I promised myself I’d write an essay about 2017. It was a personally traumatic year for me—involving a broken jaw, a sick grandparent, a breakup, and an endlessly trying professional situation — that was compounded by the national political and cultural climate. The macro shifts and dramas in America have felt more dense and interrelated with what is happening in my own life more than they ever have previously, and in the long, quiet drives I’ve made monthly between Cleveland and D.C., I’ve composed in my head gorgeous paragraphs: about love and loss and interdependence and how it couldn’t hurt me that in the mid-2000s, Jesse Lacey groomed and preyed on young Brand New fans, because I had leveled with the ugliness and violence belied by “Me vs. Maradona vs. Elvis” in high school.
And yet, the essay I promised myself is one I’m not sure I can write yet. Everything that broke for me this year showed me that I haven’t processed even older traumas. The fallout of the Weinstein allegations, and the commentary surrounding them, has left me conflicted over what I’ve experienced in intimate relationships and the many places in which I’ve worked. And I’ve taken too personally too many times the occasional flare-up of infighting over urban policy, whether online or in real life, because I take the mission of my work—getting people to ride bikes for transportation—too seriously.
Instead, the things I bought and consumed are the most functional structure I can use to frame a year that felt as if it had very little holding it up. Our stuff tells our stories, especially as we march through an endless capitalistic hellscape, and I’ve found that reading product roundups makes me as relaxed as I think I’ll ever get. I put my own on Twitter the other night, which reminded me that I had also made a good-faith effort to track the media I read, saw, watched, or listened to in 2017.
Here’s the most thorough accounting I can piece together of my year via material goods, purchases, objects, other consumables, and—in general—stuff.
What I Read
I read 58 books this year. That includes any textbooks that I read in full for my graduate program and a handful of comic books and chapbooks. My goal was 52 books; I’m a fast reader, and it’s an embarrassment that I haven’t read a book per week every year. I didn’t enjoy much fiction, with the exception of The Sellout and Night Film. I tackled The Rise And Fall Of American Growth. I’m so glad The Color Of Law exists. I reference The Invention Of Brownstone Brooklyn almost every time I talk about neighborhood politics. Trouble Boys, Bob Mehr’s beautiful and exhaustively researched telling of the Replacements, was my most favorite thing I read this year.
I started throwing what I read online into Twitter threads, generally on a Friday or Saturday but without any consistency. A friend described this as “being assigned the most wonderful homework ever by a manic pixie dream professor.” Here are the ones I can find: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.
What I Listened To
Every year, I collect songs that have an important, soundtrack-esque role in my life into a playlist. It’s a fun project to organize them into something listenable at the end of the year. I’ve been doing this since 2010, initially posting downloadable Mediafire links on Tumblr, then moving to Spotify. I could write an overwrought essay about what moments I associate with each song on each playlist, but I’ll spare you. Here is this year’s—and, for posterity, 2016 (plus, a thread), 2015, 2014, 2013, 2012, 2011, and 2010. I ended 2016 and began 2017 listening heavily to Ragnar Kjartansson’s The Visitors.
I accepted that Spotify’s algorithms are a good way to discover new music, and began putting tracks I liked into quarterly mixes (Q1, Q2, Q3, and Q4). I also kept a playlist for full albums that I enjoyed (here’s the same from 2016 and 2015). There were so many albums this year! The standout 2017 releases for me were Oso Oso’s Yunahon Mixtape, Sorority Noise’s You’re Not As ______ As You Think, Rainer Maria’s self-titled album, Partner’s In Search Of Lost Time, the new Brand New (despite the many moral conflicts that accompany admitting that), Iron Chic’s You Can’t Stay Here, and Prawn’s Run. The Menzinger’s After the Party was my ultimate: It’s the album I cried to in my car more times than I’d like to admit.
Until I realized, midway through the year, that my 12-mile roundtrip bike commute is a great opportunity to listen to podcasts, I didn’t listen to very many regularly. (Around the same time, I broke my jaw and started driving back to D.C. monthly to see my doctor. Six hours in the car is also prime podcast time, until you lose your tolerance for Podcast Voice.) I’ve listened to 99 Percent Invisible since its inception, and This American Life for nearly as long, but added Reply All, On the Media, and It’s Been a Minute With Sam Sanders to my regular rotation. Reveal is my favorite for its depth and range of reporting.
What I Bought That I Liked
- Horrendously ugly Gucci-knockoff furry horsebit mules from Target, which I use as house shoes
- An EZPass, as much as I hate to admit it
- A bunch of nice-looking storage baskets, which I use to stash quilts in my living room and as laundry hampers and as miscellaneous catch-alls, plus this inoffensive shoe rack—look, I love organizing
- A Shark Navigator vacuum, which you can buy refurbished!
- Two sets of cute and soft printed sheets, which made my eventual move into the guest bedroom a tiny bit less depressing; Target is the best for sheets, though things sell out quick
- On trips to Party Source in northern Kentucky, because Ohio has state liquor stores: the big bottle of Campari, Bruto Americano, and Caffe Amaro
- Hungryroot has helped me improve my management over my disordered eating by about 70 percent, and I feel so seriously about this that I am putting a referral link here; Soylent, which is less sugary than Ensure, and Daily Harvest meals saved me when I broke my jaw, and I still mix them into what I eat weekly
- My mom bought me a Waterpik, which would have improved my quality of life even if I didn’t have tooth issues (mine is the kids’ version…)
- Salux towels and Dr. Teal’s have replaced my fancy body wash preferences
- The Outdoor Research Cathode jacket, which is light enough that I don’t sweat like crazy when I layer but absolutely water- and windproof, has greatly improved my winter riding experience, as has this silk pointelle long underwear, which is more comfortable than the merino baselayer I’ve worn for the past few years
- Velvet track pants, and Outdoor Voices’ track pants
- Leggings with pockets!
