2024: A recap of the past year as told by my bullet journal 🤠
It was real, it was fun, but it was not real fun.
One perk to keeping a journal is that you can return to how life once was, pouring over the details, remembering all the things that usually would’ve gotten lost amidst the day-to-day minutiae. I’ve been writing my innermost thoughts in old notebooks for over 15 years. I destroyed the first few, so ashamed of my feelings and behaviors that I wanted to rid myself of the evidence of my past transgressions. But the rest, the ones containing the words I wrote when I was in my 20s, sit on my shelves. I pick them up occasionally, flip through the pages and remember all the lives I’ve lived before. I have yet to live a year where at the tail-end of it I am left thinking, “wow, I wish I could do that all over again.”
2024 did not change this trend. It was a hard year. A year that reminded me of life’s fragility, of the smallness of my problems. A year with its fair share of grief and uncertainty. But it wasn’t all bad. Flipping through my journal helped me remember that amidst the unease, there was delight.
2024: A recap of the past year as told by my bullet journal
January:
I complete a 30 day yoga challenge with coworkers that jump starts a habit that’s been going for over a year now. I spend anywhere from 1.5 - 4 hours a day staring at my phone. BARF!
My mom sends me a heated blanket. I am initially annoyed (“mom I told you I didn’t want a heated blanket! I don’t want more things!”) but I start working from home for 60% of the week, and a polar vortex grips the nation & I realize it is in fact glorious to be comfy cozy under a warm blanket while sitting at my desk.
Ben makes the 4 hour trek down to Rochester. He spends two days going to appointments at Mayo Clinic, and leaves with a grim prognosis and the suggestion that a spinal fusion will be in his near future. My beloved internet friends buy all the toys & books from my wishlist and I spend lots of hours using them in my speech therapy sessions. 🥹🥹🥹
February:
Ben and I skip rocks along Lake Superior. We receive a large medical bill for Ben’s steroid epidural that he got in the fall of 2023, and I complete a lengthy application for financial assistance. I write a long winded argument that they should waive the $1500 they had charged for the “room fee”, apparently the price of the small space Ben occupied for less than 2 hours. I find a quote by Alan Watts that reads “Stop measuring days by degree of productivity and start experiencing them by degree of presence” and I tape it on a page of my journal next to three separate to-do lists.
Halpert has surgery to remove a mass from his neck that the vet determines is benign. He is all out of sorts after anesthesia and he ends up eating a chunk out of the carpet. I complete a journaling challenge and when prompted to write about my last happy memory I write, “I rounded the corner home while on a walk, and the sky was such a beautiful dusky menagerie of colors. It made me so happy that tears pricked the back of my eyes.” There’s a page dedicated to ‘Random Stuff To Check Out Soon’ and it includes the book Blue Sisters by Coco Mellors, the music group Khruangbin, and the series Eric on Netflix. Dear reader, I have yet to check out any item from that list.
March:
Winter begins to make its slow transition to spring, with mild days that include an abundance of time reading in the sun. The only real snowstorm that happens for the year rolls through at the end of the month, closing businesses including the center that I work at. I journal, “It is snowing & I feel 8 pounds lighter. It’s like my body is saying *finally*; my shoulders dropping & muscles unclenching. Not to be dramatic, but this snow storm is healing.”
I spontaneously cut 10-inches off my hair after getting inspo from my internet friend Cynthia. (She shared her reference photo of Zendaya she shows her hairdresser and I have been showing mine1 the same photo ever since 💁🏽♀️) I write a list of 10 things that I am grateful for RIGHT NOW that includes sea salt caramel dark chocolate, my husband, and my dogs.
There’s a photo collage of Ben & me, lyrics in the center that read, “Everywhere, everything. I wanna love you ‘til we’re food for the worms to eat, ‘til our fingers decompose I’ll keep my hand in yours.” Ben does not know Noah Kahan so when I show him, he thinks it is sweet but morbid.
