For as long as I've had money to buy things, I've loved giving gifts. I love picking out the perfect item and spending way too much money on cool wrapping paper. I love finding clever cards. I love finding things people will be surprised by or have wanted for a long time. But when it comes to buying gifts for my dad, it's always been difficult. He's both very particular (a trait I inherited) and one of those people who doesn't really need anything. Unlike my mom, for example, I can't just go to LUSH on a holiday where I'm not quite sure what to get and buy 10 bath bombs and be done with it.

While I do love a good podcast (especially if I have a long drive ahead of me, or am looking for some non-musical background noise while I work), I'm not a podcast person per se. I don't listen to all of them, or spend all my free time listening to my favorites that I missed. I have a true crime favorite (The Vanished) that I listen to every Monday at lunch, and I've listened to most of the big ones (Dirty John, Serial, S-Town, etc.), but other than that.. I am not a podcast aficionado. 

Have you ever found yourself in the middle of the English countryside, slightly tipsy from wine, sobbing hysterically, having accidentally locked yourself out of your iPhone and having to delete all 40,000 photos on your phone in order to get yourself back in? No? Just me. OK, that's fair. But that moment was, weirdly, unexpectedly the moment that defined my slightly messy April.

One of the most bizarre things about losing someone close to you is that it simultaneously touches nothing and everything. Beautiful things may seem different after, but they're still beautiful. Funny things are, horrifyingly, still funny. Joy is still out there, wrapping its fingers around all the same things it used to. When one of my best friends died suddenly in November 2017, I felt the weight of this idea instantly. Every time the grief bulldozed over me, there was also the realization that one day I would feel happy again.

March was one of the best months I've had in a long, long time. But to be honest, even coming off of a good February, this surprised me. I wasn't expecting it mainly because my 25th birthday was in March, and birthdays (especially "big" ones) always makes me kind of emotional, leaving me with a week or two of that childhood day-after-Christmas feeling. Birthdays force you to reflect on the passing of time in a very real way. Most years, I've spent the weeks after my birthday reflecting on the inevitability of not achieving certain goals. The weight I didn't lose, the workouts I missed, the money I didn't save, the trips I was supposed to plan but didn't. But this year was markedly different. I was different.