Monday, December 31, 2012
Farewell, 2012. You saucy minx.
It's not a tradition of mine to reflect on the year on December 31. Usually that comes on May 16, my birthday, in which I write a couple of pages in my private "Birthday Journal" (a Google doc, really) to sum up what's happened to me, how I've grown, what I'm proud of, what I'm afraid of... It's fun to periodically go back and read them, all in a row, so I'm fast-forwarding through time, and gazing at myself from a place of retrospection, an older sister to myself, whispering, "Keep going."
But 2012 has been profound, and I think it deserves some kind of acknowledgment, however brief.
First thing's first: astrology. The intellectual in me doesn't believe in horoscopes, but the other part of me does, and I'd say the forecast for Taurus for 2012 turned out to be fairly accurate. It would be a year of upheaval, it said, a year of "setting the stage." I wouldn't get a whole lot of stuff done in a neat, A to Z kind of way. Rather, I would initiate a host of changes and lay the groundwork for a fulfilling future, all the while enduring lots of shifts in my life's tectonic plates.
This is sort of like code for: "Dude. Your year is going to suck!"
On some level, it did.
But, on other levels, it didn't. The year meant too much to suck. I accomplished too much for it to be mostly bad.
Was it super hard? Yes. Did I come to some painful realizations about my life. Heck, yes. Did I leave behind a lot of what I considered "my identity," my origin, my sense of home, family, career? Heck to the mother-effing yes! But now, looking back at the past 364 days of my life, I feel, in a broader sense, the way one does after a super challenging, kick-your-own-butt throw-down workout. I am a better, stronger, more capable person now. My buns are killing me. But, man. Do I feel like I can do anything!
In addition, there were lots of unadulterated, joyous events this year! Straight-up, heartwarming, romantic comedy shit. Man of my dreams, check. Loving friends and family members, check. Shopping sprees with my little sister imagined as montages set to pop music, check.
It was all there. So I must pay homage to all the blindingly amazingly good things, too.
In summary: 2012, you were a saucy minx of a year. I won't miss having you around, but I will remember you fondly, the way one remembers a strict, ornery chemistry teacher -- the hunched over, high-wasted pants-wearing type, who never awarded a single A, sent us to the principal's office, told us we were too big for our britches -- and turned out to be one of the best damn teachers we've ever had.
I'm ready for you, 2013. Let's do this!