New Year
Happy New Year!
Spent my Eve at Mom's with her and the kids--watched Disney, played Go Fish, and watched the ball drop, of course. It was good to see the kids as excited about it as we were when we were little.
Have been thinking about last year and the new year--what happened, what I learned, what I want to be different. In the spirit of not boring other people, I'll .
I can't say it's been a good year, although good things have happened. I spent most of this year and last year feeling too crappy to really consider it good, and I suspect I may not have done much for making things good for the people around me, either. On the plus side, I've taken steps to fix that problem.
Also a plus is my financial situation: I have a retirement fund going, I'm finally making enough that I can make ends meet each month if I'm careful, and my debt is dwindling. Slowly, but dwindling nonetheless. Dwindling is good.
This was the year when I adopted my son, no relatives died, and my mom started on a new career that seems to be giving her some purpose. I got to see my sister again for the first time in a couple of years and talk to her via lj and the phone; my brother started back to college and seems to be making a go of it this time. I got to visit with a couple of close friends, but I'm afraid I've lost touch with a few others that I don't really want to lose. I'm hoping I can fix that in the new year. This was the year we switched principals at school, had a fire and a lockdown, and my son started on my campus. The year I realized I needed to go back to school and get my Masters in Library Science because I'm going to strangle one of the little snots get burned out one of these days and I need a backup career.
This was the year I came to terms with my asexuality, in the sense that I discovered other people feel the same way I do and that it's not just a figment of my imagination. It's not just that I've never had sex and would suddenly feel desire to if I ever knew what it felt like; it's that I'm just not wired that way--and that's okay. The toughest part has been the acceptance that my chances of a relationship and children are even more limited now; it's hard to give up dreams you've had for as long as you can remember. I have a son, though, and he needs my full attention while he's growing up. Hopefully one day I'll have grandkids to spoil. It will be enough.
I've done some writing I can be proud of this year, but very little of it was original. I want to do more original writing this year. I want to stop playing and start writing in earnest; I may never stand a chance of getting published, but I'd rather fail by trying than by never making the attempt.
I turned thirty this year. Three decades, and part of me feels like "what have I done?" while another part looks back and says "you've accomplished some things worth noticing." Perhaps I wanted, when I was younger and my whole future was unknown, to be at a different place when 2005 rolled around, but I'm not ashamed of any of the decisions I've made to bring me here tonight. I guess I can't ask for much more than that.
The house is quiet now; Will's spending the night with his grandmother and sisters, and I've got the cats and dog shut up in my bedroom already. I should join them, I guess. But as the new year starts for everyone, I want to leave you with something my mom shared with me:
"I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright.
I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun more.
I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirt alive.
I wish you enough pain so that the smallest joys in life appear much bigger.
I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting.
I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess.
I wish you enough "Hello's" to get you through the final "Goodbye.""
"I wish you enough" by Bob Perks
Spent my Eve at Mom's with her and the kids--watched Disney, played Go Fish, and watched the ball drop, of course. It was good to see the kids as excited about it as we were when we were little.
Have been thinking about last year and the new year--what happened, what I learned, what I want to be different. In the spirit of not boring other people, I'll .
I can't say it's been a good year, although good things have happened. I spent most of this year and last year feeling too crappy to really consider it good, and I suspect I may not have done much for making things good for the people around me, either. On the plus side, I've taken steps to fix that problem.
Also a plus is my financial situation: I have a retirement fund going, I'm finally making enough that I can make ends meet each month if I'm careful, and my debt is dwindling. Slowly, but dwindling nonetheless. Dwindling is good.
This was the year when I adopted my son, no relatives died, and my mom started on a new career that seems to be giving her some purpose. I got to see my sister again for the first time in a couple of years and talk to her via lj and the phone; my brother started back to college and seems to be making a go of it this time. I got to visit with a couple of close friends, but I'm afraid I've lost touch with a few others that I don't really want to lose. I'm hoping I can fix that in the new year. This was the year we switched principals at school, had a fire and a lockdown, and my son started on my campus. The year I realized I needed to go back to school and get my Masters in Library Science because I'm going to strangle one of the little snots get burned out one of these days and I need a backup career.
This was the year I came to terms with my asexuality, in the sense that I discovered other people feel the same way I do and that it's not just a figment of my imagination. It's not just that I've never had sex and would suddenly feel desire to if I ever knew what it felt like; it's that I'm just not wired that way--and that's okay. The toughest part has been the acceptance that my chances of a relationship and children are even more limited now; it's hard to give up dreams you've had for as long as you can remember. I have a son, though, and he needs my full attention while he's growing up. Hopefully one day I'll have grandkids to spoil. It will be enough.
I've done some writing I can be proud of this year, but very little of it was original. I want to do more original writing this year. I want to stop playing and start writing in earnest; I may never stand a chance of getting published, but I'd rather fail by trying than by never making the attempt.
I turned thirty this year. Three decades, and part of me feels like "what have I done?" while another part looks back and says "you've accomplished some things worth noticing." Perhaps I wanted, when I was younger and my whole future was unknown, to be at a different place when 2005 rolled around, but I'm not ashamed of any of the decisions I've made to bring me here tonight. I guess I can't ask for much more than that.
The house is quiet now; Will's spending the night with his grandmother and sisters, and I've got the cats and dog shut up in my bedroom already. I should join them, I guess. But as the new year starts for everyone, I want to leave you with something my mom shared with me:
"I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright.
I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun more.
I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirt alive.
I wish you enough pain so that the smallest joys in life appear much bigger.
I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting.
I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess.
I wish you enough "Hello's" to get you through the final "Goodbye.""
"I wish you enough" by Bob Perks