in review:
Jan. 1st, 2007 09:42 pm2006.
At the end of it, I can barely muster a "it happened." Oh my god seriously, this month. What the fuck. Everything happened. 6 days of vacation, 5 dinners, 5 parties, 3 dates, 2 major holidays, and 1 dead alternator.
I'm barely ready to go to work tomorrow. But there is a readiness. That's surprising.
About a year ago, I was living in Bellingham with Chris Longman. I was about to be single. Season 5 of 24 was starting. Soon I would start 12-step, and spend the next three months daring to be unafraid of myself. Today, 9 months after completing the program, that same fear remains my biggest struggle.
I spent Winter trying to keep my feet in a rising tide, and Spring learning how to ride the waves out of it and land safely on the beach. It was a messy process. In my 3 years in Bellingham, I learned many names for myself The last one was "Alumni."
After a nervous few weeks spent packing, I left for 21 charmed days in Italy, where I drowned in beauty. That trip was one of the greatest gifts I have ever received. It was exhaustingly excellent. It was an enchantment, broken when the plane hit the tarmac in Seattle, that I won't soon forget.
I probably wouldn't redo 6 years of college to take that trip again, but that the question came to mind is pretty significant.
2 weeks after I returned, I moved to Ballard to work at Treemo. It felt like transplanting a sapling. After 4 months here, I feel like I'm just starting to get settled. In the long view, that looks right. But leaving Lynnwood was wrenching. I had never taken seriously my vacating my room there, and long before I did, it stopped being mine. I'm still working on that.
Finally today, 2006 and all its changes come to a close, and the long climb begins. Like any happy ending, it is sad and hopeful, as I lost a lot of very old names this year, and learned many new ones. I've gone from boyfriend to single, student to graduate, family friend to man of the world, novice to traveler, suburb to city, dependent to independent, part-time to full-time, rooted to searching.
And when the moment came, with 30 people in my living room holding champagne and counting down from 10, I stepped into the cold to see the television's fireworks with my own eyes, and they were more beautiful than any television, even from 5 miles away. There on the porch with people who were not guests, I felt miles from what I've been looking for, but for the first time I could see it for myself. Somehow after 24 years of watching a broadcast of life's fireworks, this year I got the chance to feel the explosions, and see amazed faces in their light.
I pray that this year I can light some of my own. Let's walk to the park, scare ourselves silly with gunpowder, and remember that we're alive.
At the end of it, I can barely muster a "it happened." Oh my god seriously, this month. What the fuck. Everything happened. 6 days of vacation, 5 dinners, 5 parties, 3 dates, 2 major holidays, and 1 dead alternator.
I'm barely ready to go to work tomorrow. But there is a readiness. That's surprising.
About a year ago, I was living in Bellingham with Chris Longman. I was about to be single. Season 5 of 24 was starting. Soon I would start 12-step, and spend the next three months daring to be unafraid of myself. Today, 9 months after completing the program, that same fear remains my biggest struggle.
I spent Winter trying to keep my feet in a rising tide, and Spring learning how to ride the waves out of it and land safely on the beach. It was a messy process. In my 3 years in Bellingham, I learned many names for myself The last one was "Alumni."
After a nervous few weeks spent packing, I left for 21 charmed days in Italy, where I drowned in beauty. That trip was one of the greatest gifts I have ever received. It was exhaustingly excellent. It was an enchantment, broken when the plane hit the tarmac in Seattle, that I won't soon forget.
I probably wouldn't redo 6 years of college to take that trip again, but that the question came to mind is pretty significant.
2 weeks after I returned, I moved to Ballard to work at Treemo. It felt like transplanting a sapling. After 4 months here, I feel like I'm just starting to get settled. In the long view, that looks right. But leaving Lynnwood was wrenching. I had never taken seriously my vacating my room there, and long before I did, it stopped being mine. I'm still working on that.
Finally today, 2006 and all its changes come to a close, and the long climb begins. Like any happy ending, it is sad and hopeful, as I lost a lot of very old names this year, and learned many new ones. I've gone from boyfriend to single, student to graduate, family friend to man of the world, novice to traveler, suburb to city, dependent to independent, part-time to full-time, rooted to searching.
And when the moment came, with 30 people in my living room holding champagne and counting down from 10, I stepped into the cold to see the television's fireworks with my own eyes, and they were more beautiful than any television, even from 5 miles away. There on the porch with people who were not guests, I felt miles from what I've been looking for, but for the first time I could see it for myself. Somehow after 24 years of watching a broadcast of life's fireworks, this year I got the chance to feel the explosions, and see amazed faces in their light.
I pray that this year I can light some of my own. Let's walk to the park, scare ourselves silly with gunpowder, and remember that we're alive.
no subject
Date: 2007-01-02 07:42 am (UTC)but I had a really nice day with you so I guess that evens out to a neutral emptiness. I dunno. I'm just rambling. I don't know if I can handle 2007 if it's going to be like last year. (at least not sober...)
no subject
Date: 2007-01-02 07:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-02 10:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-02 05:20 pm (UTC)You were missed at the party, I hope your new years was awesome too.
no subject
Date: 2007-01-04 02:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-04 04:52 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-04 03:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-04 04:51 am (UTC)