Did everyone have a good Christmas? Good Chanauka or however the fuck you spell it? Turkey day? All the other days that are significant from October through January? I sure hope so. For me, I wouldn’t know if my holidays were good or bad because it went by so damn fast that I hardly had time to figure out if I was enjoying myself or not. To clarify, this is pretty much a breakdown of the holidays as I recall it: Shit, it’s Halloween? I better start prepping the turkey, and I’m thirty one now because I need to put the tree up and throw out all this wrapping paper, the end.
And now I’m here. looking up at my 2014 calendar, ready to take it down and set it on fire, because 2014 can suck it.
It wasn’t all bad, I suppose. I learned a lot of things, like birthdays cease to matter after thirty, cats really don’t have nine lives*, and North Koreans have no sense of humor. Also? BILL COSBY HAS A RAPEY PUDDIN’ POP.
This is what life is all about, right? A collection of learning experiences that all make sense when it’s too late and then you fucking die? Yeah, I suspected as much.
*(regarding the nine-lives reference, our beloved cat Butters decided to up and die in front of our house for no discernible reason other to ruin Christmas and make us all sad. It totally worked too because. I loved that furry fucking asshole more than I’ve loved any other furry fucking asshole besides my boyfriend).
((Kidding. My boyfriend isn’t furry))
Around this time every year, I always look back and reflect on the events leading up to this point in my life, and think of the things that were good, the things that were bad, and chew on what went wrong and what could have been done to make it better. This practice would always revitalize me in a way, as I’m sure it does for many, seeing as how “New Years Resolutions” is still a popular custom. Doing this would give me this renewed sense of hope that I can turn everything around and make the new year magical and gooey and whatnot. Now that I’m officially an adult and the magic in my heart is dead, I know better. DON’T GET ME WRONG, I’m not saying all is hopeless and that it is impossible to improve on things and create a decent, relatively happy life, I’m just saying that there is no magic in the timing. There’s no magic in a day, or a week, or in some spoken or written intent. If there is any magic in anything, it’s in the “now” and in “doing”, and that can happen all year long.
Shut the fuck up, Gandalf. Anyways, I know that I sound like I’m trying to make some sort of profound point here. I could be, though I don’t know what, exactly. I’m really hungry and my head is swimming with all sorts of enlightened, pessimistic wisdom, so instead of making some eggs and keeping my thoughts to myself like a smart person, I decided to write this blog post instead, because I miss posting. I’m not quite sure why I stopped, though I’m sure it has something to do with me getting in my own way and being swept up in the mundane whirlwind of the day-to-day bullshit we all have to endure. I also feel like this site doesn’t “fit” me anymore, like a snake outgrowing it’s skin or the pants you can’t wear anymore because of all the garbage you’ve been eating, fatty. Yeah, that’s right, I’m talking to you, Tubby McTubberson, seriously, TIME TO PUT THE FORK DOWN.
Okay, before you cry, I’m not actually talking to you, I’m talking to myself because holy shit, I’ve eaten so much pie and mashed potatoes over the past month and a half that I feel like a swollen planet that probably has diabetes now, for fuck’s sake, and it’s time shove a salad into said pie hole and go take a walk or something, shit.
One thing is for sure, I need to keep writing. It’s the only thing that keeps my head in order. Even though the blog world seems to have died out, save for a few whiny folks that like to cry about real world non-issues, I may start a new site. If I do, I’ll post the new link here, should any you want to follow along. Until then? THE END.