Tag: family

A Quarter Of A Century Around The Sun

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The best part about having a summer birthday is being able to spend it by some body of water, enjoying the sunshine and beautiful summer weather.

The worst part about having a summer birthday (in the realm of first world problems) is that no one is ever around for the summer, making it difficult to actually have any company around said body of water to enjoy the sunshine with.

But a few of my friends would still be in the city for my birthday this year, so I planned to get a girl gang together to spend the day at Long Beach.

The vision

It would be a “hot girl summer birthday,” as Megan Thee Stallion would probably put it. Me and my friends would be soaking up sun and saltwater, lounging on a clean, pristine beach, while fantasizing that we were in San Tropez instead.

The plan was to make a pitcher of sangria in a half-gallon reusable water bottle and distribute it using mason jars. We would get lunch from one of the fabulous dining establishments that lead up to the beach, and at the end of the afternoon we would walk down the boardwalk for soft serve ice cream, covered in artificially-colored, confectioned sugar, and swirled prettily in waffle cones. We would have the makings of a perfect beach day, having everything but tiny paper umbrellas to stick in our drinks. 

There were several issues with this plan.

First: no alcohol was allowed on the beach.

Second: no glass was allowed on the beach.

Third: it was raining on the beach.

My hot girl summer birthday party was off to a rocky start.

The backup plan was to go to a karaoke bar, get a private room, and scream-sing angry girl music from the 90s while downing a pitcher of margaritas. Once it was obvious that it was going to rain all day, that was the plan we stuck with.

We decided to brave the storm at RPM Underground, a basement-like karaoke bar in Hell’s Kitchen that looks how I imagined it would if a bomb shelter had neon lights. 

My friends arrived one at a time, wind-blown and damp, but ready to sing. 

If the experience taught me anything, it’s that karaoke is one of the best ways to spend a rainy day and one of the best ways to spend a birthday.

RPM Underground didn’t have a pitcher of margaritas, but they did have a bucket of soju and there was plenty of angry girl music to go around.

My go-to karaoke song is “Bitch” by Meredith Brooks, the perfect song to let off steam as a woman. There was also Avril Lavigne, Alanis Morrisette, Taylor Swift, Pierce the Veil, Sade, Chappell Roan, and, at one point, Megan Thee Stallion. Singing in front of other people will make you realize just how talented those artists are.

Everyone had different taste in music, but we could all enjoy an off-key rendition of “Hot n Cold” by Katy Perry. We bopped around the room singing as poorly as we wished, downing the fruity bottles of soju, which are deceptively alcoholic. 

Once the party started to wind down, we cut the cake. I ordered a lavender chocolate mousse cake that I got custom-made with a fun inscription. 

We left the karaoke place after our two hours were up, full of chocolate cake and Korean alcohol, with our voices shot, but having had a fun time. This birthday party was one for the books, since it was spent in good company, cheering our drinks and serenading each other.

The smoothest karaoke song of the night

Once my birthday was behind me, I was ready to feel the lobotomy that apparently happens when you turn 25. Your prefrontal cortex is finished developing and finally you have common sense, or so I am told. 

Unless I am imagining it, I thought that I could feel the chemical change that my brain underwent. In some ways, it was like completing a level in a video game or taking a hit of someone’s ADHD medication: you’re locked in like never before.

Turning one year older feels strange when you’re concerned about the state of the world and I am more concerned with the state of the world than ever before, which is saying something. It makes it hard to understand my future and for the first time in my life, it felt like I couldn’t see my future all that clearly. 

I still don’t know what to make of this other than the fact that this might just be a part of what it means to be 25. 

No matter what, I intend to be hopeful as I enter into my 25th year. Everyone that I have spoken to about it has said that 25 is a great age. You’re close to 20 and you’re close to 30, with a quarter of a century lived, and hopefully, at least two more quarter centuries yet to live. The important thing to remember is that at 25, you’re still just starting out. There is still plenty of time for mistakes, new beginnings, career changes, breakups, breakdowns, and other epic highs and lows. 

And hopefully, many happy returns. 

Thank you to all of my friends who showed up for my birthday and made it truly special! And to everyone else who has a summer birthday like me: happy birthday!

The Tragic Queen,

Raquel

P.S.: Check out my most recent blog post about how I did spend the day at the beach when the weather was permitting. 

Columbia University Graduation

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It’s official: I have graduated from Columbia University! 

My friends and I sat outside in our full regalia in 90 degree heat— meaning that we earned our degrees and then some. Everyone was sufficiently irritable by the time that our group was called, but happy, nonetheless with our accomplishment. 

We sat around in this apocalyptically warm weather, listening to existential speeches on the dangers and trappings of AI all while celebrating the creation of art in troubling times. 

My friends and I sat in the tiny but mighty writing section, shaking our tambourines. Every school was given a prop; ours were tambourines for reasons that would soon become obvious. 

Official picture from Columbia’s instagram page. Note how I am the only one not looking

The highlight of the ceremony was John Baptiste’s surprise musical performance. As an honorary doctorate of the School of the Arts, Baptiste stopped by on his way to the final taping of Late Show with Stephen Colbert to treat us to his musical stylings.

He sat down at the piano, opening with Für Elise before moving on to a truly modern rendition of “if you’re happy and you know it” to which the writing section got to shake their tambourines. His fingers fluttered over the keys like it was nothing, while singing effortlessly, like he was just opening his mouth and pouring out beautiful music.

