December is such a strange month. Each year, it seems to sweep swiftly past even faster than the year before it. And before you even realize what’s occurred, it’s January and the gifts are exchanged, the parties are over and all that remains is a slight stomachache due to the overindulgence in sweets. It’s like an annual weeks-long blackout, in a way. Or coming out of a coma.
Maybe it was waking up and looking out at the slight dusting of snow which finally fell from the sky last night/this morning, but I’m feeling really ready to embrace this year. And, having finally had a moment to digest some thoughts, excuse me while I indulge in a missive to myself — a bit of reflection on 2011 and a little bit of goal-setting for 2012.
The past year included a lot of firsts and I’m beginning to feel like I no longer belong at the kids’ table. For some years, I’ve felt trapped in a Lewis Carroll novel-like state of being where so many surroundings feel either too small and impulsive or too large and serious. Like trying to eat a bowl of cereal out of a shot glass (the former). Or suddenly awakening in the middle of an expansive, barren field, lacking any inclination or context of how one arrived or how one could escape (the latter).
Firstly: Three years after graduating from college, I finally found what most people would call a “real” job. You know, in an office. Full-time. With benefits. Paid days off. Visible co-workers. A basketball hoop in the break room. All of these things firsts. The Huffington Post has treated me insanely well. I covered the Pitchfork and Lollapalooza festivals for a widely-read national publication and watched Elijah Wood DJ. I’ve interviewed politicians, teachers, union leaders, filmmakers and penis casters. I’m very proud of what I’ve accomplished in a short time. And I’m totally pumped, ready and incredibly excited for some projects we have coming down the pike.
I hosted my first-ever day-after-birthday dinner at a nice restaurant, surrounded by close friends. With candles. A sassy waitress. Dessert menus. Torture porn-themed art in the restroom. It was pretty much perfect.
I had spent the entire previous day vomiting.
I started DJing occasionally and found myself dabbling in event organizing more regularly. First at a benefit for SiNNERMAN Ensemble, a theater company for which I’ve handled publicity/web updates/social media for the past several months. Second at the second-annual tribute to Kate Bush. Third at a new event with two pals at the Burlington, achieving a goal I set some time ago to bring a more visible queer nightlife presence to Chicago’s Logan Square neighborhood. All were fun, well-lit and raised money for causes I deeply believe in.
I wore a cape (well, poncho) once.
I read essays aloud with a group of friends and colleagues at Tumblr’s first ever Tumblr Reads event in Chicago. I promised myself I’d write more personal essays, that hasn’t really come through.
I watched one of my favorite people ever get married in the best wedding I’ve ever been to in the midst of my first-ever vacation involving air travel with Stefin. And I got slapped by a fellow bridesmaid at the reception — for no apparent reason. I wept into my whiskey-ginger ale on the plane ride home — for no apparent reason.
Portishead. Live. Never, ever thought it’d happen. And there are no words.
Curled up with my Shangri-Las obsession.
I saw and adored Woody Allen’s “Midnight In Paris” in the theater, sitting alone in a movie theater for the first time ever.
I watched as my parents bought a second home in Georgia which they adore. I listened as I found out I will soon officially be an uncle (in March). I smiled when my (unofficial) “nephew” told me he loved me, between rounds of playing with Batman figurines.
We hosted our first true party at our home on New Year’s Day.
I dressed monochromatically for 95 percent of the year. Feeling OK about that.
I cried at work. I laughed on the train. I smiled uncontrollably on an elevator. The power of thought works wonders.
Looking ahead: Going meatless for a month. Eating more colorfully, less dairy-obsessively. More tattoos. More DJing/event organizing/activism. More non-work-related writing. Less e-mail reading. More non-e-mail reading. More cooking. More cats.
Seeing how long this beard will take me.
More emotion. Less hurt. Seriously, less hurt.
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flammablefacade said:
You impress me all the time and I love you so much!
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forwhenifeellikesharing said:
You had a good year and I’m glad I could be a part of it. :)
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