36.

Hey again, blog. I’m back for another one of those narcissistically gratifying posts all about my life. Jokes aside, I’m glad I have the space to do this. I think the mind needs a dumping ground. A journal would work. But the aforementioned narcissism—and my millennial upbringing of living on the internet—tells me I need to post it online

I almost wrote a “halfway-through-2025” post in June. It was drafting itself in my head. Next thing you know, it’s the end of July and I remembered the meter is rolling over in August. Thirty-seven. I figured I’d roll the two together. Narcissism and laziness were fighting for my attention, and laziness won

As I started writing this post, I realized something dumb: I don’t do a great job of actually tracking my life. Sure, I’ve got all the little metrics—exercise, meds, hydration, the occasional weigh-in. But I couldn’t tell you what I’ve really been up to over the past year, aside from a few big-hitter moments.

It's not for lack of paying attention. I notice things. The weird sticker on the side of a trash can. The way light hits the steam rolling off a coffee cup just right. But I don’t save them.

That’s the goal for 37: pay attention and capture. So when the meter ticks over again next year, I’ll have more to reflect on than just the big moments. I’ll have neat little snippets to fill in the spaces between them. I’ll have so much stuff to write about that I'll get tired before the writing is done. I'll have to edit.

Wishful thinking, but hopefully in the best way.

All that said, I did capture some of the year. 2024 moved slower. 2025 was a freight train. Time to dive in.

My journey through 36, somewhat organized by months and with photos:

August

We moved. The rent on our old place jumped so high it basically evicted us. It was jarring at first—we’d been there for three years, and even though it wasn’t perfect, it had quietly become “home.” But we adjusted. The new place started to feel good. I found myself picking up my phone more often, snapping photos of nothing in particular. Light, corners, textures. It wasn’t for anything. I just liked it.

September

We kept settling into the new place—unpacking the last boxes, realizing we needed furniture we didn’t own, and remembering how much furniture shopping sucks. Our friend’s bachelorette party was a highlight, full of laughs and maybe one too many drinks. I was still messing around with my phone camera, taking photos of weird little things that caught my eye. At some point—honestly, the timeline’s fuzzy—I got a new 3D printer. I printed a lampshade. Goddamn technology is amazing.

October

A busy and fun month. Jana and I both love October—Halloween, fall weather, and her birthday all packed in. I made a terrible Teletubby costume with 3D-printed parts and too much makeup. Got my third tattoo. The new apartment was finally starting to feel like home.

November

With everything going on, we decided we didn’t want to wait—we were ready to get married. So we started planning. Wedding rings, a marriage license, and healthy dash of stress. We also went to a fundraiser for our friend’s organization Sustained Farms—a great night, and a good cause if you’re feeling generous. By the end of the month, the tree was up. I think we needed that bit of light.

December

December was a blur. “We’re getting married! It’s wedding day! We’re married! It’s Christmas! It’s New Year’s!” We got married on 12/12, just the two of us at the courthouse. Casual drinks after. It was perfect.

On Christmas Eve I learned how to break into old apartment doors using only a credit card, which I’m not proud of, but also kind of am. I cleaned up the storage area too, which felt like a surprisingly big accomplishment.

My mom somehow sent us a Christmas ornament with our wedding photos on it—no idea how she pulled that off so fast. Love that lady.

January

Another blur. There was just… stuff going on in the world—enough that we were mostly gritting our teeth and riding it out. We were still floating from the wedding, though. A small bubble of happiness in an otherwise uncertain time.

We went to a Chappell Roan New Year’s Eve event, which was fantastic. Beyond that? Honestly, no clue what happened. It’s like the month dissolved.

February... and on

This is where memory starts to fall apart a bit. Things got busier, blurrier, and harder to pin down. I stopped taking as many photos. The year picked up speed.

Somewhere in that mess, I got diagnosed with moderate fatty liver disease. Not exactly the kind of milestone you hope for. I had to make some big shifts—cutting back, cleaning up, paying more attention to how I treat my body. It wasn’t fun, but it was necessary.

I learned my corneas are misshapen and had to get a special contact for them, but now I can see again.

My older brother came into town. We hadn’t really talked in years, but this time we did. A real visit. He’s changed in good ways, and it was surprisingly easy to reconnect. I’m glad for that.

Back home, we kept organizing the apartment. More art on the walls. Fewer boxes in closets. Little things that made the space feel like ours.

We went to Blossoms of Light at the Denver Zoo. It was cold and bright and relaxing. I took lots of photos, they're not good, but I have them.

Pride rolled around. Always one of our favorite months. I’m getting more comfortable in my skin as a queer man, and Pride keeps feeling more like a celebration than a performance. That shift matters.

At some point I went in for a follow-up blood test. My numbers were down—liver enzymes, cholesterol, all of it. Still a ways to go, but I’m trending in the right direction. I haven’t had a drop of alcohol since March.

And now it’s July. I got a flat tire pulling onto the highway. That feels like a fitting note to end on, honestly.

Here’s to 37.