Folks, I’m afraid I’ve girlbossed too close to the sun.
I am entering my fourth (that sounds wrong but I did indeed fact check) week of school. I finally got a job that starts this week, which is great and necessary because last week was my last of unemployment money. Plus I have a graduate assistant position. And I have a GRIEF AND MEDIA PROJECT to think about!
Everyone said grad school is hard, but I just sort of figured it wouldn’t be that bad. It’s bad!!!! It’s so bad!!! I’m happy to be here, and I’m glad I’m doing it, but oof. I do think I’m still finding my footing amid it all, so I hope I can report back in the coming newsletters that I’m doing a lot better. It’s sort of character-building experiences like these that make people become the type to use their Google calendar. I don’t know if scheduling times to watch The Secret Lives of Mormon Wives will make me a better person, but I might have to try. I wish I could call my mom about this.
I had my 10-year high school reunion last weekend, which was absolutely bonkers in every way possible. People have complicated relationships with high school and that’s fine, but it was incredibly important for me to go. High school is the last thing I have with both of my parents, before grief became such a big part of my life. Also, I’m generally a nostalgic person anyway, and I loved the idea of connecting with people I haven’t seen in years.
Of course, the reunion weekend was the hottest weekend of the year in San Diego, so I was sweating out of my mustache out of both nerves and necessity. I didn’t know what to expect walking into the venue, but after about 20 minutes, I was hopping from table to table to try to talk to everyone. I laughed, I cried, I sweat, and everything else Gwyneth Paltrow said.
I felt so myself, if that makes any sense. Multiple people told me I haven’t changed, and I loved hearing that. When you feel like your whole world and everything about you has been flipped upside down and shaken until all the coins come out after losing your parents, it feels good that people see you as the same old (actually sooo young) Alex. Maybe I’m not different now after all, maybe I’m still me and my parents influence in my world is as strong as it ever was.
These last few weeks, I keep thinking about a particular memory from high school. It was maybe a month after my dad died, and someone I was class friends with asked to hang out after school. I don’t remember exactly what we did, maybe got ice cream or something, but I remember I drove her home afterwards. When we got to her place, we ended up sitting in my car talking for a while about grief and my dad and her stepdad, because she had lost her stepdad when she was younger and I had no idea. I still look back on that interaction as one of the nicest things someone could have done for me amid my grief. Unlike what felt like everyone else, she wasn’t afraid to ask me questions about my dad and see me cry, likely because she had experienced grief before too. I need to reach out to her and tell her this—I’m so thankful to have this memory.
I am obviously watching The Secret Lives of Mormon Wives, and if you’re not, get on it! Like, it’s to a point where I need to drop out of school so I can keep watching. I’m only on episode three, and I’m looking forward to watching more (during my nine p.m. appointment).
The show follows a group of Mormon moms who live in Utah and happily made TikToks, until the main girly Taylor Frankie Paul reveals that they’re all swingers, which is where the show begins. All the other women deny being a part of the sex scandal, which makes the show become a game of Clue to me because you know some of them must be lying. They’re all the breadwinners of their family and also almost certainly do 99 percent of the work when it comes to child and house care. They’re not running on coffee, just soda and vibes. They’re all getting botox for the botox but also for the laughing gas. I love them so much.
Also, I’m late on this game because I’m still at the point where I think Sabrina and Steven are a lovely couple, but I’ve been watching Love is Blind UK. Bloody good show!!!! Any show with a UK version is already going to be significantly better than any American iterations, so I highly recommend it. There are a lot of conversations around grief that I thought were really nice to see, especially with my favorite contestant Maria. I’ll be writing about this more when I finally finish it.
Okay, friends. I have promised an essay and a The Summer I Turned Pretty deep dive, which are still on my to-do list. As mentioned, I’m starting work this week, so I’m going to schedule my writing times likely for the next coming weeks in the Google calendar. I’m hoping I find my groove to work on longer pieces, but I will be prioritizing this weekly newsletter and additions to the database above all other parts of the project for the time being. Thank you all for your support. <3
I wanted to highlight the music page of the database, and share Drops of Jupiter by Train. For those who don’t know, Patrick Monahan wrote it in honor of his mom who passed away from cancer. It’s a song that feels very fall to me, and one I was especially obsessed with and would listen to on repeat in 2017. Now that I know the meaning behind it, it makes me cry every single time.
As you can see, the music database could use more additions, so please share any grief-y songs here.
That’s it for This Week in Grief and Media. Please consider sharing the GRIEF AND MEDIA PROJECT with a friend. It would mean the world! <3
Don’t forget to join the conversation in the comments! How was your week in grief? What media are you consuming this week? Are you in an entertaining Facebook group a la BAGGU Enthusiasts? Tell me all about it.