Thanks for all the lols, 2012

Holy cow, y’all. What a year. I mean really. Just a stupendous amount happened.

I started the year off in a beautiful new house, full of happiness and relief to be leaving the shittiest shithole that was ever shat in. Turns out I’ll be leaving the beautiful new house again much sooner than anticipated, but I’ll get into that later because it PERTAINS TO THE REST OF THE YEAR.

Next, I met the best person in the entire world, only I didn’t understand it right then and we wasted a bit of time “getting to know each other” and “being friends.” Pff, whatever. We’re totally shacking up together starting in February, so that’s what “taking things slow” gets you.

After/during all that, I adopted a cat, changed jobs, started actually dating previously stated love, had to give my cat away, was told our house was being sold, decided to move in with the fella, ate a lot of great food, met some great people, had some great parties, read some great books, saw a lot of movies [see “getting to know each other” and “being friends”], had some good naps.

After enjoying this year so much, I am enthusiastically looking forward to the next one, which I expect to be filled with much more of the same, only less of the “being friendly” and more of the “being in love.”

My friends had babies, got married, got engaged, got pregnant, got books published, broke up, lost family, lost friends, learned about themselves.

A million happy, sad, important little events occurred that make the time we spend here on Earth worth it. We re-elected our President! We landed a robot on Mars! We published books and learned more about our planet and inspired hundreds of thousands of people to do good things for each other simply because they should.

I love being human. I love my fellow humans. I wish all my planet-mates a safe, healthy, happy new year full of the very best ups and downs that life has to offer.

And hopefully a few more naps. One can never have too many, you know.


Thoughts on Twenty-something Singledom.

My cousin, Henry, is getting married this weekend. If his sister, Holly, marries her boyfriend after him, then we’ll be going in birth order of the cousins. First my sister, then Henry, then Holly, and that leaves me before my younger cousins, Andrew [fifteen] and William [ten]. At least I have a few years.

Anyway, this wedding has got me thinking, mostly about being the free agent in a mass of couples. It’s not as much of an enviable position as you would think, despite that they are all gracious in sharing their lives with me, and willing to include me in their day-to-day.

I don’t have a vast and sprawling group of friends, but it isn’t small, and it is certainly varied. And despite the different lives everyone is walking, I still manage to be The Single Friend [or Cousin…]. For everyone. No, really. Even if my friends are not romantically attached to each other, they are still paired off into their own functional units, whether it be with their roommates or neighbors or bff’s.

Because I am now coming to be Of An Age where it’s the natural way of my peers to pair off and settle down. Now is the time of weddings and babies and christenings. People I went to high-school with have families of their own.

So, I’m often at odds with myself. I savor my independence [such that it is owning a dog] and take great pleasure in answering only to myself. More and more often lately I’ve been wanting to strike off on my own [again] and find myself a little cabin in the woods that I can set up a forge next to and make metal things and write stories and have chickens running around in the yard. And maybe a goat. I’m flexible on the goat part.

But, I want babies. And an adult to cook for, and someone to be part of my functional unit, and romance and stupid, giddy love. So, where is my piece of the puzzle?

And yet.

And yet, here I am. Thinking. There was an e-mail going around a couple of years ago that talked about the quarter life crisis. Among other things, it highlights the battle of ennui and enthusiasm that we all feel when we’re in our twenties. Snapping between wild confidence and crippling anxiety and the constant conflicting questions. What Next? What am I doing with myself? Who cares what I do? What will people think of what I do? I don’t want to do anything with myself. I want to change the world. What the hell is wrong with me?

It’s exhausting, and it’s precisely the reason that I spend as much time as I do in my own head. Why I read constantly, or write this blog.

We don’t want to inflict ourselves on the world, but at the same time, we’re aching for it.

Or maybe it’s just me.


i got a new plant.

well, new old plant that i’ve actually had for a few months now and forgot to mention. she is a corn plant that a coworker gave to me because her new office has no room. her name is constance cordelia. she’s a full-figured lady that adds a bit of sass to the kitchen window crew, which includes patience [pony-tail palm] and louisa [pothos]

poor aloysius [palm] is still the only fella since bob/fred [bamboo] kicked a few months back.

why are you looking at me that way?