- I got a pair of Swedish Hasbeens for $150, somehow, and I’ve nearly worn them into the ground (when forced to replace them, I will likely go for these Danskos, which I tried on and liked)
- Leather gloves with the fingertips that work on phone screens, so that I could properly join the 21st century
- Bible highlighters are a godsend for me, a person who cannot read a book without marking it up
- I use TeuxDeux and Google Calendar religiously for personal calendaring and project management, and I just-as-religiously copy my plans onto this paper desk calendar
- These earbuds sound great for their price, and because they come with a case I haven’t yet lost them or their nubs
- I manage to destroy two or three of these watches per year, but I keep buying them
- A 25-pound kettlebell, plus assorted dumbbells, so that I don’t skip kettlebell swings and weighted squats on days I don’t make it to the gym
- My cat loves these krill chews, which have helped his allergies and skin issues tremendously and which have, I believe, made him softer
Some of the above are repeats from this thread, and some are things I forgot.
What I Put On My Face
Skincare has been a whole fucking thing for me for a long time. I’m glad it’s is trendy now, so that I come off as less insane when I say that it takes me 20 minutes to wash my face. I don’t have a set lineup of products, and this year I tried a lot, including serums from The Ordinary and Glossier. There are none that I would rave about, except for The Ordinary’s Buffet. The Ordinary’s hyaluronic acid is also the cheapest I’ve found. I tried Drunk Elephant’s sunscreen and liked it, but will likely go back to Dermalogica’s Pure Light.
I think Curology is a cool service, and their formulation works better for me than combining any of The Ordinary’s products. Instead of throwing more money at Drunk Elephant, I just bought some marula oil. When Birchbox stopped stocking my beloved Juice Beauty green apple peel, I bought Ole Henriksen’s lemon peel; it’s a close second. I use Neogen’s bio-peel pads when I am too lazy to double-cleanse at night. Korres’ wild rose exfoliating cleanser is gentler than Mario Badescu’s strawberry face scrub, my longtime favorite. I also employed Mario Badescu’s anti-acne serum during a particularly ugly breakout.
Surprises that I discovered via Birchbox and Petit Vour that I will likely purchase in the future include Evo’s Mane Tamer; Sunday Riley’s Tidal moisturizer; Soapwalla’s The Balm; and Ouai’s hair and body oil. I also loved Glossier’s You fragrance.
I continued to use my all-star favorites: Crude’s cleansing oil, witch hazel toner, 10 percent benzoyl peroxide, 100% Pure’s coffee bean caffeine eye cream, retinol cream, and Oz Naturals’ Vitamin C serum. Now that it’s winter, I am throwing Weleda’s Skin Food on my face every few hours. Origins’ Night-A-Mins is still my preferred night cream, and I use Nivea Creme (the German stuff) for extra overnight moisture. It’s also a great body lotion.
I don’t wear much makeup, but Arrow’s waterproof mascara is the only full-size mascara I’ve ever bought, and I love Han’s lip and cheek tint. I was wearing Trestique’s chile red lip crayon often, but will probably stay away from lipstick until my braces are off.
Misc.
I didn’t travel much, but I remember most fondly from 2017 instances in which I was alone in new cities—Charlottesville and Columbus—staying in Airbnbs. I like to bring my bike and a book and go to art museums and eat at restaurants that I think are interesting and not talk to anyone, and I’m grateful for the opportunities I’ve had to do that. I also enjoyed the Strong Towns conference in Tulsa, which has some wonderful buildings; a brief stay in Buffalo; eating and drinking in Pittsburgh; and a couple weekend trips to Cincinnati.
In Cleveland, I ended up in an incidentally great book club that’s read Charles Chestnutt’s The Marrow Of Tradition, Little Fires Everywhere, and Black Reconstruction in America. I started grad school and, so far, have plenty of ire toward, but no regrets about, enrolling in American University’s online master of public administration and policy. I saw Kusama at the Hirshhorn and more shows than in recent years, including Lvl Up at Mahall’s, Tigers Jaw and Iron Chic at Grog Shop, PJ Harvey at Wolf Trap, Wolf Parade at House Of Blues, Lucero at the Beachland, the Hotelier at the Foundry. Get Out is the only movie I’ve seen twice as an adult.
At the very end of the year, I had the super-fun experience of debating historic preservation at Turncoats in D.C., and got started on filling in my upper left arm. I have many dumb tattoos that don’t mean anything, but I’ve wanted a rendering of one of Harry Clarke’s illustrations for Faust for years now. I love how it turned out. I ended the year in New York, and I’m glad for that.
What I Wrote
Not much, but for other people: Why Are We Such Cold-Weather Wussies? All transit riders have a choice. Housing First (on Akron’s new-ish housing white paper). Course Correct (on why the gentrification discourse in Cleveland isn’t productive).
While I was briefly trying to blog: How Affordable Housing Is Like My Skincare Routine. Emotional Labor and Working In Cleveland, OH — A Garble.
And on here: Against Corporate Urbanism In the Heartland.
In 2018, I hope, as always, to do better.
