Cheers to a New Year⁠—But First, Nostalgia

It is difficult to reflect thoroughly on all the experiences I crammed into the last 12 months. Until I flipped through my photos from the year, I'd forgotten about entire vacations I took. I met countless new people, strengthened some relationships and said goodbye to others, took tens of thousands of pictures (mostly of food, cocktails and flowers), traveled every chance I got, ate meals that made me feel like I could sit back and die of contentment, danced and scream-sang to live music delightfully often, had a buncha brand new experiences, and learned lessons I'll continue to carry with me and build upon.

During the month of July alone, my parents visited me in Boston, I flew to Utah unexpectedly, I hosted a wake, I won a recreational grass volleyball championship along with legendary team The Nerd Herd, I started dating again after a breakup, I said goodbye to my soulmate when she moved to Puerto Rico, I decided I'm writing a book, and I started going to therapy twice a month, which has been one of the most important, impactful and absolutely positive decisions I've ever made. Hard recommend.

Back in January, I celebrated a year of living in Boston, and in a couple weeks I'll celebrate two. Throughout the year, I gave a handful of tours to visiting family and friends. I moved from Somerville to Cambridge and visited at least seven new cities (Nashville, New York City, Victoria, Barcelona, Seville, Madrid), two new countries and one new continent, in addition to traveling home to Tucson three different times, returning to Seattle, Utah, New York City and Nashville, and taking day and weekend trips to close-by New England towns. 

For friends I've met since moving here, I went to engagement and bachelorette parties, a wedding and a baby shower, and I got to attend the wedding of a longtime Tucson friend. I was equal parts disappointed and relieved to miss my 10-year high school reunion. I went sailing for the first time (not a fan). I gained some responsibilities at work, sang live-band karaoke, went to the drive-in movies, camped in New Hampshire, locked eyes with a movie star, baked a crisp out of apples I picked myself and hugged a personal hero. 

I organized a group of over 15 old and new friends through Somerville's Porchfest, my favorite Boston-area event during which local musicians play on porches for passersby throughout the four square miles of Somerville. On one porch, I saw a band I liked so much that I took a solo road trip to see them in Portland, Maine, (make that eight new cities) and bought tickets to two more of their shows in town. 

I made sure to maximize time spent outside during the 10 days of perfect Boston weather, even if all I had the energy for was laying in my hammock on the porch in my pajamas. Spotify tells me I discovered over 200 new artists, and just for fun I designed custom cover art for each of my carefully curated playlists. I did my best not to miss out on any quality content in this new golden age of television (have you watched Fleabag, Killing Eve and Brené Brown's The Call to Courage yet??)

I ran through airports at least four times, and I barely made it on all but one of those flights. I made significant additions to my stacks of unfinished books and half-written blog posts. I lost my wallet and items from my wallet upwards of 10 times, and I've lost an estimated seven earbuds. 

I sobbed through heartbreak, loneliness and longing. I stayed in bed for weekends at a time, not feeling able to come out from under the comforting weight of my 25-pound blanket. I've been mad at the world and the powers that be, and too many times I let discouragement and uncertainty keep me from doing anything about it. I sat in an oil-and-water mix of emotions when I was together with my whole extended family but it was to grieve the loss of my grandfather. 

I finally accepted that the pursuit of perfection and universal admiration is a losing game, so I decided to start playing a different one. I let go of cherished outcomes and learned to find joy in processes instead. I relaxed my shoulders a bit more and took hella deep breaths. 

I'm a better networker, cook, baker, planner, decision-maker. I'm still learning to be a better friend, coworker, partner. I'm a more active participant in every moment and less of a nervous observer. I'm better at embracing what is and looking toward what might be with curiosity and excitement over fear. I'm more joyful, free, patient, accepting and comfortable, and I'm less afraid.

I still wrestle too often with my inner critic and wonder why things just can't be perfect. I'm still a lazy procrastinator, and I wish I could be on time. I'm still awkward and forgetful, sensitive and emotional, wordy and oversharing, obsessive and particular, romantic and optimistic, but I'm more accepting of it all. I'm more Katelyn than ever, and I'll continue to be.

I end today as I hope to end every day, year, decade, moment: having really fucking lived every drop of it wholeheartedly and imperfectly, with as much courage, curiosity and joy as I can manage.

In the words of that hero I hugged this year, love and light to you and yours. Onward.

It's a perfect, simple Sunday.

I woke up around 10 and finished my rewatch of the first season of Fleabag. Masterpiece. I threw some clothes in the wash and commented on a silly Halloween tweet.

Around 11, I went downstairs to pour myself some cold brew and eat a banana, though I was craving waffles.

While I was in the kitchen, both of my roommates came down and chatted for a bit before leaving, one to take her boyfriend to his first spin class and the other to play in an MIT alumni field hockey game.

With the house to myself, I decided to go ahead and make waffles, and I threw on the newest Joseph album to dance around the kitchen to.

I cut the batter recipe in half and justified eating all three waffles it made by telling myself this meal could count as both breakfast and lunch. I used for a topping some local apple butter I got during an apple picking trip a few weekends ago and ate my perfectly fluffy waffles out on the patio. It's a gorgeous early fall day, 70 degrees and sunny.

While eating, I read my favorite chapter of Eat, Pray, Love (Chapter 48, about getting over difficult love and the real meaning of a soul mate) and direct messaged Liz Gilbert about it on Instagram. Zappos replied to my tweet comment earlier, so I thought I might get lucky with another response.

Back upstairs, I switched my laundry and compiled a playlist for how today has felt so far: sweet and slow with quiet but powerful undertones of contentment.

