
Goodbye 2022
- Notes
May you burn in hell forever.
But also, not really because 2022 wasn’t that bad of a year. Here’s to an even better 2023. 🍻
Happy New Year everyone!

May you burn in hell forever.
But also, not really because 2022 wasn’t that bad of a year. Here’s to an even better 2023. 🍻
Happy New Year everyone!
I love music (who doesn’t?), and in America, you show how much you love something by how much you paid for it, so how much did I spend on music this year?!
I spent $937.22 on music this year. Is that a lot? I feel like that’s a lot. That’s an average of $78.10 a month, which, yeah, feels about right. That’s also about 93 to 94 albums in a year, or about 7 to 8 new albums a month, which, yeah, also sounds about right. I think one of the main questions some people will have is: why not subscribe to Spotify or Apple Music or another streaming music service? And my answer to that is:
Fuuuuuuuuuuuck streaming music services. Fuck them all to hell.
I used to subscribe to Apple Music. For a few years, actually. I paid for their $99 annual plan, which came out to $8.25 a month. For $8.25 a month, I could listen to all the music I wanted. It was great! I listened to everything, and I discovered many great new artists. All in all, I had a great time with Apple Music… until I canceled it during one fire season. I had plans to renew it later, but I wouldn’t need it during fire season because I would be in the mountains where service was spotty and where I wouldn’t really have the time or the energy to listen to music anyway. And when I canceled it, I saw the last few years’ worth of music—music I’ve spent time listening to and curating and rating—vanish. Of course it vanished, but I still felt like a big part of me just died. All my new artists, all my playlists, all the work I did to curate my library to my tastes—all gone. So what did I actually pay for? All those hundreds of dollars?
For limited access to an infinite number of songs. I was renting this music—it wasn’t mine. And right then it hit me:
Fuuuuuuuuuuuck streaming music services. Fuck them all to hell.
The only music left in my music app was all the music I purchased before I subscribed to Apple Music, before I spent hundreds of dollars on… honestly? Nothing. It’s like spending $20 for a movie ticket—the cost is in the experience, and for $99 a year, I was allowed access to this musical experience for a limited time, and if I wanted continued access to it, I would have to spend more and more of my money. I would have rather spent that money on buying my music—for sure, far fewer albums than before, but at least I would own them.
And so, that’s why I’ve spent $937.22 on music this year, and why I will continue to spend more than $99 a year on music, more than $8.25 or $9.99 a month on music. Besides, the artists making this music deserve to get paid, and they get paid more when I buy their music directly rather than if I streamed it.
Do I recommend you buy your music, too? I don’t care. If you want, I guess. If you’re happy renting your music from these big companies, then more power to you. For me, though, I’m just fine spending almost $1,000 a year on music, and I will continue doing so for as long as I have money to spend.