On March 19th I wrote, “I am exhausted but I want to write a newsletter ASAP about life one year after stem cells.” I never write the newsletter. The trackers that I keep confirm that I spend too much time on my phone and not enough time on my habits. A list titled ‘Monday Side Quests’ is taped on an aerial photo of tropical islands clipped from a Nat Geo magazine. The list reminds me to trim the dogs’ nails and catch up on laundry and follow up on medical bills.
April:
I dedicate a page to the vibes I hope the month brings: joyful, sanguine, grateful, spontaneous, present, adventurous, confident, optimistic, and intentional. But the month doesn’t get the memo and it starts with a flat tire and a letter informing us Ben’s disability application has been denied. We hire a lawyer. I journal, “He was denied, again! I am not surprised but that does not mean that I am not gutted.” The stomach flu hits me hard and I spend the weekend on the couch watching lots of rom-coms. The month ends better than it started with a visit from Ben’s sister and brother-in-law. We spend a long weekend playing tourists, taking them to all of our favorite places in the area.
May:
I am nominated employee of the month and I cry at least twice because of the kind things my coworkers said about me. My internet friends donate money for me to purchase a Toniebox for work, and when the company finds out about it they make their own donation.
I get a new tattoo, watch Halpert eat many heads off dandelions, and try to be outside as much as possible to enjoy the nice weather. I fly to Nebraska for my younger sister’s graduation from nursing school. My dad buys me ice cream on the way home from her party, and I feel like a kid again minus the fact that I’m half-buzzed from the open bar.
Multiple flight delays result in me driving my dad’s ol’ 99 Toyota Minivan back to Minnesota, the brakes worn but the air conditioning ice cold. I roll into Duluth just after midnight, tired but wired with a cooler full of Mexican food, a silver lining to not flying. There is a letter waiting for me, a notification that our application for financial assistance was denied.
We meet Ben’s disability lawyer on Memorial Day. She listens to him detail the last few years of his life—our life—and she validates our experiences, our emotions. She tells him that he has a good case and that the biggest barrier between him and an approval is his age. We leave her office with a spark of hope and try to keep it from being extinguished by our knowledge of how backwards the system is.
June:
After many years without, we buy a grill and it is the source of many of my daily delights for the month. I spend a lot of time lounging in the hammock, often with a book in my hand. I go for twelve runs throughout the month and end most of them with a cold plunge in Lake Superior. I journal, “I can’t believe how much I’ve grown to enjoy running! I think letting go of the idea that I was running to lose weight and instead shifted to think of it as a tool to blow off steam and reconnect with myself has been a game changer.”
Summer is in full swing and the lupines start to grow in the backyard. I volunteer for a local LGTBQIA+ event one weekend and I tailgate Grandma’s Marathon the next, drinking beers while people sprint past. I contain multitudes.
I rank Emily Henry’s books on the bottom of a page (1. Beach Read 2. Book Lovers 3. People We Meet On Vacation 4. Happy Place 5. Funny Story) and next to it I write a list of ideas for newsletters that I never get around to publishing. I trade in my oil-burning Hyundai for a beautiful Subaru, dedicating an entire two pages of my journal to paraphernalia from the dealership and a long written entry where I bemoan how much my car payment has increased. I ultimately conclude that the 7.9% interest rate is worth it for the ~peace of mind~ that comes with a reliable vehicle.
July:
We are in the midst of house renovations and it feels like a construction zone exploded in my home. Ben’s bad back means projects that usually took him a few days to complete, now drag on for weeks. The garden I had planted months earlier begins to deteriorate and I journal, “I kinda wish I would’ve not wasted the time, energy, or money on having a garden. The house projects have added a layer of friction and barriers that make many activities more inconvenient, eating away any bandwidth to even think about gardening.” Ben spots a black bear in our yard and it prompts us to move the grill to the garage.
My family makes the difficult decision to euthanize Lenn, the dog we’ve had since I was 15. It wrecks me in a way I couldn't have prepared for. I find old printed photos of him, and I tape them into my journal, a safe place to hold my grief.
