2025, a reflection.

2025 was all over the place: a swinging pendulum of late nights and early mornings, the comfort and monotony of settling into a life. It was vacillating between work fulfillment and restlessness, leaving one job, starting another. It was a cold winter weekend in Boston, warm spring in Austin, paradise summer in LA, and crisp autumn in New York. There were memorable birthdays and bike rides, a lot of Monday ocean dips and wine at the beach. Morning runs, evening walks, solo dinners. 

A lot of loneliness and growing pains; a lot of friendship, too. I read fewer books than last year, but wrote a little more. Made a few really good soups (and some subpar ones), got a kitten that saved my life and broke me open (in a good way), and learned to be ok with solitude again (sort of). In short, this year was a kick in the teeth and also some of the most fun I’ve ever had. More-so than usual, I’m ready for whatever’s next.

xo,

L

FAVORITES OF 2025

ALBUMS (+ favorite track)

Bloodless - Samia (North Poles)

On first listen through, this record made me feel similarly to when I first heard The Baby— months later, it still does. A little brighter, it’s imbued with the kind of wisdom that only comes from growing up, which is probably why I clung to it so tightly. The chorus of ‘North Poles’ still ruins me. “When you see yourself in someone, how can you look at them?”

American Recordings - Truman Sinclair (Chicago Flood)

A record released on my favorite holiday (Valentines), I’d been anticipating this one for awhile. While ‘Pale Horse’ has yet to be contended with, these songs satisfied the part of me that really misses Pinegrove, and also another part of me that romanticizes the middle of nowhere.

Snocaps - Snocaps (I Don’t Want To)

Another Waxahatchee side project released right on time for me, just before I spent a weekend in New York in November. It’s got that signature Crutchfield wordiness that gives a passing thought meaning, and met me in the midst of a rough go. “Am I healing in the shade?”

SONGS

Dancing in the Club - This is Lorelai (MJ Lenderman version)

This one was on repeat more than any other— on neighborhood walks, planes, car rides. “A loser never wins, and I’m a loser, always been.” Somehow that line, low as it goes, seems to pick me up off the ground.

Sue Me - Audrey Hobert

The clear hit off of a really fun record I kept returning to this year. It doesn’t get any more plainly human than, “sue me I wanna be wanted.” It feels like both an excuse and an explanation for questionable behavior, and this year I felt the weight of that from both sides.

Silent Acknowledgement - Darryl Rahn

I first heard this one coming from a small speaker in the kitchen of a friend’s LA apartment. I like that feeling, when you just have to know what song is playing. Lyrically, it’s as introspective as it gets, and matched my headspace for most of this summer and fall.

Delete Ya - Djo

Sonically, this single embodied everything I love about carefree springtime, and it seemed like most people in my orbit felt that way too. A lot of anguish embedded in a fun windows-down guitar riff somehow makes so much sense.

Cinder Block - Samia

The song I fixated on the most this year, when it met me in a big moment of change. No chorus, just verses with short refrains, poetry as a song that was with me when I needed it, specifically this bit:

If I got what I wanted
Would I want the thing I got?
Make a mess or make a difference
But that's asking for a lot

BOOKS

My Friends - Fredrik Backman

A book about friendship; there aren’t enough of them, but this one was damn near perfect. “But how do I explain that I’m freezing to death if I’m not seen by you?”

Spectactular Things - Beck Dorey-Stein

A book about sisters, soccer, and deep sacrifice. Not necessarily a deeply relatable mix for me at first glance, but the words brought to life how scary and true it is to deeply want something, and also how brave it is to give that thing up.

Atmosphere - Taylor Jenkins Reid

Not what I expected, a book about astronauts. But it had me ugly crying in the end, in fits of sadness and relief.