance to LWYMMD!

protested ICE and fascist government overreach

activated against Big Oil at City Hall with my climate group

wrote a Toy Conglomerate commercial

finished a different Toy Conglomerate project

very dramatic discussion in the back booth of Y_ R____, I can’t get my head around it and had to go back a week later, to think and eat mozzarella sticks alone

a promise from a director, the director dipping

a promise from a producer, the producer might have to dip

but the treehouse meeting

attention and ghosts, attention and ghosts, ghosts, two of them

The Campbell soup can with my mom

night walk from my sister’s on solstace

rainbow celebration of life

four trips to Portillos, or was it five

the seriousness of AI across tables

the silliness of gabbing on a porch as dusk falls, about pride and patriarchy

fancy fancy drinks in WeHo with boss

fancy fancy dinner in WeHo with boss and boss

download with my friend the newly famous stand-up

download with my friend the newly divorced businesswoman

watched a billion TikToks of that Hoodie Allen song

cried to hearing “The Scientist” live, lights all night, banana slurp following, digging the tunes with the rambling bassist

strawberry bubble tea with my sister

Dusty and Lav, we all murmur at the vegan diner

Jia’s fantastic, free pool party, forgot my sunscreen, forgot my swimsuit, forgot the names

office hours at my knoll

AM scheduled then bailed on lunch three times, it doesn’t bother me, everyone is insane, but I wish he’d done it before I ordered our expensive sandwiches

SW looking snatched, picking at her nachos, concerned about Mark Ruffalo

long pool lays listening to Tunnel Vision or reading Zami, finished Doppelgänger at the coffee shop, in the corner

wrote goddaughter at our summer camp

Secret Lives of Mormon Wives Season 2

Talked Cobra off a cliff from her cousin’s pool house in Santa Monica

Improved musical about Leonardo DiCaprio

clacking at the substack

encouraging Cass, she can sleep until 2

pastries every morning off the lake -- biscuit, cinnamon donut, coffee cake, almond croissant

karaoke room and facials, bench in an elevator

Chicago storm at the art museum

Chicago storm at the fancy restaurant with the cheese board

Dave & Busters with Lo, beat some teens at Mario Kart, air hockey

Taco Bell Cantina, met that actress, told her I was her for Halloween even

text argument with Shellz, but it’s funny, it’s funny

I Know What You Did Last Summer and Sorry, Baby and Final Destination at the movies

recognizing I may have been put on the planet to be present

watched the Zelda Ocarina of Time walk-through for the Shadow Temple, when Link finds the lens of truth

walking in the neighborhood at golden hour

If your ex man got a problem he can test me / I'm a good fella, Joe Pesci

May 19, 2025

 Up in the 6s, Midnights workout, off to the cafe—Puhg was already there, a bouquet at my seat! I ordered a new orleans with cold foam. The barista told me they were out, but then he beckoned to me, down by the espresso machine. He handed me my drink and a tiny paper cup of foam, a secret reserve from the mini fridge. “Just can’t be public about it,” he said. What a special birthday treat! I decided to spend the morning journaling, writing in this blog, tweaking an essay, eating a chocolate croissant, blueskying a short story in a brand new notebook.

Got very nice texts from my closest summer camp friends, my family, a few other randos, my neighborhood chat sweetly popped off. Called the patio to confirm, we could reserve the gazebo for 6:30. Called the restaurant to confirm, a table for 18 at 9 PM. Got a heavenly mani pedi from 12:15 - 1. Dropped by the bank to pick up an envelope of single bills. Decided to focus and plow through revisions on me and AB’s script. I send her the new draft to go out to her entire team (!) seems like a good sign it’s dated, right on the cover page, May 19, 2025.

Laid out my outfit for the evening. I often pick my birthday clothes several days in advance. For all my high school birthdays I wore the same polka dot skirt and a pink t-shirt. In college I wore the same blue sundress over and over. In my 20s I’m sure I ended up in sweat shorts every time. Hollywood Alice has leaned into boots and bright rompers? This year I decided to go with my most comfortable but “nice” choice—a black sleeveless dress and pink button-up. I’m trying not to buy new things just because an occasion is happening. In 2025 I’ve only bought four items of clothing: a pack of socks, a pack of underwear, a Beyonce concert tee, and a Beach Bunny tank top.

Around 3:45 headed down to the grassy knoll. Hugged my special tree, laid down on the ground listening to Liz Huett, I think. I finished Women Who Run with the Wolves. Another good omen I bet. Hustled home for a Zoom with my activist group at 5. Turned the camera off so I could listen but also untangle my necklace.

