Monday, January 6, 2014

For Auld Lang Syne

Amazon Prime Instant Video just added thirteen seasons or some equally ridiculous number of America's Next Top Model, so I think it's safe to assume that you will see me never from here on out.  Well, even less than you normally see me.  Don't you fret, I am like, 55% joking.

The Blogosphere is a twitter--woof to mixing social media metaphors but moving on--about the advent of 2014.  I know I've posted the usual twaddle about new years before and I was determine to boycott it because...that will show my ten followers?  Who knows.  But I decided to post about it anyways because that's just the sort of maverick I am.

The past several years of my life have been challenging.  Mostly in good ways but not always: I finished undergrad, moved across the country, lost my grandmother, started grad school, started teaching, lost my grandfather, finished grad school, applied to more graduate schools, and on and on it goes. Suffice it to say that the new year has consistently heralded a significant struggle (and sometimes triumph) since 2008.  Except for this past year.  2013 was oddly...placid.

Now before commencing your hardest and most dramatic eye roll of 2014, understand that I am not saying this is bad thing.  At all.  It's just strange when thinking back on the year that was, not to find it riddled with catastrophe (however minor) or notched by notable, transformative events.  I am almost taken aback to reflect on how relatively quiet it was.  But I think that it's tranquility belies it's importance because it was in this past year that I truly became an adult.

Of course, just typing that sentence instantly makes me feel childish; it's like a declaration a teenager would make to try and convince her parents to let her go to Virginia Beach with friends over the weekend.  As if her mere insistence of the fact makes it that more true.  (Not that I know from experience or anything...)  But this year something changed.  It happened gradually and then suddenly and I still can't quite seem to trace back to the exact how and when, but somehow, that doesn't matter.

I really don't even know how to phrase it other than the way I just did and I don't even have any proof to offer you other than this testament.

I guess more than anything I feel ready.  A lot of my 20s were marred by feelings of ill preparedness for what was to come.  Mostly, I had no idea what was to come and that was perhaps what was most frightening of all.  But the thought of not knowing doesn't seem so daunting to me anymore.  What I thought would happen in my life has shifted so many times that it ceases to be an area I chart.

Wait.  Record scratch, is that it?  Accepting change?!  That was the trick all along?  Son. of. a. mother. Shouldn't I have learned that from E.B. White like twenty years ago? 

Anyways, I think I've waxed introspective for long enough.  Back to the frivs.

I don't make new year's resolutions because I don't particularly like failing at things, but if I were forced to make one, I think it would be to cry less at Chopped episodes because it's sort of getting a little ridiculous. I mean, they aren't all especially heart warming.  Sometimes, they're just cooking calf brains.

Isn't it nice to see that becoming an adult doesn't totally eliminate one's neuroses.  I think it safe to say that for me, most of it's preserved in my winning personality.

And do you want to know what else is nice about becoming an adult?

Owning one of these bad boys.

There was some debate about the color (Pistacho) but I gave Moses a choice: either we could get the color he wanted or I could have 100% control over our first born's name.

Moses, haunted by the fate of little Gilbert on the playground, relented and we got the color I wanted.  He'll thank me later, don't worry.  (But don't think for a second that I am giving up on Gilbert.)

The hugest thanks to Dan and Lynne for assuming that Moses and I will never get married and getting us one of these.

I love it.

A happy 14 to you.

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