You know, I actually just spent the last ten minutes composing a semi-schmaltzy post about the New Year and second chances and introspection, and then my computer randomly deleted it. There are a couple of different options I can see before me. Either I attempt to re-write the undoubtedly brilliant prose that has now been lost somewhere in hyperspace, all the while knowing that the second time through will inevitably never be as magnificent as the first; or I take this as a sign to quit my barely begun resolution of starting a blog and read my newly purchased book instead (A Storm of Swords!! 1128 pages of awesomeness, or so I’ve been told); or I just laugh, and choose instead to see this as a metaphor.
Turns out, I’m a metaphor kind of gal.
This whole year for me has sort of felt like those ten minutes of writing– earnest, full of good (if somewhat clichéd) intentions, putting forth my very best effort– and all, as it turns out, for nothing. A blank void in the chapter of my life with no progress to show for it.
…Or maybe not.
You know, I’ve always felt like New Years is a bit of a sham, because if everyone else is anything like me, I go into it full of expectations and hope, and I end up reverting back to my old ways within a week. Maybe two. I’m pretty sure I read somewhere that the definition of insanity is repeating the same thing over and over again and somehow expecting different results, and sometimes I feel like that’s what New Years is all about. I don’t think I can name a single resolution that I ever saw from start to finish, and yet every year I go into it hoping that somehow this is going to be THE YEAR. The year I get out of debt, and have some kind of writing success, and figure out what I’m supposed to do with my life, and (remember me mentioning above the tendency toward sentimentality?? this was not a joke, people) the year I find true love (yeah, I know, it makes me gag a little bit, too, but there it is). I don’t remember the exact wording of what my goals were for last year, but I can guess they were pretty much along these lines. And what did I actually accomplish?
Still in debt.
Still no clue what I’m supposed to be doing or who I’m supposed to be.
Still getting my heart trampled.
So maybe this is the year that I throw in the towel and just face the inevitable. Maybe this is the year that instead of making goals like ‘exercise more’ or ‘learn a foreign language’, I should lower the bar a little. Maybe I should start making resolutions like ‘find a really comfy mumu’ or ‘spend the entire day in front of the DVR, with special bonus cookie option’. These are goals I’m fairly confident I could accomplish, and at least then I’d have something to check off my list. But then again. . .
I’m starting a blog. It’s not even 2012 yet, and I’m already making good on one of my resolutions. So maybe it’s not crazy after all. And maybe when I really look back and think on it, I didn’t make huge leaps and bounds forward– but I did take some baby steps. For instance:
Yeah, still got those student loans. But you know what? I made my payments every month. I have money in my bank account. I have a roof over my head. I have enough food to eat every day. I have a sweet job at the Sundance Film Festival. And when I marry Hugh Jackman, he’ll make up the difference for me (okay, backtracking a bit here, but the first few lines of that were sincere).
Yeah, my name isn’t on the bestseller list yet. But I finished two novels this past year and almost without exception came through on my goal to write at least two hours a day. And I have a gazillion more ideas I’m super excited to keep writing about, even if they never see the light of day (but I’m still really hoping that they do. . .)
Yeah, I still don’t know who I’m supposed to be. But I like who I am now, most of the time. And the beauty of it is, those things I don’t like? I can change. Maybe not all at once, but a little bit at a time.
Yeah, my heart’s been broken a couple of times. I guess that makes me human. And as long as I learn from each one then I’m not worse off for it, not really. (I think some really famous guy who wore tights had something smart to say about that once. . .)
So here’s to our ability to change and actually make our lives a little bit better. Call me optimistic or crazy (just don’t call me Shirley– ha, that one’s for you, Dad), but I really believe that. Here’s to starting a blog. Just as a disclaimer, not all of the posts are going to be this cheese-tastic. Some of them will. Some of them will be stories, and songs, and jokes, and books I like to read, and foods I like to eat, and reality TV I love to hate.
This is my little corner of the universe. Nice to have you here.