Puhg walked me down to the patio, giving me a big hug and his credit card before we parted ways. Saw ER first! I ordered a slice of the birthday cake, of course! SM arrived like an imp, SW was in a vest holding a party bag. No gifts! I chided. She interrupted, “But my whole thing is not listening!” Fair enough, she got me a diva cup. JG pulled up a seat with a mule, JW came in hot from the office, BM ambled on in with a huge salad, KM announced she was there though she almost died by childbirth last month, GKD showed up a little frazzled but cozy, and finally LD sat her rump down with a huge cocktail and a fat slice of Oreo cheesecake. I had everyone go around the table and say what they did that day. A favorite past time of mine, as all my friends have such unique lives. Something I like about myself is I don’t really feel jealousy about friendships. In a perfect world, all my friends would be friends. JG texted me the next morning even, “You continue to have the best mix of friends.”

It was cheesy, but at 7:30 I pulled out a bunch of notecards. On one side, a friend’s name in pink Sharpie, on the other, three bullet points of why I’ve loved them this year. I went around, clockwise, briefly sharing my gratitude. I didn’t plan for this to happen, but of course everyone responded with a nice comment in return. SJ showed up 80 minutes late, but strangely, right when I got to her card. “I didn’t hear anyone else’s!” she yelled.

Cliff notes: I encourage people to go for it, I encourage people to believe in themselves, people like to talk with me, sometimes people feel conflicted about something so they reach out to me (surely Alice has thought about this and has an opinion), I create reasons to celebrate and brag, “there was a cosmic shift in my life when we met,” a couple people commented on how well I bring a group together (case in point!), I write because I love to write, I hustle, strong moral backbone, strong moral backbone, “I asked myself what Alice would do,” the last gal shared: “the strongest moral compass of anyone I know.”

KM followed up, “I trust Alice. When Alice says the world is ending, I believe her.” Everyone kind of nodded. Almost no one in the group is independently friends, but this they share—the burden of knowing me, a realistic and honest person. But then JW piped up, “I disagree!” JW said it bluntly, so the group contracted. But then she added, “I think Alice is pretty clear we can SAVE the world.” Then everyone relaxed, nodded more. It was 8:30 already so we had to get moving.

I hugged people as some peeled off to their cars, as SJ waited at the valet. It felt so silly, meandering in a pack down V—-. When we got to the karaoke spot, SK was seated at the huge table alone, soon he was singing Chappell Roan. CG came in rocking a pink hat, she was at the mic first. What a team player! I went second, “The Archer” of course. People got beers and soup and tofu and BS sang Gaga and brought an exec friend who is a huge Swiftie. He respectfully asked my permission to sing “Wildest Dreams” as they ate giant plates of noodles. CN killed Abba, girls who weren’t friends destroyed “Suddenly Seymour,” CS got the whole place going with “Bad Blood.” JC did “Love Story” justice. SJR came for exactly 23 minutes, one of my closest friends who clearly misjudged her time and was freaked out about a deadline. TM and G seemed a little bummed we weren’t getting much quality time (because I was dancing and screeching, can’t believe other people were just in the restaurant having dinner?). Puhg reminded me my birthday is about me having fun, not promising others they will have fun. I very much enjoyed ripping through the bridge of “But Daddy I Love Him.” DR left in a huff because the DJ kept bringing up her family to sing Thai tunes while his Celine Dion request wilted. Ten minutes later he ran back in, “I’m next” he said. No idea how he knew, but he got up, belted how it was all coming back to him, then jetted. The highlight of the night was hands down Puhg surprising me with Vanessa Carlton! The place went wild as he pointed to me and I clutched my little heart.

Around 11 everyone was clearing out. I did an “All Too Well” before walking home with our neighbors. A lovely evening. Even though they’re moving soon. Puhg went right to sleep, but I had a lot of adrenaline to pump through. Brought out my journal—ended up sort of just sitting, then taking a hot shower. I got the mail on Tuesday to find cards from my mom, sister, and dad. It's a new era, I hope.

saw your face in mine, in a picture by our bedside

songs of this past rotation, last year's list

HOT TO GO -- Chappell Roan

so many places I got to dance! festivals and cemetery movies and in the car and in the mall and at the gay sports bar and with friends and enemies

Espresso -- Sabrina Carpenter

THE song of the summer, I feel like it was always playing when I walked into the comedy theatre, and I loved that

I Had Some Help -- Post Malone & Morgan Wallen

my little morning dance work-outs

Taste -- Sabrina Carpenter

pool afternoons

Constant Headache -- Joyce Manor

stomping around the neighborhood, then screaming it at the Greek

Girl, So Confusing -- Charli XCX & Lorde

one of the most inspiring pieces of art of the past decade!

