what a year for a new year
we need it like we needed life, i guess
the last one left us lying in a mess
what a year for a new yearwhat a night for a sunrise
and we thought the dark would never end
reaching out to try to find a friend
what a night for a sunrisewhat a day for a new day
and our star shines like a miracle
and our world is almost beautiful again
what a day for a new daywhat a year for a new year
soon we'll be lying in our beds
and new dreams will fill our heads
and the old ones will be endedhope we'll forget about this place
let it go without a trace
wipe the teardrops from our faceswhat a year for a new year
--dan wilson, what a year for a new year
(Just in case you're not on the notify list, December entries start here.)
So that's it for 2003.
I'm feeling brave enough to say that 2004 is going to be different. I actually have hope and optimism tonight, cheesy as it might be to say on New Year's Eve. Despite the admittedly whiny December, I had an epiphany of sorts on my birthday. I'm ready to let go of all that happened, or didn't happen, in 2003. I'm ready for the clean slate.
2004. I like the sound of it, the look of it. I like that it's an even number. An Olympic year. More importantly, an election year.
It's going to be a good year.
I think I'm pretty blessed with the number of friends I have in my life. There are the girls, of course. There's a wider circle of journal-related friends. A few people from law school. There are a couple of people in DC who I have come to count on to get me through my daily life. I know I'd be wretchedly unhappy here without them.
And there's Elise, who means more to me than I ever actually tell her. I've been missing her more than ever lately. Elise is the one who has known me since I was five, who knows where I come from, who knows absolutely everything there is to know about me, the good, the bad, the ugly, and she loves me anyway. Everyone should be so lucky to have an Elise in their lives.
But I have let some friends go over the past year or so, and that's not cool. If someone is willing to be your friend, to invest time in you, it's a gift you should never, ever take for granted. And there are friends from high school, college, and my time in L.A. that I have lost touch with for reasons that all lie at my feet.
So this year, I am going to make amends, as they say. I'm going to say I'm sorry and explain as much as I can and ask for forgiveness. And if they decide to let me back into their lives, I will not let them go again.
I'm also going to date. I've moved from the "all my friends are getting married" stage to the "all my friends are having babies" stage. It's time for me to get in the game. It's past time.
I tried once in the fall, believe it or not. I found a guy on match.com, winked at him (oh, whatever) and he winked back, and we e-mailed for a couple of weeks, and then we had dinner. He was cute and tall, he brought me a rose and held out my chair, he was from the Midwest, he won money on Jeopardy, and he had an interesting job that he wasn't allowed to talk about. You think I'm kidding, but I'm not. All he could tell me was the he worked in "intelligence" and that he was in training "down I-95" (ever heard of the Farm, people?) and if he didn't show up at work by 9:00 and didn't call anyone, the FBI would come to his house. Could I make this stuff up?
Anyway, he was all kinds of good things, and we had a lovely dinner that lasted almost three hours with no lapse in conversation, but there was absolutely no spark of any kind. I went to work the next day and people asked "How did it go last night?" and I'd have to think for a second to remember what they were talking about.
Not a good sign. And truthfully, I wasn't ready. But it's time to try again. My goal is not to have another woe-is-me holiday season next year. Whether I'm with someone or not, I will feel better for having tried. At least I hope so, because really, who wants to go through that again? Certainly not you, and certainly not me. Ugh.
Other things are going to happen. Earlier this year, I signed up to be an ambassador for Project Vote Smart, a strictly non-partisan organization designed to provide a wealth of information to voters who are trying to decide who to support. I haven't done anything with them yet, but I'm going to. (It's an incredible resource, this website. You should go check it out.)
I'm going to clean out my house. I have so much crap, it's unbelievable. I try to avoid turning on the light in my bedroom because it is generally a disaster area and the closet in there is downright condemnable (if that is a word). I live in a beautiful apartment, full of space and windows and hardwood floors, and I am not worthy of it. Perhaps I've been watching a little too much Queer Eye, but I think that if I can decide what to do with all my stuff, throw out what I don't need and figure out where the rest of it belongs, I can be proud of my home.
More things. I'm going to be in a play in March. I'm going to keep playing the violin even though I've been playing for nine months and still pretty much suck. I'm going to go see Elise and her seven-month-old son Mercutio (no, that is not his real name) in February. It is entirely possible that I will be spending part of September in France. I'm going to help with JournalCon '04, which is sort of funny considering I almost quit after the last one.
So basically, I'm going to repair, act, date, vote, clean, play, travel, and organize. I'm going to love, and hope, and work.
And I'm going to write.
What a year for a new year.
