1) War with Iran
It’s wild that you were worried about this then. Because this feels like a more “now” concern. And let me tell you something: we are going to bomb the shit out of Iran in about five years. Israel will also be involved. And what’s going to blow your mind is that when it happens, it will be, like, the third or fourth most concerning thing happening in the foreign theater (so to speak). To put it another way, here’s where we are today: Ukraine has been at war with Russia for almost four years. It’s been awful and bloody and incredibly scary. Israel is semi, kind of not really holding to a ceasefire against Gaza, who they’ve been mass-bombing, desolating, and slowly starving out since 2023 with US assistance. The US Government, under orders from Donald Trump (he’s president again . . . I know), invaded Venezuela, kidnapped its sitting president, and appears to be planning some kind of long-term occupation with the intention of taking over the country’s oil industry and probably building a lot of Trump branded beach hotels on the Atlantic/Caribbean coast. Interestingly we still may be going to war with Iran, Israel’s certainly planning on it. Then maybe Canada/Greenland/Panama? This morning after the unfolding Venezuela debacle, we received some pointed words from Spain—Spain—so you know, we could be looking at a World War III type situation in which we, the US, will likely have no allies other than Russia, Hungary, Saudi Arabia, and maybe El Salvador, which sounds funnier than it feels when you’re in it. Try to keep things in perspective. However bad it is now, I promise you, it can and will get worse.
2) The Whole Roe v. Wade Thing
Oh honey, you might want to sit down for this one. You have about two and a half years left of abortion being widely legal in the US. On June 24, 2024, the supreme court will effectively strike down Roe v. Wade. It will be the same day as your local pride dance party. You’ll be wearing a rainbow dress, alternately sobbing and raging over something like five gin and tonics with a bunch of your friends full of people alternately sobbing and raging. This will happen during the Biden presidency (I’m so sorry to tell you that Elizabeth Warren is not going to win the primary), thanks to a Supreme Court entirely stacked with conservative justices. And you will feel obliterated. Part of your soul will just crumble. The pain will be worse than the post-surgical pain and 6–12-week recovery of the hysterectomy you’ll have six months later (you have terrible fibroids; do you know about those yet? I don’t remember). You’ll spend a lot of time reading about women dying or almost dying from bad pregnancies, crazy laws in other states encouraging neighbors to rat out neighbors for pursuing abortions, doctors afraid to save women’s lives, and whole rich messy plan to repopulate the world with white children and eugenics and tradwives that will ultimately somehow involve aging sorority girl influencers, crunchy stay at home moms, Elon Musk, and your least favorite actor on “Euphoria.” The ship has sailed on women and bodily autonomy, at least for now, at least in the US. If you really want to be on the vanguard of worrying about something, go ahead and start worrying about your right to vote. Then start doing everything you possibly can to support the immigrants and trans people in your life. They are going to need it and more asap.
3) My new house, will it close? And 3a) if not, will I be homeless February 1?
The house situation is going to work out for you. In fact, it’s going to (at least in the short term) work out quite well for you. Interest rates are low, and even though it seems like a lot of money, you’re getting a great deal on one of the last houses you’ll be able to afford in the town you live in and possibly in any town you’d want to live in. Not only will you close on January 10, but you will also refinance a couple of years later at an even lower interest rate at the last possible moment, by which point your home will have nearly doubled in value (I know). Calm your tits, though, because even after all that your house payment will still be significantly more expensive than your rent AND you’re about to learn two very important lessons about being a homeowner 1) it is wildly expensive and 2) you are not handy. On the bonus, having the house, and having a house abutting forested trails with a massive deck out back is about to be really important to you.
4) All these maladies I’m experiencing: Stress? Anxiety? Hypochondria? Actual Disease?
First up: it’s anxiety. It’s also perimenopause. It’s a real chicken/egg situation that I’m still trying to unscramble (ha!) some six years later. Here’s what helps: a little SSRI, a little estrogen patch, a little exercise, a little therapy. You will come to all of those things at different times. Ultimately, what will move the needle is all of them together.
You’re still spinning out over medical stuff that happened last fall (2019) and I get it. Please be advised that you are on the threshold of a global pandemic. In a little over two months, your public as you know it will end for (officially) something like 12 months and unofficially (off & on) for something like 2-2.5 years. You’re going to learn a lot of new medical language very quickly and you’re going to get very good at both ordering groceries and teleconferencing. Face masks will be important. So will toilet paper. Millions of people will die, including people you know. Your family will be mostly okay, except your favorite grandmother. She will not die of the pandemic, but she will die in the pandemic, and it will complicate things. Your cousin will get married during the pandemic. Your sister will get pregnant. Your other sister will be pregnant. You will have two nephews by the time the co-op stops requiring masks. You will not visit a movie theater, a concert, or a hair salon for eighteen months. You will not board a plane for almost two years. You will freak out about this a lot, but you will be, by every metric, lucky.
5) Have I spent too much money on records?
Nah. You’re not going to see live music for a while and you’re not going to be able to go record shopping in person for months, so have fun.