Apple -- Charli XCX

just great vibes tbh

Michigan, 1975 -- The Gaslight Anthem

the older sound of my grad school band, I'm older also

Final Girl -- CHVRCHES

maj inspo for my movie with AB! often blasted it (or "The Man" driving over to her place)

Ivy -- Taylor Swift

I listen to this song every single time I work on my newest play, sometimes a hundred times in a row

10 Drunk Cigarettes -- Girly Girl Productions

not taking myself seriously, or trying anyway

Dial Drunk -- Noah Kahan & Post Malone

alone in a cottage, at night

Good Girls -- CHVRCHES

angry

Ego -- Halsey

watched the VMAs performance a few times, I think about it often

Don't Take the Money -- Jack Antonoff

shaking serious booty with J, second row, Jack jamming right to us as we jumped

When the Sun Explodes -- Very Nice Person

relaxed, zonked, in the back row then the front row of a movie theatre in Washington

State of Grace -- Taylor Swift

driving before dawn, cinnamon roll in my lap, leaves falling, on our way to hike

Got My Mind Set On You -- George Harrison

for some reason spoke to me, on the radio, after eating a burrito at a folding table

Please Please Please -- Sabrina Carpenter

HEARD A DUET OF THIS WITH TAYLOR SWIFT LIVE IN NEW ORLEANS WITH TWO OF MY CLOSEST FRIENDS I'M WORKING LATE COS I'M A SINGER

Fall -- Something Corporate

my goodness, my band still rocks, I got to sit alone at a tabletop, what heaven

Labour -- Paris Paloma

the election

The Manuscript -- Taylor Swift

all my cork boards of analysis

Hits Different & Welcome to New York -- Taylor Swift

the most blessed mash-up that's ever been mashed! truly hit...different

Colorwheel -- Liz Huett & Pretty Bird

under the tree and dreaming!

Yoko -- Maisie Peters

thinking

Hard to Love -- Lee Brice

enough said

She -- Greenday

something about this, not sure what

Nostalgia -- Suki Waterhouse

while escaping fire

Tubthumping -- Chumbawumba

screaming in A___'s living room, we all know what's happening, what could happen

The Giver -- Chappell Roan

skipping in the cold fields beyond the hospice center

How Bad Do U Want Me -- Lady Gaga

strutting like I'm in a music video when I am, in fact, walking to the grocery store

Eh, Eh -- Lady Gaga

dancing at the club with Grief, cherry cherry boom boom

Vanish Into You -- Lady Gaga

a deep meditation on who or what we all ever are, plus her Coachella videos!

Bodyguard -- Beyonce

loving on my bb hamster and also Queen B at the same time

Sweet Honey Buckiin -- Beyonce

look at that horse, on the very first night of her tour!

Sue Me -- Audrey Hobert

classic TikTok trend melted into my subconcious

Is She Really Going Out With Him? -- Joe Jackson

well, is she?

jasmine in bloom

after all that, last weekend

Friday morning I worked on an essay then covered my new producers' butts. Last week I had to do double the work because of their mistakes. I fretted over whether to--this once--help them out, to build trust and show I'm part of the team, or to send a cold overage fee email. Turned in my revisions just before I had to rush out for my activist meeting.

I'm heading a new environmental initiative. It's proving unpleasant as the group is all flakey 20somethings. I feel conflicted about how to elder them. Do I use tough love and teach them how to Do Things or do I get out now, to preserve my sanity? Is it more important I pull them along or let them realize failure will be the result of bailing? What did 30somethings do for me when I was 25? Of course, when I was 25 I would have never had the audacity to cancel twenty minutes before a session and text, "Can you set up a Zoom hybrid option?" Oh, this just occurred to me: is Gen Z so weirdly demanding/entitled because they've learned to be ruthless with corporations? Fair enough if so. I wish I'd been much more demanding with corporations and bosses when I was younger. ...Only Gen Z has trouble distinguishing what's a corporation and what isn't. Like, sure, if you get paid minimum wage, be late and disorganized for work. But maybe don't treat a fellow volunteer that way? Riffing.