I read 10 books this year, the fewest number of books I’ve read in a year since I began to log them back in 2010. Why did I read so few books this year? Because I tried something new: I began to use my notebooks as a commonplace book.
Whenever I underlined a valuable passage in a book, I would spend the time to copy it down into my notebook and then add my comments to it. I loved this exercise a lot, but this exercise took up huge chunks of my time, time not spent reading. Additionally, I found myself not reading sometimes because I either had a backlog of passages to copy down or I didn’t feel like giving myself more work to do by reading and underlining more. Over time, though, as this habit became more ingrained, I found that the way I read changed. Since I knew I was going to comment on these passages in my notebook, what I underlined started to change. These passages weaved themselves into the larger narrative of my life, a narrative I’ve been writing in my journals within the same notebook.
My favorite book of the year was Emerson: The Mind on Fire by Robert D. Richardson Jr. I’ve admired Emerson for years, mostly from afar, and primarily through a small handful of his essays. Reading this biography clarified who he was to me, and who he was was an amazing person. A big reason why I read so few books this year was because of this book—I swear, I underlined half the book, and it took me months to both read the book and to transcribe all the notes I underlined into my notebooks.
My other favorites were The Places That Scare You by Pema Chödrön and Four Thousand Weeks by Oliver Burkeman. Both helped me see the structure of my life in a new way. I tried to live a better life this year, and even though I feel like I failed in many ways, I am starting to see the light seeping through the clouds with the promise of a new day just ahead of me, and I have these books (and my notes on them) to help me.
The Plague by Albert Camus was my favorite novel of the year. The others I read were fun but they didn’t compare to The Plague. I hope to read more Albert Camus books in the future.
I don’t know how many books I will read in 2023, but what this year taught me is that if I focus on the quality of my reading, the quantity doesn’t matter.
Today was supposed to be the last day of school before the holiday break, but:
School was canceled yesterday and today because of this really really cold winter storm affecting “a broad swath of the country.”
When the high for today is -8°F and the National Weather Service is warning us that there’s a “possible threat to life or property,” you better believe I’m staying inside, blasting my heater, and snuggling underneath a warm blanket.
These old bones miss sunny San Diego. Be safe everyone!
Here’s an end-of-year recap I’m totally down for:
Some highlights I love:
I’d much rather see people’s MLB.TV recaps than those Spotify or Apple Music ones.
Small update to note a new lowest heart rate. I want to link back to this later if I ever go lower than this, but if I do, I might be dead, so I won’t get that chance. C’est la vie.
Because my health is on my mind:
My heart rate hit 35bpm again last night.
This morning I woke up to 11—eleven!—low heart rate notifications. For context, yesterday I wrote that I had 12 all week.
Back when my friend first challenged me to a competition, I was worried, not that I might lose but that I wouldn’t be able to stick to any sort of fitness regiment again. I have had back issues for a few years, so I’ve been “taking it easy” for a while. A while means years. So I’m happy I could still push myself hard and have my body respond better than I had expected.
A few weeks ago, I texted my friend and said, “Thanks for pushing me out of my comfort zone! I was living on auto-pilot for a while and I needed this kick in the ass.”
I really did, and now I feel great.
It’s the holiday season, and a friend of mine gave me this delicious loaf of bread yesterday. She called it “friendship bread,” something I wasn’t aware was a thing. She gave one to another friend along with mine, and my other friend later told me that it was related to the Amish. So I looked it up, and yeah, it’s a thing. Huh. Did I say it was delicious? Because it was delicious.
Here are some notes from today, this 16th day of December, 2022:
On Wednesday, I beat my friend in yet another 7-day competition. This was our second straight competition, and my second straight victory. That’s 2-0. You know what she did the next day?
Challenged me to another competition. “I’m taking it this week 😂,” she said.
“This crown on my head is getting really heavy,” I replied.
“🖕🏼.”
“🤣.”
Because of these competitions, I’ve been pushing myself really hard, harder than I have in… shit… years? And my metrics don’t lie. For the past 17 days, I’ve been burning more calories than I had for the few weeks before. That’s on account of the fact I’ve been working out almost on a daily basis. I took off last weekend, though, and guess what? I was kinda miserable because I wanted to workout but I knew my aging boding needed rest. You best believe, though, that on Monday I was so happy to be working out again.
And I feel gooooooood.
And that’s where my 12 (!!!) low heart rate notifications from the last week come in. Before this week, my lowest recorded resting heart rate was 36bpm. I can now say 35bpm is my lowest. I hit that last night. The lowest threshold you can set the Apple Watch to trigger low heart rate notifications is 40bpm, and I triggered all of these notifications while asleep, so I’m not too worried about my heart and what these low averages might mean for my heart health. In fact, I believe my heart is healthy and strong, and I just take these metrics as proof that I’m on the right track.
I feel good, I’m eating well, I’m working out hard, and I’m sleeping really well. Because of this, I feel happy and feeling happy makes me happy.
Speaking of friends and feeling happy:

My good friend Cherish Chen is the writer of Radiant Red, and the trade paperback collecting the first 5 issues of her book came out this week. I am so very proud of her! If you’re looking for some fun comics made by some good people, then go buy it and support good comics!
Received a new book haul today:

Y ahora, a leer.
Alden Gonzalez, writing for ESPN (paywall):
From the start of Monday to the end of Wednesday, 20 major league free agents agreed to contracts totaling nearly $1.6 billion. The vast majority did so while outshooting their projections. And if there was one phrase that could encapsulate the week’s event, it was that one – muttered so often by front-office members, agents, scouts, coaches and media members that it might as well have been part of the branding. The winter meetings, presented by Holy S—.
One of the topics I’ve stayed away from on my website is sports. Why? This idiotic idea that I might alienate people with it. But sports has been such a big part of my life this year that I can’t not write about it anymore.
I’m from San Diego. Born and raised. My team is the San Diego Padres. They’ve been my team since my childhood, since I went to my first baseball game in ‘96 and saw Ken Caminiti hit a home run, since I saw them make it to the World Series in ‘98 (and get swept by those damn Yankees), since I saw Tony Gwynn get his 3,000th hit. They’re my team, and oh my goodness, wasn’t this year so damn special? First, we signed Juan Soto, Josh Hader, Josh Bell, and Brandon Drury, then we lost Tatis Jr. to a stupid PED suspension, then we beat the Mets and the Dodgers to make it to the NLCS.
And now we’ve signed Xander fucking Bogaerts. These aren’t my childhood Dads. If I had children, these would be their Dads, and that’s amazing.
$1.6 billion, $280 million to sign Bogaerts. Wow.
The Padres began the week with a payroll that was already projected to surpass $200 million and stood dangerously close to exceeding MLB’s luxury-tax threshold for a third consecutive year. (“Where are they getting all this money?” one agent asked.) Then they pursued Turner aggressively, made a late – and highly competitive – offer to Judge and blew past the Red Sox for Bogaerts, who will join a dynamic lineup featuring Juan Soto, Manny Machado, Jake Cronenworth and, eventually, Fernando Tatis Jr. Bogaerts is an imperfect fit, no doubt, but the Padres believe they have the roster versatility and the payroll flexibility to make it work.
“Where are they getting all this money?” Peter Seidler and his ownership group is treating this team like the investment it is. During Bogaerts welcome ceremony in San Diego, Peter said,
I’m financially trained, I have a budget in mind up there somewhere, and I think budgets get better when you win world championships.
San Diego has never won a major sports world championship. I think if they win one, they will have all the money they need to make up for these signings and more.
Let’s Fucking Go San Diego!
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