In the middle of the month we spot our dream place online and decide to try to buy it. The next week is a whirlwind: we meet with our old realtor who sets the pieces in motion and soon we are touring it. We put in an offer and I include a letter describing how I can envision our lives unfolding on the property. They accept it and I drive home from work, imagining shaving 30 minutes from my commute and all the writing I’d do with my newfound extra free time in the little cabin on the land. We scramble to prepare our house to sell fast. Our realtor calls us the next night and informs us that there has been a cash offer and unless we can prove that we could finance the new place without selling our current one, we are out of the equation. It is another punch to the gut. But what’s meant to be will be.
Sometime during the month, Halpert develops a limp that is so subtle at first I have to stare at him for minutes at time to even catch it. I wait a week to see if he strained something, see if it will improve on its own with time.
August:
Halpert’s limp lingers and I make an appointment. He has sedated x-rays completed and he comes back groggy with a diagnosis of mild arthritis and tendinitis. But the next day the vet calls me back, says the radiologist who read the x-ray saw signs of disc disease in his neck. I make an animal rehab appointment for him in Minneapolis and I think how ironic that both the boys I love the most in the world suffer from faulty spines.
I continue to spend too much time on my phone and I feel ashamed about it. I write a quote from Dr. Pamela Rutledge next to my screen time tracker, “Digital wellness isn’t about abstaining from technology; it’s about using it in a way that supports your well-being and enhances your life.”
My family comes to visit me, including my abuela who never takes time off from the restaurant, and we spend a weekend making memories around Duluth. My sister sleeps over one of the nights and we stay up late by the fire and she gets to witness the Northern Lights for the first time. We go on an early morning walk along the Lake the next day, and Ben & I spot a bald eagle perched on a rock on the shore up ahead. We point it out to my sister and tell her how lucky she is to witness the Northern Lights and an eagle so close all in the span of 8 hours. She’s unimpressed, hands her phone to Ben and requests a photo of her throwing up the peace sign. On the morning they leave, my abuela tells me how to make tamales, writing the ingredients in tight cursive. She prays over me like she always does anytime we go an extended time without seeing one another. Her Spanish is quick and melodic, and she moves her hands as she speaks. I think how lucky I am to have this memory, to be loved like this.
Our friends take us to Lutsen and we ride the overpriced gondolas over the trees, laughing hysterically when we realize just how petrified of heights some of us are. I write a list of things I am grateful for that includes having them in my life. Steak & cheese sandwiches from Subway also make the list.
September:
I get my teeth cleaned and buy an ice cream as a treat for having no cavities, as one does. I go camping in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan with my friend. The weather is perfect and we sleep in our hammocks. I write an essay about how reality television helped get me through some tough shit and then I never publish it2. I order ice cream at Mcdonalds and the young worker hands me a cone that’s so large it seems it might topple over. She says, “The cone was slaying so I had to keep going” before shrugging her shoulders and walking away. It makes the “Daily Delights” section for the month.
Beesly turns six and I notice she is starting to gray on her snout. I make a collage using photos from when she was a puppy. I hold back tears thinking of how time is such a thief. The next page is a shopping list and yet another to-do list half complete. I journal, “Earth to Jo! Write a new Substack soon! Even if it’s short & sweet, just publish SOMETHING!” Dear reader, you already know that did not happen.
My grandpa has surgery and struggles to recover. My mom will later tell me that there were moments she thought he wouldn’t make it, but this is information she doesn’t disclose to me until way later, when he is home and (almost) back to his old self.
October:
Halpert and I make the nearly 6 hour round trip to Minneapolis for his appointment with the specialist. I am so anxious that I only partially absorb the information the vet tells me, but what does stick is that Hal is definitely injured and it will not resolve without additional interventions. They give me a bag of syringes and directions to give Hal weekly injections until further notice.