I decided to wear a black leotard and "artists for ceasefire" pin to the comedy theatre. I felt so disappointed by my performance. Mainly because the show was actually perfect for me--I should have blown it out of the water. And I did just okay. To be fair, it was so hot in there. My brain can't rhyme as quickly in the heat. The audience suggestion was about nepo babies! I played Jeff Bezos's daughter! Who snuck off to do her first play! And only wanted her dad to be proud of her! Plenty of hijinks about my character taking a helicopter to rehearsal, bringing the cast Rolexes, eating filet mignon on snack breaks. It all culminated in a huge finale! The faux opening night! Z (as Jeff Bezos) sat in the front row! The lights dimmed! Hart--playing the director--pushed me to center stage! The piano vamped...! And I fumbled. I struggled with the lyrics and I barely danced and I really wanted my character to find herself instead of approval from her dad.... Next thing I knew, I was bowing and giving the "get home safe speech." The show must go on. Or the show must end. One of the two.

In the green room we all slumped onto the couches. The guys tossed out their favorite parts. I was feeling like a loser when the door creaked open...and the special guest for the next show walked in. A rising movie star. Everyone whipped their heads over to spy her. She looked at me and said, "Alice! AB just sent me your script today!" Wow. Had to be a top circumstances-are-making-me-look-cool moment of life. We hugged and gabbed and R snuck in to say "good show."

I walked out of the side exit where Z was standing against the brick wall. We small talked a little. We've been performing together every few months for six years, but we'd never talked more than ten minutes. We chatted for quite a while, lingering in that space of wondering if the other person is bored or not. About forty minutes later I asked, "what are you doing right now?" I pointed to the Mexican restaurant. We went in and sat at the bar. I asked if he was ambitious and he said he'd never been asked so directly, but yes!

I tromped home around 10, listening to TS of course. Saw a coyote by the park, a teen holding a big bag a few blocks later. I sidestepped him, a bit on edge with no one around. I skipped the song that was playing, looked up from my phone...and saw a man running AT me! I yelped and froze and then realized...it was Puhg. He's been upping his scares. This was a good one. "I really thought I might die!" I laughed as we trotted home.

On Saturday I slept in, made vicious to-do lists for the week ahead at the cafe, zipped home to transfer all my files onto my new computer. I hate such tasks, have been putting it off for months. But I did it, then rewarded myself with the first pool day of 2025! Sunscreen on, new Beach Bunny album in, taking notes for a new short story. The dip was excellent. Puhg suggested a date night around 7:30. I walked down to the gas station and bought a bag of jalapeño chips, got fresh mango from the cart out front, made my way to the knoll and my tree.

There's a tree with red bumps I've been spending a lot of time with. I like to lay under the shade and wave at her leaves. The traffic was atrocious so Puhg suggested the taco shop 1.5 miles away. A hefty walk, but a walk nonetheless. I had two vegan corn ones and we saw L____, who was picking up a to-go order. I saw JB's boyfriend at the next table over but couldn't remember his name even though we went to a haunted house together once. At the crosswalk, a car blasted its horn, screeching to a stop an inch in front of me. Puhg indignantly pointed at the flashing lights, at us, standing there. The car squealed around, honking more, making a big scene. A few people on the sidewalk witnessed all of it. One of them shouted out, "You're even wearing bright colors!" Indeed, Puhg was in orange shorts, me a neon pink shirt.

Sunday morning I woke up early to dance then gather some donuts. Puhg stepped out for a walk and cartons of iced coffee. We bopped over the movies, for the 9:35 AM showing of Friendship. We laughed a lot. "Not even noon!" Puhg said pulling into our parking spot. Called my mom for her holiday. After lunch I read on the balcony. Saw a huge spider on the wall, talked for a little bit. I took a selfie of us, texted it to Puhg, he came out to join. The spider got shy and hid under a corner of astroturf. I sent a ton of emails.

At least once an hour I felt the slime of shame slither through my body. Still thinking about that show. How I biffed it. I started to become superstitious even. Like what if my entire life was leading up to that moment, to inspire the children I saw in the audience to despise oligarchs and follow their hearts? I try to do a meditation but fall asleep on the floor.

Monday afternoon I am so upset with myself I decide to buy the livestream of the show for $10. I know it will be a painful watch, but I need to know exactly what happened. Come to find...I wasn't that bad at all. I wasn't off-key. And in the finale?! The context made everything work! My little dance moves were small and reliable enough that two guys were mirroring them behind me. A battle happened stage right! Perfectly timed with my chorus! I hadn't remembered a verse I sang about believing in myself more than my dad Jeff Bezos?! Everything rhymed?! The performance was...good?! Could I have written it slightly better? Maybe? But maybe not! Objectively, a 10/10! After all that!

Sweet Potato Always

first month, july 2023

last day, april 2024

 

so go on, go home