You know what I think is a generally stupid idea? New Year’s Eve. And yet, I look forward to it every holiday season.
When I was young, it was fun. We had snacks and stayed up late and mom and dad always made a party of it. Then sometime in my late teens, it became garbage. I remember going to parties out on Grand Island where I would get hammer-drunk and have no way home the next day. I recant that: one year Jaime and I stole Steve’s car and drove home. I honestly don’t recall if she had a license. Let’s say she did. (She was at least sober-I myself barely remember the car ride home.) If I wasn’t on Grand Island, I was downtown watching the country’s second largest ball drop (Buffalo fun fact!) and freezing my ass off while sipping on a 15$ rum and coke.
One year I went to my aunt Mary’s party which was close to home and all my friends came with so it was perfect. That’s one year of celebrating out of, like, 20.
I gave up on NYE halfway though my relationship with Mark, after we did the ball drop one year and decided it was going on the Murtaugh list. We were certainly getting too old for that shit. Now we spend it with pizza and booze on our couch and it has been delightful. This year we threw Kevin into the mix, and spent the evening playing Soul Caliber and watching YouTube videos. We watched the side by side of the ball drops (Buffalo and NYC) and then Mark kissed me and ran outside to bang pots and pans with Kevin. (Side story: Kev and I grew up in a neighborhood called Riverside where people did this at midnight followed by a rendition of Auld Lange Syne at the top of their lungs. We don’t know if it’s related to the neighborhood specifically or if our parents are just weirdos, but I do distinctly remember other people participating in this when I was young. Is it a cultural thing? A geographical thing? Someone enlighten us.)
1am found me in bed, sleeping soundly. It was, overall, a good night.
The next day we rearranged the furniture on a whim. Hubs decided we needed to change things up a little, so we switched the living and dining rooms and I have to say I like it. Now we are going to do a deep clean of the apartment, because I noticed honest-to-god cobwebs yesterday. I will admit that I am not the world’s greatest housekeeper-I am a creative, and I think that has something to do with it. Everything has it’s place, but like…I don’t dust unless I have to. I just don’t notice it. And then when I do, I feel like a slob. But it’s not sloppiness, it’s just me focusing on other things. My mother tried to instill the whole cleaning thing in me as a kid and it never took. If something is downright dirty, I will handle it. If something is out of place, I will right it. But that’s the extent of my housekeeping-daily management. Deep clean is Mark’s department, and we are going hard the next few days.
I’ve been thinking a lot about 2020. My first thought is that this is what I always believed to be “the future” when I was a kid, so where is my flying car? My second thought is that 20 years ago it was 2000 and I was just turning 17 and Jesus, that feels like yesterday. My third thought is that I need a real resolution this year.
I usually don’t do resolutions, except my old standby: don’t eat any phone books. It’s perfect, because you know you’re going to follow though. And if you don’t, you have bigger issuers than just breaking a resolution. But this year I am making one: I am going to read more. I haven’t read a lot these past five years or so because of my retinopathy. I finally have a clear field of vision now, however, and want to get back to expanding my library. I intend to keep track of everything I read, and to look at the experience as a learning one-something to help me better my own craft. You can’t write if you don’t read and my current rate of maybe two books a year (and likely both Stephen King’s) is dismal. Of course, I had my reasons, but now there’s no excuse. I will be starting the year with my main man of course, and just started reading The Institute, which my father got me for Christmas. Next up is some middle grade books-I can knock those guys out in a day or two, and they will help me with my new tale that I am working on. Time to revisit Judy Blume, and find out what the kids are reading these days.
So, in closing, this is my new year: cleaning, reading, and trying to keep my butt out of the ER, of course. Those are my manageable goals. Of course, me with my big imagination, I have other goals in mind, too. Writing goals.
I wonder where I will be a year from now. Will I be done with my WIP? Will I have found a publisher? Or maybe one for my chapbook? Will I have a complete children’s book to market, with illustrations and everything? Will I continue to have my poetry published? Will my new idea fully form itself in my head so I can do NaNo again next year? So many questions. Only time will tell.
Happy New Year!
2 thoughts on “New Year, Same Me”
The part about having bigger issues on your hands than breaking a resolution if you eat a phone book made me laugh out loud.
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Enjoyed reading! Also like the resolution, made me laugh outloud!
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