A few days later Ben has his hearing in front of the judge. I journal, “The hearing went well, I think! I personally had to hang out in the lobby. While I was fishing candy out of the receptionist’s dish and stress eating it, Ben was with his lawyer explaining how his disability impacts his ability to work. Our lawyer said Ben did fabulous but the judge is conservative so whether or not he’ll rule in our favor will truly be 50/50. We should find out in a month or so the results.” Dear reader, we are still waiting to find out if he was approved.
I go on my first solo hike, and I question why I’d never done it before. I make salted brown butter rice crispy treats for the first time and my life will never be the same. During the last weekend of the month, I set off to run 3.1 miles in honor of turning 31 in a few days. I end up running for over 5, a personal record.
There is a page dedicated to affirmations. Another houses a list of movies I want to watch during spooky season. The next details the continuing education I completed in the month with a quote from Frank Herbert that says, “One learns from books and example only that certain things can be done. Actual learning requires that you do those things.” I am battling imposter syndrome this month once again. Learning new things helps me combat it.
November:
I turn 31 and run a 5k on my birthday to celebrate. My friends and family shower me with love and I feel full of gratitude to have made it this far, to live this life.
I visit Grand Marais for the first time, stopping to hike some trails at Tettegouche3 on the way. The weather starts to get colder and I make many batches of potato soup throughout the month.
Trump wins the election and I journal, “I am terrified by what the next presidency will bring. But I am motivated to learn and organize, to act and resist.”
I roadtrip to Nebraska where I spend my first Thanksgiving in many years with my family. I see old friends and spend so much quality time with the people that I love that reflecting back on the trip brings tears to my eyes.
I dedicate a page of my journal to a quote from Oliver Sacks that reads, “I cannot pretend I am without fear, but my predominant feeling is one of gratitude. I have loved and been loved. I have been given much and given something in return. Above all, I have been a sentient being on this beautiful planet, and that in itself has been an enormous privilege and adventure.”
December:
I return home from Nebraska and the very next day I pack Halpert into the car and we make the journey to Minneapolis, traveling through heavy snow for most of the way. A diagnostic ultrasound is performed and the vet reports Halpert has diseased tendons in his shoulders & elbows, an abundance of arthritis, and the canine equivalent of a torn rotator cuff. They recommend a weekly shockwave treatment for four weeks followed by implementing a special brace. I return to Duluth with a pit in my stomach, unsure of how we can realistically make that happen. I pick up every nursing home shift I get offered, eager to have extra money to pay off what Halpert’s pet insurance does not cover.
My nephew is born and then nearly a week later, my niece enters the world too. My mother sends me a box of Jeni’s ice cream as a Christmas gift and I shriek with joy. I impulsively delete social media apps and my brain thanks me.
There’s a Microsoft outage the week of Christmas and I thank the universe for providing me a respite from trivial work messages. We spend the holiday with our friends like we’ve done the past two years, eating good food and playing board games. It is good for the soul.
Ben and I buy the game Genius Square and we ring in the New Year playing it, sipping Hamms, and listening to comedy podcasts. The final pages of my journal features end of year statistics, lists of my favorite things, and a recipe for cheesy wild rice & mushroom soup because my journal will never not be random.
2024 was real! It was fun! But it was not real fun! I hope the next year is kinder to us all! My soft resolution for 2025 is to publish 8 newsletters, which means you will hopefully be seeing more of me in your inbox.
🥰 Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this edition of my newsletter! If you would like to support me further, may I suggest sharing Parallel Charts with a friend or on your social media platforms with the recommendation to subscribe 🥰
And if you’d like to financially support the sustainability of this little endeavor, you can do so via Venmo (username: JoVanna-Balquier) 🫶
Listen. I don’t have a hairdresser I go to regularly. I have gone twice in the past year, which is more than I’ve done in past years, and each time it was at a different Great Clips. I am who I am. But the photo works and I’ve gotten a solid hair cut every time!!
It’s titled ‘Bravo, Bravo’ and it includes a picture of Andy Cohen that I clipped from a magazine lol. ~comment below if I should post it~
I discovered that I’ve been saying the name wrong for four years. It’s teh-tuh-goosh.