Dearest friend,
It’s been a while. The last time I wrote you, the sun was still beating down hard and I was in the midst of warm weather elation. Now, the snow sits in piles up to my waist after one of the worst blizzards in this region’s history.
I was born in July (a month that lives in the heart of the northern hemisphere’s summer) and spent much of my childhood in Los Angeles (the land of perpetual sun). So it’s no surprise that I feel most at home in warmer temperatures. I thrive in the heat. All this to say, it’s usually inevitable that with winter, my mood takes a sharp downturn, especially now that I live in the northeast, which is home to its infamously brutal and unforgiving winters. And yet, here I am at the tail end of December after being snowed in all Christmas feeling like…myself.
Reflecting on and processing an entire year always feels like an impossibility. But these past few weeks have really captured the essence of my 2022: a battering of snow, but met with a surprisingly unfazed response on my part — a clear and steady-eyed appraisal, a self-aware acceptance.
In my July wrap-up post on Instagram, I wrote about how this was the first year I felt like I could see myself clearly. For the longest time, looking into a mirror was like looking into space — peering into the depths of an infinite expanse of nothingness as far as the eye could see. I couldn’t pinpoint my personality, my interests, my desires, nor even my appearance. It was like perpetually living with a stranger, but the stranger was myself. So the past few years have been an endeavor to meet me, but along the way I’ve bumped into others as well. Because “finding myself,” despite common Western belief, did not mean withdrawal and isolation, but instead meant a turn outward, seeking collectivity and community and warmth in other human beings and their creations. All this in the form of my wonderful grad school cohort, bookstagram friends, and loved ones, but also in art and music and literature.
And so without further ado, here are some of the little pieces of the world that made their way into my heart this year. Connections to the wider universe beyond my insular existence, which in turn have taught me more about my own place within it. Here is my year, wrapped.
the library
TOP 5 BOOKS
→ Breasts and Eggs by Mieko Kawakami
→ Her Body and Other Parties by Carmen Maria Machado
→ Bright Dead Things by Ada Limón
→ The New Jim Crow by Michelle Alexander
→ Eclipse of Reason by Max Horkheimer
the record player
TOP 5 ALBUMS
→ Death of a Cheerleader - Pom Pom Squad
→ The Loneliest Time - Carly Rae Jepsen
→ Un Verano Sin Ti - Beach Bunny
→ SOS - SZA
→ Midnights - Taylor Swift
Honorable mention:
→ Mood Ring - Kississippi
the cinema
TOP 5 FILMS
As someone who very infrequently watches movies, one of my goals for the year was to watch 12, which I’m happy to say I did!
→ Jennifer’s Body (2009)
→ Promising Young Woman (2020)
→ Fargo (1996)
→ Nope (2022)
→ Trevor Noah: I Wish You Would (2022) (yes, I’m counting this)
TOP 5 TV SHOWS
→ Better Call Saul (brilliant, incomparable, unbeatable)
→ Survivor, Seasons 37, 41, 43
→ The Office (I watched the entire show for the very first time!!)
→ The Watcher (this was fun!)
→ Erased (anime)
My goals for 2023 are fairly simple. Last year, I didn’t set any numerical reading goals for myself, which felt so freeing. This coming year will be the same. No numbers, but once again a push to diversify my reading — in terms of publisher, author’s gender and nationality, and genre. Plus, of course, I want Murakami’s Jazz Club to run smoothly and on schedule.
I would like to watch more movies too and get through some of the recommendations I received via bookstagram earlier this year. Maybe one movie per month again, like in 2022.
Finally, in terms of my life more broadly, I want to find new hobbies (and stick to the ones I enjoy), write something I’m really proud of, visit new restaurants/bars, and focus more intentionally on my relationships (with my family, classmates, friends, and partner). Actually, I want to be more intentional with everything I do this year — intentionally empathetic, thoughtful, considerate; intentionally loving to both others and myself. This means being less judgmental, more observant, helping people around me in small and tangible ways. This also means loving the parts of myself that other people/society tell me not to (my buccal fat IS cute).
These thoughts will evolve I’m sure, but that’s all for now. I hope you’re feeling okay and warm and hopeful, wherever you are. Sending you so much love. I can’t wait for another year of writing letters to you!
A poem for the road:
To the New Year
W. S. MerwinWith what stillness at last
you appear in the valley
your first sunlight reaching down
to touch the tips of a few
high leaves that do not stir
as though they had not noticed
and did not know you at all
then the voice of a dove calls
from far away in itself
to the hush of the morningso this is the sound of you
here and now whether or not
anyone hears it this is
where we have come with our age
our knowledge such as it is
and our hopes such as they are
invisible before us
untouched and still possible
I hope you have a restful end of the year. I’ll see you in the next one.
With the utmost of love,
Charlotte
P.S. The Espresso Shot will be undergoing some changes in the coming year to accommodate my new book club (Murakami’s Jazz Club), my school schedule, and my desire to write more creatively and openly. Be on the lookout for more updates soon!
you were such a great part of my year and i'm so excited for murakami's jazz club! happy 2023 💜