August 2024, birthday blues
good riddance to this month
My birthday is August 17th. I tend to like my birthdays, and I have had nice ones, with a few notable exceptions over the years. This year, for the second time in my life, I had to go to a wedding on my birthday.
My friends Dan and Cory married a decade ago on my birthday. I characteristically threw a fit about it (Dan is a Leo, too), but it was a perfect way to spend my day. I dressed in a beautiful, of-its-time polka dot dress, took my friend Holly as my date, and enjoyed a beautiful celebration with a handful of my closest friends. An open bar, a reason to look beautiful and dance, and the first time I ever smoked a cigarette! The memories are strong, the pictures are great, and I had a lovely time turning 27(?).
This year was different. My boyfriend and I went to a family wedding, and while I enjoyed his family, I was just not in the mood to celebrate someone else. The past few birthdays have consisted of him and I having a nice dinner in town. Though there’s a joke about Leos having a whole birthday week or month, I’ve never been like that. I have realized, especially after this year, that I only want to have dinner at my mom’s house within a week or so of my birthday and have dinner and drinks with my boyfriend. I love receiving cards in the mail; I’m happy to eat a piece of cake; I don’t need all that much more. This year, being surrounded by people who didn’t know it was my birthday, forgetting two days of zoloft because of timezones, an impeding menstruation cycle, and being super homesick made my birthday a bummer.
But who cares? We went for drinks after we escaped the wedding, and the bartender was lovely. The drinks were on Dave, and I took a shot of tequila to feel alive. Turning 37 didn’t mean that much or feel that exciting to me, so a throwaway birthday is fine. The birthday blues hadn’t visited me since 2017, but they came to say hi again this year, and I can live with that.
In August, I learned some things about myself: it’s okay to prioritize my birthday and say no to stuff; New York City is one of my favorite places on earth; I am such a homebody; not having a job makes me feel bad about myself; and I am still so capable of feeling.
Here’s what I read in August as a fresh 37-year-old.
[Books I read]
To Grandmother’s House We Go by Willo Davis Roberts (1990) | Quick summary: Their mom is sick, and the kids think they’ll be put in foster care, so three children run off to the home of a grandmother they have never met.
I worshipped Willo Davis Roberts when I was a kid. Not only did she live in Washington state, but many of her books were set in small towns around the region, making little me feel seen. I don’t think he’s popular enough to critique in mainstream lit media, but if she were, I’d be curious to read insight into her dedication to writing about kids in precarious situations or, as I’d say to my friends, “fucked up kids.” As a fucked up kid myself, I was obsessed with Roberts’s subject matter: anorexia and bulimia, foster care, diabetes, kidnapping, child abuse. As I write that all out, maybe I will research her myself and figure out if I should thank her for her awareness or scold her for trauma porn. Regardless, I, at this moment, love her and love revisiting this dark (but not as dark as some of her books!) fictional narrative about keeping siblings together! This wasn’t among my top faves growing up, but it was a little traumatic hug to remember the story as it revealed itself.
[fiction, children’s literature, foster care, written by a white, american writer, quickish read]
Once Ghosted, Twice Shy: A Reluctant Royals Novella by Alyssa Cole (2019) | Quick summary: On business, Likotsi runs into the woman who broke her heart, and there are still sparks.
This is a cute, quick book I picked up to complete the “BIPOC romance” category for Book Bingo. I don’t care to read the rest, though!
[fiction, LGBTQ+ romance, written by a Black, american new york times and usa today bestselling author of romance and thrillers, quickish read]
I Who Have Never Known Men by Jacqueline Harpman; translated by Ros Schwartz (1995; 2019) | Quick summary: One of the 40 women who live imprisoned in a cage with no notion of time ends up being their leader as they escape prison and relearn about the world above ground.
This is one of the best books I’ve ever read. Originally published in 1995, I Who Have Never Known Men is Harpman’s first book translated into English, and what a gift that is to all of us who read English. This story manages to be simplistic yet devastating while providing commentary on being a woman, even if you really aren’t sure what that’s supposed to entail. I don’t want to say too much about this deeply interesting and beautiful story other than please read it!