That night, we had a separate graduation ceremony for the School of the Arts in which me and a few of my friends walked across the stage and accepted empty envelopes for diplomas that will be arriving in the mail in the coming weeks. 

One professor semi-praised AI in his speech and was promptly shouted down (praising AI to a group of students who just went into hundreds of thousands of debt for a job in an industry that will probably no longer exist in a few years during one of the worst job markets in recent history seems like peak tone-deafness to me).

I had a fun time as I celebrated the last graduation of my life (though I would not turn down an honorary doctorate one day). 

My time at Columbia was extraordinary. I met some pretty amazing writers, and with that, some pretty cool people, but most importantly, my writing has been shaped and sharpened, more than I ever thought possible. Sitting there, in the blistering heat, I thought about all of the work that I put into it, how I hardly slept as I rushed to finish submissions, gave and received feedback on novels, and read all kinds of fiction.

Regardless of what the future holds in terms of AI and other existential threats, I will keep writing.

A shoe change happened

Now I am on to the next thing, like working to finish and sell my debut novel.

I am a lion. Hear me roar!

The Tragic Queen,

Raquel

P.S.: Check out my blog post on my previous college graduation

And for the lady, perhaps some recommended reading…

Going to the Zoo

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Most zoos are underwhelming and disappointing. You bake in the heat, walking around a heat-baked, concrete zoo, only to see a handful of animals who look about as miserable and overheated as you do.

The Singapore Zoo is not such a zoo. The animals are actually on display, front and center, feeling close enough for you to touch them. 

At some point, everyone goes to the zoo

Unlike all of the zoos I’d been to in the past, there often was little to no barrier between the animals and the zoo patrons. This is as cool as it is terrifying. The animals are right in front of you, not hidden behind glass or cage bars. 

The tigers and lions roamed around their enclosures. The elephants sat around, their ears slapping the sides of their bodies.

I felt like a little kid again, thinking about what kind of animal I would be if I had to choose, and always picking one of the more exotic ones, like an elephant, giraffe, or a cheetah. 

You could see every type of monkey swinging in its enclosure.

Amusingly, the zoo has monkeys that are not part of the exhibits. Because the zoo backs up to a wooded area, monkeys from the jungle, but not the zoo, hang around. 

The people who work at the zoo handle this by shooing away the monkeys with the same energy that New Yorkers shoo away rats or pigeons. 

My aunt got into a fight with one such monkey who had gotten hold of a plastic bag that had been left behind by a tourist and my aunt was trying to pry it from its hands. It is hard to convey to a monkey that you are acting in its best interest by not letting it play with a torn plastic bag that it is wrapping around its head. 

Overall, we had a fun time going to the zoo. The Singapore Zoo is considered to be one of the more ethical zoos in the world due to its focus on conservation and restoration. All throughout the zoo are signs outlining the status of the animals as endangered animals on the brink of extinction and where they can be found– if they can be found– in the wild. 

The Tragic Queen,

Raquel

P.S.: Check out my previous blog post about the Singapore Botanic Garden

So This is Christmas…

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“Bah humbug”

–A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens

Usually when it’s beginning to look like Christmas, this fact brings joy. Instead, once you’re an adult– and you’re no longer waiting up at night to try and get a peek at Santa– Christmas becomes more about your dwindling bank account and the family members you still haven’t bought any gifts for. 

Cats break beloved Christmas tree ornaments. Every song on the radio is either a Christmas carol from the fifties that you’ve heard a thousand times before with dated lyrics like “take a look in the five and ten” and “children will listen” or a modern pop monstrosity that is basically Silent Night with a beat behind it. 

The instinct to just get through the season takes over. 

The moment that it’s time to buy something for my family members, they suddenly become humble beggars who couldn’t possibly ask for anything, giving me no clue as to what I should buy them for Christmas. 

In the days leading up to Christmas, I want to be cocooned in a warm house, tripping over presents in my living room and drinking out of a highball. 

Instead I find myself rushing to finish work before the year ends, putting together last minute holiday cards, sniffling through a head cold, ugly crying at It’s A Wonderful Life and The Family Stone, and then wondering how I’ll ever pay down my credit card once the holidays end. I’m like a woman in a Hallmark film who needs to be taught “the reason for the season” by a guy in a flannel shirt in my hometown. 

Then Christmas day comes and the whole thing is like a pregnancy: you forget about all of the agony that came with bringing it to fruition and the whole thing suddenly is a beautiful, life-affirming experience you would do all over again. 

For me, it’s not Christmas until Linus explains the true meaning of Christmas to me. There’s nothing like a kids Christmas special that tackles seasonal depression and commercialism, like the Charlie Brown Christmas Special does. Even if you don’t think that that is the true meaning of Christmas, I always love at the end when Linus says “peace, goodwill towards men.”

Happy holidays to this queen who insisted on getting in my selfie

In all seriousness though, I love Christmas time and I love my family, who always make it special. I sat on my couch on Christmas morning, hemmed in by a bunch of really great gifts, because I am not a humble beggar who has any problem asking for what she wants. 

So happy holidays. I hope you have peace, and goodwill towards men (and women and those outside the binary).

The Tragic Queen,

Raquel

P.S.: Check out how I kicked off the holiday season, when I went to go and see my first ever burlesque show.