It’s the beginning of a new year. Usually, I don’t go in for celebrating the perceived passage of an arbitrary concept like Time, but I do like the sales. (Seriously- the local bookstore runs a “buy 2 get 1 free” sale the day after Christmas every year, and I’m not enough of a chronologic elitist to pass that kind of a deal up. Especially when I’m *this* close to finally gathering the entire run of Chibi Vampire.)
A new year is also as good an excuse as any to get back into blogging. A lot of things happened to me in 2014 that were worth blogging about, but most of them never made passed a few hastily scrawled lines on one of the approximately 397 notepads sitting around my apartment. (Most of which were stolen from hotels. Some people go for the shampoo, but I’ve never understood the point of trying to smuggle tiny toiletries back through airport security.)
Among the highlights I missed were 7 conventions (4 zombie, 1 time-travel, 1 general sci-fi, and 1 video game), half a dozen business trips around the country (Portland was beautiful, Tampa was awful, DC fell somewhere in between), a new side job, two new furry companions, and a whole host of ridiculous situations that only Facebook got to hear about.
Instead, I blogged 8 times in 12 months: a new couch, a pile of books, a student loan mix-up, a weather-related game that everyone loses, a somewhat-angsty post on dealing with people, a photo collage of my living room wall, an obituary for the best friend I’ve ever had, and a definitely-angsty post on childhood and rabbits.
I’m better than that.
Ok, I’m better than MOST of that. I’m not above the occasion descent into angst (especially when I’m in Tampa), and there are always going to be inconvenient trains, tornadoes, and taxes to whine about online. But there was an event that happened to me back in 2006 that I’ve never shared, and I think the time has come for the story to see the light of day.
My college had, like most other colleges, a student counseling center. It was understood that the center was there for career guidance more than any kind of psychological therapy, but the school still gently encouraged (read: obsessively reminded) the students to check in there at least once a year. My junior year check-in happened to fall on a day when I’d gotten into yet another argument with two of my roommates over why wearing a shirt when answering the door seemed out of the realm of possibilities for them, so I was a little preoccupied as I sat down across from the career counselor. Suffice it to say, we didn’t get to my resume review that day. After listening to me rant about the budding nudists for 45 minutes, this young white guy folded his hands, looked straight at me, and said, “Bitches always gonna be crazy. Best you can do is make them want to be crazy somewhere else.” Super awkward, yes, but also unexpectedly empowering. It remains the single best piece of advice I’ve ever been given.
To honor that, I’m declaring 2015 as my Awkwardly Empowering Year. I’m going to own the ridiculous situations that tend to make up my days, pull whatever deeper meaning/ life lessons I can out of them, and when all that inevitably fails, I’m going to at least remember to post about them. 2015 will be full of conventions (zombies, time-travel, general sci-fi, and video games again), business travel (including Tampa again), new rabbit antics, and everyone’s favorite topic: my ever-present student loans. Next January, I want to be able to look back on my archives and see more than excitement over a new couch. I want to be proud of myself- to be further along on my human journey when the Earth slides back into the same place in twelve months. Life, like the proverbial bitches, may always be crazy, but this year I’ve got it covered.