Hope and Determination in 2020, and The Rise of the Gen Z Kids

 Hello, 2020. For some reason, a new decade seems consequential, even though it's just a new label to organize records. At any rate, I greet this new decade with a degree more optimism than I did the last one. As 2009 turned to 2010, I held my breath, hoping the world wouldn't end in a computer-crash-like blackout (it didn't).

As it turns out, the 2010s were the era in which my generation came into its own: the Rise of the Gen Z Kids. Lightning flashes, violins screech.

 2010-2012: The Gen Z kids become self-aware
Tearful existential crises. Earthquake was a baby. I believed I was a dog whisperer. I hated piano and had a lot of friends. Pokemon. Warriors, Viva Pinata, wolves. Making videos with the cheap cameras my aunt got me for Christmas and taking full advantage of the built-in special effects on my dad's laptop. Euphoria over the first-ever out-of-uniform day at school. Coming downstairs from playing on the Warriorcat Forums on my mom's computer to find my mom making chocolate chip cookies. Horse girl era. Learning about the bubonic plague. Horse girl era ended by broken arm. Rawr XD era. Basshunter. Sitting on the inner tube on a reef off Key Largo. Swimming several times a day.

 2013-2015: The Gen Z kids become aware of their surroundings
Remington Steele. The Lord of the Rings. Fruits Basket with H, and later T. Laying in my mom's bed in the middle of the day reading Legolas fanfiction and watching My Little Pony. Pajamas. AwkwardMarina. Wanting to be able to sing.The Blergh was born! Learning how to fry an egg and feeling so smug about it that I made one every day for months. Writing the first half of stories and not knowing how to end them, writing on my dad's laptop until my eyes burned. Exaggerated angst. Captain America. Ballet? Muse. The Red Hot Chili Peppers. The Gorillaz. Death of a Bachelor.

2016-2018: The Gen Z kids interact with their surroundings
EarthyAndy. Wanting to be a rocker. Swimming in the ocean for hours, zoned out. Unprecedented, unyielding determination to succeed in school. Blue shadows and honey-yellow sunlight. Mint mimosa-scented hand sanitizer and my mom's homemade energy bars that have become a staple. Ballet! Weekends spent on nothing but APUSH homework. Moments of utter joy playing music(no longer hate piano). Obligatory annual boy crises. The Tower of Textbooks on the dining room table.

 2019: It's too soon to condense into Gen-Z generalizations.
January
Flurry of activity, dry skin, my dog is eating tinsel again(this didn't happen in Jan 2019. I wrote this in real time as I heard something weird, walked out of my room at 10:45 at night and found Earthquake, who DOESN'T EVEN EAT DOG FOOD HALF THE TIME, with his FACE IN THE TINSEL for the SECOND TIME what the HECK).

 February
Loneliness. Lack of sleep. Running out of room in my planner. The scent of sawdust.

March
Naps in the car. Doing makeup in a hotel room.

April
Saturdays in the ballet studio. Prokofiev. Crumbly chocolate granola bars. Baking every Friday.

May
Yoga. Conversations at the cold white intern desk at Space Coast Magazines. Chlorine. Hair spray.

June
Mini pizzas. Talisman variation. Slab of banana cake my mom and aunt brought home one day.

July
Pacing while reading. Sitting outside on the pool deck for as many hours of the day as possible. The West Wing.

August
Stress that manifests as tight shoulders. The week where I ate smoothie bowls with homemade granola every day for breakfast because I thought Hurricane Dorian was gonna take out the power and I didn't want all my frozen fruit to melt. Kathryn Morgan barre videos.

September Les Miserables (September is a strange time of year. It's not summer, nor is it yet fall. Everyone is confused most of the time about most things).

October
Mint chocolate. Too much to do. That beautiful day in which I had dance rehearsal all day, then the impromptu trip to the fair with A, then when we came home my mom gave us hot fudge sauce- that was such a nice day. Rain.

November
Frustration. Sleepovers. Physics.

December
Hours spent reading. Chills of fear and pounding heart from In Cold Blood. The colored lights in my bedroom against my wall and the throw rug my sister crocheted.

2020: What will the Gen Z kids do next?
I'm trying to live in the moment and savor each day instead of always thinking about what's next, but try telling someone in their last semester of high school not to speculate over the future.

Whoops, I left the "tagged" icon on this picture when I
screenshotted it from Instagram. Does that bother you?
It bothers me. 

In just the first five days of 2020, I've spent hours laughing with new and old friends. I did a face mask with said friends that hurt so much when we took it off that two of us were practically bawling. I've almost finished a thick book. I've drawn, cleaned out closets, slept and stretched a lot. And I'm just getting started.

2020's going to be wild. I'm imbuing it with hope and determination: that I will dance again, soon. That I will merge what I've learned in high school with what I learn in whatever collegiate path I choose. That I will keep my dearest friends dear and forge new friendships, too. Hope that I used the word "imbue" right, and determination that SOMEONE will READ my STUPID LITTLE BLOG because I'm not stopping any time soon.

World peace and love,

Heather <3