[fiction, literary, sci-fi, translated from french, written by a white belgian writer who wrote in french, medium-length read]
Just Happy to Be Here by Naomi Kanakia (2024) | Quick summary: Tara is a trans girl at an all-girls school and must choose between the status quo and blazing a trail.
As the only out trans girl at her school, Tara is unsure if she’ll qualify for the super exclusive club, the Sibyls. Part of the application for the Sibyls includes reporting on a classical heroine; Tara is torn between Antigone and another of her favorites. Though she ultimately doesn’t get in in a traditional manner, this story is about hardship, friendship, and being a young person. I didn’t love this book even though I found the plot super unique—I just don’t tend to enjoy ancient Greek stuff. (Sorry!) Shoutout to trans storytellers, though; this book rules for teen girls.
[fiction, teen, YA, LGBTQ+, written by an indian american trans woman, shorter read]
Revenge Body by Rachel Wiley (2022) | Quick summary: Poetry about anger, Black identity, mental health, breakups, meds, and bodies.
I picked this up from the library for the “body liberation” category in Book Bingo before realizing I’d already fulfilled that category with Fearing the Black Body. I read it anyway, of course, and was taken with Wiley’s sharp, honest critiques of everything aforementioned in the “quick summary.”
[nonfiction, poetry, written by an american queer, biracial poet and performer, short read]
[Books I heard]
This American Ex-Wife: How I Ended My Marriage and Started My Life by Lyz Lenz (2024) | Quick summary: Research, memoir, and pop culture come together to tell the story of American marriage (and divorce) today.
I love to read about subjects that don’t directly apply to me, like marriage, motherhood, and divorce. I’ve heard a lot of praise directed at Lyz Lenz’s latest memoirish-nonfiction study about marriage and divorce, and it certainly lives up to the hype. I always enter a book written by a white woman (especially a straight white woman) with apprehensions, but Lenz does a thorough job of weaving her divorce story into ages of cultural context, including BIPOC experiences and the acknowledgment of her critiques on marriage and divorce being rooted in straight, cis relationships and history. Thoroughly researched, honest, sad, and reflective. I loved this.
[nonfiction, memoir, family studies, marriage, written by a white, american new york times bestselling author, medium-length listen, read by the author]
The Diana Chronicles by Tina Brown (2008) | Quick summary: A very well-researched biography of Diana, Princess of Wales.
I was ten years old when Diana died, and I genuinely had no idea who she was other than being very aware that her death was an earthquake, a profound tragedy that shocked and saddened everyone, even in America, where we don’t have princesses. Though Diana has been a presence even well beyond her death, until I listened to this book, I didn’t know who she was. And boy, was she a dish! Fashionable and sexy, sure, but also deeply interesting, strategic, saucy, and kind of terrible at times? It’s very fun to realize someone who exists on a pedestal, even posthumously, was a real person and a true princess.
[nonfiction, biography, royal history, UK history, written by a white, British writer and editor, read by rosalyn landor, long! listen]
Troubled: A Memoir of Foster Care, Family, and Social Class by Rob Henderson (2024) | Quick summary: A memoir about growing up in foster care and the concept of “luxury beliefs.”
Most of you know or should know, that I have a vested interest in foster care, adoption, children’s lives, and poverty—partially because of my future studies and career and partially because of my lived experience. I’ll read every story of someone who grew up in foster care, and Henderson’s is a great one as far as highlighting the root causes and lasting effects of traumatic childhoods. I’m going to write about this for my paid newsletter, but I would highly recommend it, especially if you don’t think about what your life might have been like if you had to grow up without your family.
[nonfiction, memoir, social psychology, foster care, written by a biracial american writer and political commentator, read by the author, medium-length listen]
[What I recommend]
If you enjoy revisiting your childhood: To Grandmother’s House We Go
If you are a person: I Who Have Never Known Men and Troubled
If you’re interested in marriage and divorce: This American Ex-Wife
If you’ve always wondered what’s up with Diana: The Diana Chronicles
Being home on your birthday
