Fall resolutions

pumpkin spice up your life

Fall (my favorite season!) is here, which means I’m officially old because I used to stan summer. These days, the warmth feels too manipulative for my liking. Forget your shitty ex, the sun is the ultimate gaslighter, all, “Look at me! Ignore your problems!” and so you do, meanwhile, it’s aging your skin and cooking the planet. Before long, a full-blown existential crisis hits when you realize you’ve got a rage reservoir and nowhere to dump it (that’s why Californians are so angry on the roads – it’s too damn sunny).

My friend Diana recently recommended I read Rick Rubin’s “The Creative Act.” I didn’t expect much from a guy who swears by vibes, and albeit packed with cliches, somehow, the book felt epiphanic. (In reality, it was probably more like soda dressed as Olipop; an enemies-to-lovers box-office hit that begs the question, can this top model act, or is she just hot?). One takeaway that I gleaned was:

Essentially, leading with creative intention means staying aware. Awareness is easy when I’m triple-checking the weather app like it’s the stock market, trying to predict if I’ll need a raincoat or windbreaker, ballet flats or Frye boots. What better time than fall to start making a conscious effort to live. 

I’ve never been one for New Year’s resolutions (why make grand life plans in the dead of winter when we should be decomposing like forgotten leftovers?). So, I’m starting a new thing – fall resolutions. Cozy, reasonable, and perfect for someone who thinks bedrot and Cheez-Its for dinner are acceptable forms of self care. 

1. Reminisce on youth.

My fall mind map inextricably contains back-to-school. Even though I’m [REDACTED] years out of college, many of my friends are starting grad school. The energy that I see them imbued with makes me question my decision to collect PTO days while they skinny dip in the Fountain of Youth. Their eye bags? Gone. Hair? Fuller. Skin? Clearer. Perhaps the Kardashians should enroll in an MBA/MFA joint program. 

I live a few blocks from a middle school, and while summer meant blissful quiet on my lunch runs, the chaos is now back in full swing. I usually blast a “Las Culturistas” episode to drown out the kids, but lately, I don’t mind. I thumb through old yearbooks and chuckle at how 20-something Brooklynites also don overalls and blunt bobs, like we’re in some collective effort to cosplay as our younger selves. 

2. Attend more concerts.

I just saw Charli xcx and Troye Sivan on their tour. Who knew the antidote to life’s mundanity was to stand in a crowd of Sweaty strangers? While I’ve always loved their music, hearing it live was something else entirely. I found myself questioning why it felt so much better, and then it hit me – it was the shared energy, the communal high (very “frat bro who just discovered empathy”of me, I know). In a society hell-bent on siloing us into our individualism, sporting the same shirt is harmonious, a quick gateway from I don’t know you to I love you. Maybe school uniforms were onto something.

We all share a deep-seated human fear of being alone, further magnified by the way social media stunts us under the guise of connection. Combating loneliness is hard, but embracing it is even harder. A few weeks ago, I took a last minute flight to see Taylor Swift’s Eras tour in London, because my roommate Lauren found tickets so cheap it felt criminal not to go. Am I obsessed with Taylor? Absolutely. But mostly, I just wanted to hang out with Lauren (because clearly living together isn’t enough). My abandonment issues are something to unpack with a therapist, but a concert ticket is cheaper in this economy. 

3. Get wild.

The circulation of Moo Deng, the pygmy hippo, in the zeitgeist has me thinking: capitalism truly has us in a grip. We’re so overexposed to the wheel that the sight of an animal, blissfully jobless, sloshing around, hits like a revelation about our own growth (or regression). How far have we fallen? We’re animals too, after all. Maybe it’s time to disconnect, reconnect. Skip the passive-aggressive games and go for the bite. Go barefoot (just not on the subway). Climb something – a fire escape, a Central Park tree, a boyfriend. Sleep on the ground (my Chinese grandma swears it’s great for your back). If you can’t commit to full animal, pet one. I've known my friend Charles for eight years, and the other day he cried for the first time watching a compilation of Moo Deng to the tune of Alphaville’s “Forever Young.” We need to get it together.

She agrees.

4. Make myself over.

Fall marks the season for my annual haircut. With no vacations on the horizon and my summer Insta content running dry, it’s time for a validation-seeking Menty B bangs reveal. The other day, I woke up and decided to get fall nails on a whim. Gone are summer’s butter yellow and spring’s pastel lilac; I’m wearing a deep red that whispers “Am I… better than everyone?” My summer nails adorned with tiny flowers had a work-life balance. Deep red nails are the private equity analysts of manicures: sophisticated, serious and here for the long-haul. While I’m at it, maybe I’ll finally get that tattoo I’ve been contemplating – you know, for when my bangs story disappears after 24 hours. I’ll throw up a poll: the bow or the Studio Ghibli character? Might even go Live (the attention economy demands it, not me!) 

5. Hit up strangers.

Lately, I’ve been in online exchanges with cool new people who share my interests – no mutual friends or formal introductions required. Turns out, the DMs are for platonic slide-ins too. 

Crafting the right message is a delicate art; I tread a fine line between being irresistible without intimidating, open without oversharing. We live in a world where snap judgments are made based on curated online personas. What if they hate one of my photos or a sentence I used and, by extension, me? Should I go bolder? Share more? Less? Such thoughts flit through my mind before I realize that the only person who needs to like my digital footprint is me. The pain of rejection is temporary, but the Internet? That’s forever. 

6. Do an iPhone Marie Kondo.

Speaking of digital, it’s time for our phones to have a glow-up too, starting with screenshots of books never read and Zillow homes never owned. Cancel Patreon from the “A Court of Thorns and Roses” phase and that languishing Apple TV+ subscription; we all know Ted Lasso isn’t coming back. Oh, and don’t forget the Mount Sinai app, for that one random hospital visit. Really, purge like you mean it. 

7. Share more meals.

I’ve been observing the dinner party club phenomenon sweep through NYC, and it seems like everyone’s starved for connection. These events are pervasive, selling out even. Who knew $200 for 5 courses swiped from Bon Appétit, served by a random corporate sellout moonlighting as a chef, would be a thing? And there’s always a photographer lurking to capture those candid-but-clearly-choreographed shots of true Zillennial NYC living. 

While I’ve never paid for a dinner club, I’ll admit, I get the appeal of sharing a meal with friends. Ideally, those with cozy apartments and well-stocked wine collections who can tell their Left Bank from their Right Bank. Let’s skip the small talk and dive right in: who would you save first in a fire, your mom or dad? I can’t cook – but an ear for your latest breakup saga or the fading of a best friendship – that I can provide.

In the wise words of Charli xcx, “goodbye forever brat summer.” Make way for brall!!! Did I just say that? 

8. Less brainrot.

Please. I’m begging. Seriously, who am I anymore? Negative 1000 aura points.