I may be four years late, but I finally made it. I’m on TikTok. And I hate to say it but… I like it.
Here at Nebo, we love any excuse to go hard for a holiday — big or small.
On Pi Day, we give out a grand prize for whoever can recite the most digits of Pi by memory. Neboween is a weeklong celebration of games and over-the-top costumes. Thanksgiving is a two-part affair (Thanksgiving Lunch, followed by Leftovers-giving). Even National Ferret Day gets its very own Zoom background.
There was a distinct moment when I decided I would no longer try to hide or tiptoe around being gay (although tiptoeing would have been one of many things giving me away). It was my prom night. The year was 2004, and I was a lanky seventeen-year-old. A guy I didn’t know asked me: “Are you gay?”
Working remotely has its perks, but there are some experiences that just aren’t the same over Zoom. We’ve faithfully practiced even the smallest traditions to get the most out of our human-centered culture through a two-year global pandemic, like terribly singing Happy Birthday together at every Beer Friday meeting. Still, there’s no substitute gathering and there’s certainly no way to create a virtual version of our (infamous) annual holiday party.
For no real reason at all, I’ve always avoided Chardonnay. Something about it just feels so nineties, so Girls Night Out, and not in the nostalgic Sex and the City reboot way.
In short, Chardonnay feels passé.
But a few weeks ago, with the Pinot Grigio out at the bar, I ordered a glass of Chardonnay — and to my surprise, I enjoyed it. It was crisp, refreshing and just slightly fruity. I found myself asking: do I like Chardonnay??? And why is this wine so divisive among my millennial friends?
My mother woke me up for Diwali before the sun rose.
I prayed while wearing the salwar kameez my grandmother couriered from India. My mother lit the incense sticks as my father offered delicacies to the murtis (statues of our many Hindu Gods). Together, we devoured the sweet gulab jamun. After our morning celebration, I refused to change out of my traditional garb. Eventually, my parents gave in and drove me to my elementary school.