Later, I'm going to the first installment of a weekly lady hangout with some girls I met at Porchfest back in May. The Facebook event description says, "Presenting the inaugural meeting of the Sunday Evening Ladies' Club! Our mission is to provide a welcoming environment to celebrate the women in our lives. Our weekly(ish) meetings will be a haven to hang out, play games, watch movies, share food and connect with friends. Strictly no boys allowed." I'm in love with the idea and really like the girls who organized it, so I've been looking forward to it for weeks. I even opted out of a road trip to the Big E (the New England Great State Fair) with Rachel and Mike today so I wouldn't miss it.

I finished my laundry and headed back downstairs to make a treat for Ladies' Club: fall mix puppy chow. My new playlist filled the kitchen with exactly the right vibes. My roommate and her boyfriend came back from spin, and we had a delightful little chat before I finished the dishes and headed back upstairs to memorialize a perfect morning by writing it down. Next, I'ma return to the patio to chill in my hammock.

Days like these feel like biting into a big, juicy fall apple picked from the tree—a tiny bit warm from hanging in the sun, sweet but tart, delicious and nutritious.

Part of me wishes I had someone to share these moments with. I kept thinking of my mom and niece, who had a sleepover last night and were hanging out at the playground this morning. How I wish they could have popped over to my place to make waffles and puppy chow. They'd love to sit out on my porch and enjoy the weather with me, and then we could've had a dance party in the living room and walked to the park behind my house. If only Massachusetts bordered Arizona.

But how could I have dwelled on anything that was missing when so many things were just right and wonderful? No, I won't steal the joy from right now by wishing it could be more perfect—I'll enjoy what is.

Delight in simple pleasures, friends. This moment is all we have.

"What do you think about this for my dating app profile?" I text Julia.  

Seeking fellow blob of inconsequential cosmic dust with whom to collect as many joyful and meaningful experiences as possible for the brief and beautiful time we're floating around space on this tiny blue speck. Care to discuss over drinks the insane fact that we even exist or more normal things like the current TV show you're binge-watching in order to avoid The Uncomfortable Truth that one day relatively soon you and everyone you love will die? 

"I can't tell if you're serious," Julia replies.  

"Serious," I send. "But reading it again maybe I could tone down the existential despair just a tad."  

Seeking fellow blob of cosmic dust with whom to collect as many fun and meaningful experiences as possible for the brief and beautiful time we're here. Care to discuss over drinks the absurdity of our existence or more normal things like the current TV show you're binge-watching? 

"I guess the people who'd relate to it are the type you're searching for," Julia responds honestly and with the resigned support that can only come from someone who loves me as much as she does despite regularly thinking I've lost it. 

I spend every free moment for about four days pondering and redrafting my blurb, a process which includes but is not limited to:  

• Creating a "Dating" section in OneNote to compile personality assessments and comprehensive lists of who I am, what I like and dislike, and qualities I'm looking for in a romantic partner and relationship 
• Looking up the definitions of words like admiration, pathological and enthusiasm to make sure my word choice is as accurate as possible 
• Sifting through my quote book for well-phrased wisdom about life, love and interpersonal connection 
• Counting the number of items I list in a sentence because it's often said series of odd-numbered things are more pleasing  
• Literally Googling, "how to be funny" 

I consider using, 404: Profile Not Found. A perfectly endearing and representative description of this person could not be found due to overthinking, crippling perfectionism and a devastatingly low character count. 

I try listing some personal attributes and hobbies—too vague. A line of emojis? Too basic. Short and cryptic, not me. 

How about showing I know myself well and can be upfront about shortcomings? That way he'll know what he's getting into. You've been warned, sir! 

Pros: supportive, reliable, creative, observant, loyal. Can find beauty, meaning and harmony even in mundanity and hardship. Cons: oversensitive, self-critical, long-winded, oversharer, procrastinator, obsessive, particular, insomniac, carbaholic, lazy, worrier. Loved Star Wars episodes I–III and thinks no other Star Wars movies are worth watching. 

Or here's an approach I call Emote So Hard Motherfuckers Wanna Swipe Me! (Vigorous leftward swipes, that is—might as well weed out the intimacy-averse as immediately as possible.)

I want to share all of my life with someone, from everyday mundanity to adventuring around the world. Seeking a committed partnership of equals in which we can both be completely ourselves, will aim to love and understand each other well, and ridiculously admire, support and encourage one another toward our best selves. Swipe right if you're unafraid of conflict, practice vulnerability and feel you have realistic expectations about long-term relationships.

But maybe there's a way I can attempt to convey my many complex and seemingly contradictory dimensions?

I'm good at mingling at the party but really love finding a deep, intense or interesting conversation with 1–2 people camped out on a comfy, quiet corner of the couch. Equally enjoy staying in to binge TV all day and hitting up a crowded bar for dancing or karaoke all night. Happy camper, happier city-dweller. Homebody and world traveler. Deep thinker who sometimes takes things too seriously but loves to be silly and have fun. Sensitive and analytical. Creative and methodical. Organized and flexible. To dichotomous choices I like to say, "Why not both?"  

Ugh, I contain too many fucking multitudes for 300 characters.  

I haven't even started interacting with actual people yet. I have no idea what the "correct" approach is here except that there probably isn't one. I'll never be able to write the perfectly representative profile. I wasn't meant to fit into these text boxes.  

Too bad I can't just link to this blog post. Is there a dating app that allows users to submit a 1000-word personal essay? That's where my people would be. 

Here's what I ended up with for now:  

Happiness is how strong the wifi signal still is from my hammock out on the porch. Social introvert, pathological optimist, experience collector. Into TV, enthusiasm, lengthy conversational podcasts, walking around a new city, efficiency, well-curated playlists, cocktails, live music, making lists. ISFJ