6) Have I spent too much money, period?
Yes. And you will continue to. At various times, you will justify this with the most fatalistic form of carpe diem. You will also give away increasingly large amounts of money to community organizations, NGOs, political candidates, friends, artists, family, and something called Mutual Aid that you are about to get a lot more familiar with in (checks calendar) not quite five months. You’re going to learn a lot more about police violence, white supremacy, and just how much your fellow citizens hate other citizens because of how they look. Re-read your John Lewis. Also brush up on your 19th century history. Your nativists and know-nothings. Make sure the money you give is being targeted to the people that need it most.
You will wonder whether you’ve been irresponsible or a fool every time you host a dinner party or buy a round. You will wonder whether it even matters in a world full of billionaires whose only interest is extracting more out of you while trying to figure out how to replace you with a robot (slight exaggeration . . . or is it?) You will remember that spending money to bring people together so they can share in each other’s friendship and struggles and triumphs is never the wrong choice, especially when the world around them is so very dark
7) What if no one ever truly loves me?
Hey. You are weird and sweet and silly and clever and smart. You have legitimately great taste and even though you are not rich, famous, nor easily mistaken for Cate Blanchett, you are a pretty fun hang, especially when you’re not telling yourself you’re a monster or a failure or a monstrous failure. Everything coming will go a lot easier if you let go of some of your shit and just be. You don’t have to like yourself all the time. Give a shot every now and then though. Just for me.
8) What if people are just not telling me how bad I look in these pants?
They might not be because you’re old. Don’t take that the wrong way. The Millennials and the Gen Z’ers are going to spend the next few years of quarantine bickering on social media about jean styles, sock heights, and hair parts. You will realize very, very soon that the time is nigh for making all of your fashion dreams come true. You love it? You wear it. Nothing is as flattering as feeling good about yourself in what you have on. That said: those skin-tight, leopard print, raw hemmed skinny jeans are not even comfortable. What you’re going to want to look for are silk brocade dragon pants. Trust me on this one.
9) ENVIRONMENTAL COLLAPSE. ARMAGEDDON. APOCALYPSE.
In about four years, a strong hurricane with an unusual path will follow a rainy stretch and barrel up over the Appalachian Mountains to devastate your hometown. It will be one of the worst things that ever happens to you, even though you no longer live in your hometown, even though, at least half the time, you can’t even decide if you like your hometown. None of that will matter because you have and will always love it, and more particularly you love the people, your people, and so many of them will lose their lives, homes, and livelihoods as rivers swell, roads disappear, landslides, and whole forests are matchbooked in half. Your family will come to shelter for a while nearby and you’ll spend a lot of time dazed and a lot of time crying. Somewhere in there Donald Trump will be elected again (this will be about four years after he tries to stage a coup—different story, different time), as president, on a platform of climate denial. A couple weeks before he is inaugurated, massive swaths of Los Angeles will be lost in uncontrolled wildfires. Again, friends will lose homes and livelihoods. And when Trump is inaugurated, he gut FEMA. He will defund NOAA. And the storms and fires will keep coming.
And the storms and fires will keep coming.
10) What if this is as good as it ever will be?
I can’t answer this question. Maybe I don’t want to answer this question. I’m not so much older than you are now, but it feels like eons have passed since you asked this. I’m staring down fifty years old. I have weird aches and pains. I have eye bags. I have no savings to speak of. I have zero confidence in where the world is heading and that I can do anything meaningful to improve it outside of my own miniscule circle of influence. You are at the edge of a precipice, that’s for sure. Change is coming. And most of it will not be change you like. You are getting older. Your parents are getting older. Things will happen to them. Things will happen to you. You will be hurt. You will be scared. Friendships, even dear ones, will fall apart. People will die. Including your single greatest advocate ever. You will miss her every single day. Because you will not realize until after she is gone what a rare and precious gift it is to have someone out there always and unequivocally on your team. You may be disappointed by the world but profoundly moved by the actions of individuals and communities. You will see beautiful things and visit places you cannot imagine. Some of them may even be in the real world. You will continue to make new friends. You will continue to do the work, even in the absence of rewards. You will wonder if you take up too much space in the world. You will wonder if the world has space for you at all. You will keep going, not because it is as always as you wanted or it could be or even as good as it was an hour ago or yesterday or last year or ten years ago or whatever, but because in every with every new breath there is the hope that it could be better and the choice and make it so.
There are children in my world (three nephews now and another coming in February). There are children in the world. They are clear-eyed and new and innocent. They don’t deserve any of the shit we are handing them. The least we can do is try, for maybe once in our lives, to act like grown-ups. We have neither the time nor the luxury to wallow in despair. I’m speaking for both of us here. It is the dead of winter. We have work to do and people that need us. If you’ve got to hold on to the worry, you might as well save it for lighter days.
11.) For real, though, where are my keys?
Refrigerator. Top shelf. Wedged between the Dijon mustard and the grapes you forgot. The latter are still good for a few more days I think. Just a thought.
Tiny Commotions 