Umm…hello?? Is this thing on?? Oop.
Yes, it’s me again. Back from the grave…that I evidently dug myself into. Funny how that works isn’t it? Anyways, before we really talk about what Club Jul is…let’s talk about the stupid stuff first. I mean, I have been gone since the middle of the Summer. I’ll let that sink in. For me. Because wtf.
Okay, so LOTS has changed since July. I finally FLEW THE COOP. Yep, moved out of the parentals unit. That was only in October, though. So, clearly I can’t blame that for my extended hiatus. If we’re being completely honest, I wrote the title of this post on November 18th, it’s now 3 weeks later. I truly have no idea what Club Jul is, but we’re going to roll with today’s version.
When I was writing over the Summer, I was touching on how hard it was for me, with the music industry being shut down. Especially when I was temporarily laid off. Whether I let the busy work schedule get the best of me again, or actually lost myself, I can’t really say. Maybe it was a combination of both, but I think we’re reset. Part of me has lost the little flame I once had to consistently write. I mean, all my content thrives on me making stupid decisions at music festivals. IT’S MY BRAND. Now my brand revolves around naming candles based on my dislike for men. Quite the contradiction, right? I can’t stand men, but here I am talking about them 24/7. ESPECIALLY, if they’re a musician. Honestly, cancel me. I deserve it.
So, what led me to sit here in this guest bedroom and start a little storytime? Honestly, just that. BEING ALONE. After a chaotic week, and past few months, I truly realize how much I miss my rare bursts of alone time. Where I’m stuck with my thoughts, and my Spotify, and I can just CREATE. However, I don’t owe it all to that. While I did create this post in freaking November, everyone’s Spotify Wrapped came out last week. Let me tell you, that shit sparked a FLAME in me. One that I thought died out many months ago, for the foreseeable future. Shall I explain more?
Everyone who has negative brain cells LOVES to shit on Spotify Wrapped. I mean, who wants to see their friends passionate about something, right?? WOW SO GROSS AND LAME AND UNCOOL TO POST ABOUT SOMETHING YOU LOVE. Literally the people who talk shit on Spotify posts, are the same people who go and post ten stories about their new car muffler. I’m looking right at you Ford F150 owners. I keep my mouth shut about your ugly little pee pee energy truck, so please stop crying about Spotify Wrapped. It’s old. Hating music is such a tired out trend. We get it you’re underground and like to listen to the sounds of rocks scraping together in your little cave. WE GET IT. However, it really made me feel something. I need to talk about it.
Not to be depressing, but my life has been so lackluster. I mean, I wake up, go to my living room to work, and go back to bed. Hit repeat. While I love my job, it’s getting harder to even perform creatively when my favorite outlets are considered dangerous now. I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again, if Coachella needs a guinea pig to test a festival on…I WILL BE THERE. Corona doesn’t want me, it’s probably a man that heard me talking shit about it. I’ll be fine. So…ya. I have gone through little bouts of semi-depressive episodes. Then I sit and think about my life’s path. Why? Don’t know. Everytime I do that it always leads me to one place. Sitting in my car, driving down PCH, blasting music. Literally the one thing that moves me. Don’t even MAKE me bring up Ocean Drive right now. I wish I could find that song in human form. What an annoying day that would be for all of you…not me. Anyways, last week my Spotify Wrapped came out. To say I didn’t immediately start crying would be a lie, but I also don’t want to give astrologers the satisfaction of knowing that I, a Cancer, was crying. It doesn’t happen often, but mainly when I’m really happy. I’m no simp. So, I’m sitting there, tears streaming, realizing that this year my playlist is STUNNING. What I thought was such an awful year, musically, turned out to be one of my best. Who would have ever known. While I’ve been trying to live my best life given the circumstances, it’s been a little tough trying to find lighter fluid to get me going. UNTIL LAST WEEK. It’s like night and day.
I knew at this point, I had to update one of my playlists. It’s what all my friends and family know me for. Well, I guess that’s a little dramatic. They know me, but they REALLY know this side of me. Strangers probably just think I’m a G-Eazy fan account. I very well might be, don’t trip. So, what better way to start this new journey at the end of the year, than with BBE. For those of you who clearly aren’t with it, BBE stands for Bad Bitch Energy. Men, you are allowed to possess this quality too. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. If you’re in my life reading this though, you are a certified rat. So, unfortunately, you can listen to this playlist…you just won’t be able to obtain any power from it. Sorry sweeties.
BBE truly gives you the ego boost you need, while occasionally keeping you humble. Right now, I am OBSESSED with the song “Bitter” by FLETCHER and Trevor Daniel. For some reason, I cannot stop beating that song to shit. Right when I think I’m done listening to it on repeat…I come right back. To some degree I feel like I’m morphing into FLETCHER with our coincidental outfit accessory purchases. So, hopefully when you hear that song on there, it resonates with you in some creepy way like that. Of course we have tons of powerful female voices on there, but we also have the classics. The songs that make me feel like I’m dancing in Indio. With my best friends. This playlist is for the people who are just trying to feel something. Whether that something is closure. Or maybe it’s power. It could even be the ego boost you need to run your ex over with a piano, Grand Theft Auto style. I DON’T KNOW YOUR LIFE. Whatever lights your fire, that’s what I want this to be. If it’s not…f you. Kidding…kinda.
So, unfortunately for all the bitch boys…I will be linking my Spotify Wrapped down below. This is also your formal invitation to send me yours. Whether you think I like your genre of music or not. You could be surprised, and I could be too. Sending music is sorta my love language. I don’t care if I like it or not, just the fact that you thought of me…*swoon.* I’ll also be sharing BBE below, we all know it. We all love it, but we have to appreciate her makeover.
Now this time, it isn’t ‘til next time. It’s SEE YOU POOP HEADS SOOOOON!