Top 10 List for May’s 2012

I cannot believe this year. So much has happened, and I have only 56 entries to show for it. At least there are fewer blog posts to choose from for the annual countdown.

10. May: No one told me I’d eventually get to play against the BYU quarterback. I joined an intramural kickball team, and tonight was our first game.

9. July: Smartphone apps have a tiny dear place in my heart.  I looked around to see that I wasn’t the only one crying. I loved it.

8. July: This is the year I really got into hiking. And most of it during the season of a broken camera. Thank the Lord for making geology pretty.

7. August: Reilly’s birthday, and first time in New York City. We wondered about Glenn Close.

6. January: Careful to put ego-puffing somewhere in the middle. Being published in an academic, peer-reviewed journal would be a nice touch to my last semester.

5. September: The Oklahoma visit went along with going to NYC. Dad still finds happiness in little things. In simple things.

4. November: What an election year. I’m sorry to the friends I may have pissed off. But,  I spent maybe at least 5 minutes voting/playing with the fancy machine.

3. October: Recap of April’s commencement ceremony. I only slept because my friends who sat by me made me so very comfortable.

2.5. April: Full of transitions and excitement and bending rules for lists of 10.  The past four days have knocked me squarely on my rear. Three flights, up and down, up and down. My things, my books. His things, his books.

2. December: Can we distinguish the source of our tears in December? We talk about future names, but what is the name of our future?

1. June: Well, duh. Mindblowing. Incredible. Fantastic. Amazing. This.

This list doesn’t even include events like Christmas and wedding showers and getting jobs. It’s true that I am often vague in my blog posts, but know that these top 10 entries include the top people in my life. You’re always in my thoughts and prayers. You’ve done so much for my happiness and helped me to become a decent person. Thank you for your support. Thank you especially for your friendship and kindness and generosity, which I know will carry over into the new year and our upcoming and continued lives together.

I wish you all the blessings and happiness you deserve. Nothing less.

Early New Year’s Morning

silver rind hangs from a sparkle
suspended in dark blue gloaming
that bleeds onto imposing indigo shadows
casting upon glowing pinkish silence
that will progress to a crunchy white
and reflect clarity
amidst brown bright noise
drowning frosted sighs
that wait
and dissipate
to answer to
the pallid pendulum
of that eternal
chromatic clock

2010 in Review

I tried going through this past year’s 262 entries and I only made it through February before I started getting angry and feeling depressed all over again.

2010 was hard, and my attitude didn’t make it any better. I understood why I kept my distance. I wouldn’t have wanted to be around myself, either.

It’s been a year since I gave away the bunnies, Chicken and Pig. I don’t really talk about them much. I cry for them sometimes.

I guess I got some important stuff done. Didn’t get any Bs in classes. Worked/ing on some fun projects. Had a couple of publishing opportunities. Learned some really cool things. Got great jobs. Did some wonderful traveling.

All the while I loathed myself. Because I wasn’t myself.

Just imagine what I could have accomplished if I’d been more positive.

I’ll just keep taking life one day at a time.

Try to be better each day.

Fitter.

Happier.

More productive.

New year.

11:20 pm. Midnight’s too far away. I’d rather sleep now.

Smile, and dream big.

Blogs About Me, Not Really by Me.

There’s a primordial attempt at a New Year’s entry slurrying around in my brain. We’ll see if it’ll actually take shape.

In the meantime, read two stuffs from nice and awesome friends.

1. This was a lot of fun. I’m glad we could get together, but we shouldn’t let another 16 years pass before it happens again. Capiche? Happy New Year, old chum.

2. Amy is a nut. Since I can’t decide on a public identity, I was polling people for how my name should appear in print. Then I asked for help on a 50-word bio for the school literary journal that’s going to publish one of my stories.* She’s brilliant anyway, but this seals the deal.

*That’s a piece of good news that I had intended to share, but I wanted to wait until the journal went to press. Almost there.

What’s It All About?

January 1, 2010. I’m sitting at a computer that isn’t mine; at a desk, in a house, in a city nowhere near the places I’ve called home. No one else is awake at 7:16 AM, and I can’t go back to sleep. It’s a little chilly in this living room, and I fold my arms and make fists between typing to keep warm. It’s a new year, but it mostly feels like just another tick of the clock. I’ve already started over, reanalyzed, planned. I am beginning to execute. I don’t think I’ve been this excited in a long, long time.

I miss certain things. And people.

2009 was … fun. I mean, I did lose my job, but because that happened, I’m here now. I’m shrugging instead of crying. Look at me now, this is where I’m supposed to be, where I actually want to be.

I may change my tune … to a different key, but only because I probably won’t be able to sing the really high notes, so I’ll just shift them down a half-step or so. Same song, though.

I’m not going to change my mind.

Becoming an American citizen. Having the best summer of my life. Reconnecting with family. Nurturing forever friendships.

It’s been a tremendous year.

***

My biological father texted me on the 30th. I’m on the phone with my dad right now.

Nifty. The usual unpredictability.

2010, looks like you’re not going to disappoint.

That Old Song

What I’ll miss: New Year’s Eve
I know I just said I won’t miss tourists, but nothing is quite like the phenomenon of one million people standing in Times Square waiting to ring in the New Year, or the thousands of parties around the city watching it on television. I might actually be in Utah on New Year’s Eve, and I know I’ll be looking at my former home and wondering where everyone is or how they’re anticipating the rest of their lives. I miss it already.

What I won’t miss: Dirty snow and unjumpable puddles
I love when a fresh blanket of snow covers the city overnight, and it softens the noise and makes everything look brighter, but once the plows come through and traffic awakes and turns the snow into mud slushies, it’s gross, and I feel like spitting. I’m done.

I love summer rains and the fresh and cooler air it brings, and even how the clouds and I even seem to bond as we perspire together, but summer doesn’t even seem like summer when you fear catching a disease from jumping in a puddle. When it rains, all the city fluids combine and the drains become sewers above ground, turning us all into grumpy, 9-to-5, scurrying, mangy-haired rats. All I want is a fresh, clean puddle.

The Past 24 Hours

Let me start with 1,000 words:

Where else would I be looking? IN THE MIRRORS. What, you say? The mirrors are behind me? Guess what. They’re also where I’m looking in the photo. The mirrors facing each other showed infinite reflections. It’s a neat effect. I’m not deliberately ignoring the boy, if that’s what you’re thinking.

I’ll post more pictures later. It was a fun party. If you weren’t there, I wish you could have been.

Today, Becky and I:

-picked up a Zipcar at noon
-went to IKEA in Elizabeth, NJ (whenever I hear the name of that town, I think of my high school friend, Becky Fraser)
-shopped until 4:30, where we picked up 7′ bookcases and transported them ourselves
-shopped for other fun things for Becky’s new apartment, like a giant frosted vase that looks like a narrow flask
-dropped the IKEA things off at Becky’s new apartment around 5:00
-gathered some belongings I left behind and drove up to Inwood around 5:50
-returned the Zipcar around 7:00
-ate dinner
-moved the remaining things from the old apartment to Becky’s new apartment
-had one last sweep of the apartment
-walked toward the light switch by the door
-said goodbye to Kool-Aid man

I threw away Kool-Aid man
Then, Becky said something and put her hand on the light switch.
I put my hand on the light switch.
We turned off the light to that apartment together.
My eyes blinked away tears.
We closed the door behind us.
We turned in the keys.
We watched Flight of the Conchords on YouTube on Becky’s computer.
I came home.

Day one of 2009 was productive and tiring, but gratifying.

Too bad I have to work on day two.