Re: the two little words "Happy Birthday"
It is really, really awesome, especially for someone who's been a wallflower pretty much since birth, to be surrounded by this amount of well-wishing, comfort, and general friendliness.
More so since I've spent the morning being put through an emotional wringer by a fanfic, and thank you to everyone, author included, who's been cheering me up afterwards.
Time flies; I can remember this date last year and it's hard to believe it was a year ago and not, through some odd temporal alchemy, yesterday and today and tomorrow and last month and last week. Time is odd.
Last year today, I requested to drive my brother's car and all four of us got in it and we went to this winding parkway road down by the river through the Twin Cities. We went to see a set of locks on the river and watched some boats go up and down through them. I got called sexy by a drunk woman aboard a boat full of other drunk people. We visited a friend of the family who was in the hospital with constant seizures, for whom the prognosis was not good. His wife was gratified at the visit; he wasn't conscious. He's still alive and quite well now.
Since then, I've become a fine arts major, posted artwork online (even though it still isn't up to the skill level I'm happy with), discovered the spirit in artwork that I've often neglected in favor of the safety of technical perfection, discovered voice and wings in situations when I've previously been too terrified to use either, discovered Noodles & Company, White Castle, and rice and cheese on tortilla chips, arranged to seek training for a hobby boiler operator's license and an informal apprenticeship with the guy who runs the stationary boiler at my local steam threshers show, figured out how to appreciate (and create!) abstract art, mixed and thrown porcelain, learned how to fire a gas kiln, how to edit registries in Windows XP, how to get along with and respect people of different political affiliations, and how to change windshield wipers.
I've changed three tires since this date last year, paid down a credit card balance and a line of credit, gone from academic probation to the dean's list, made many new friends and been infected with love for many new Transformers pairings. I've discoverd RPing and the joys of instant messaging, and sampled Twitter without becoming addicted, and finally convinced the dentist to let me get my teeth drilled without novocaine (it's SO much better this way).
By this time next year I want to learn to drive stick shift; I want a motorcycle endorsement and the boiler operator's license; I want to have created enough art work that I can set up booths at art festivals to sell it, and create a web site for the same purpose. I want to be able to look at my completed work without going "I can do so much better;" I want to have a lot of completed work to not do that with. I want to write fanfiction, and poetry, and maybe come up with something original that I can write a book out of.
I want to volunteer; I want to learn how to change oil, do routine engine maintenance, shingle a roof, weld, and make the kind of chili that makes people ask for the recipe and abscond with the leftovers. I want to live in America, not just in Minnesota. I want to brighten people's days; I want to learn to talk the way normal people socialize with each other. I want to catch more flaws in myself, watch more moonrises, dance in more rainstorms, go stormspotting, have lightsaber duels and nerf-gun fights, roll down hills, watch 80's cartoons and play 90's video games.
As far as luck goes, if things go very well by this time next year I will have driven a steam locomotive---yes, the kind that runs on train tracks and pulls train cars. Some measure of financial independence would be wonderful, too. A motorcycle to go with that license. We shall see.
Going with the time-being-fluid analogy of above: *raises the glass of chianti she'll be buying later on this evening* Here's to a new year; may it bring joy and success to me and to everyone who reads this post.
More so since I've spent the morning being put through an emotional wringer by a fanfic, and thank you to everyone, author included, who's been cheering me up afterwards.
Time flies; I can remember this date last year and it's hard to believe it was a year ago and not, through some odd temporal alchemy, yesterday and today and tomorrow and last month and last week. Time is odd.
Last year today, I requested to drive my brother's car and all four of us got in it and we went to this winding parkway road down by the river through the Twin Cities. We went to see a set of locks on the river and watched some boats go up and down through them. I got called sexy by a drunk woman aboard a boat full of other drunk people. We visited a friend of the family who was in the hospital with constant seizures, for whom the prognosis was not good. His wife was gratified at the visit; he wasn't conscious. He's still alive and quite well now.
Since then, I've become a fine arts major, posted artwork online (even though it still isn't up to the skill level I'm happy with), discovered the spirit in artwork that I've often neglected in favor of the safety of technical perfection, discovered voice and wings in situations when I've previously been too terrified to use either, discovered Noodles & Company, White Castle, and rice and cheese on tortilla chips, arranged to seek training for a hobby boiler operator's license and an informal apprenticeship with the guy who runs the stationary boiler at my local steam threshers show, figured out how to appreciate (and create!) abstract art, mixed and thrown porcelain, learned how to fire a gas kiln, how to edit registries in Windows XP, how to get along with and respect people of different political affiliations, and how to change windshield wipers.
I've changed three tires since this date last year, paid down a credit card balance and a line of credit, gone from academic probation to the dean's list, made many new friends and been infected with love for many new Transformers pairings. I've discoverd RPing and the joys of instant messaging, and sampled Twitter without becoming addicted, and finally convinced the dentist to let me get my teeth drilled without novocaine (it's SO much better this way).
By this time next year I want to learn to drive stick shift; I want a motorcycle endorsement and the boiler operator's license; I want to have created enough art work that I can set up booths at art festivals to sell it, and create a web site for the same purpose. I want to be able to look at my completed work without going "I can do so much better;" I want to have a lot of completed work to not do that with. I want to write fanfiction, and poetry, and maybe come up with something original that I can write a book out of.
I want to volunteer; I want to learn how to change oil, do routine engine maintenance, shingle a roof, weld, and make the kind of chili that makes people ask for the recipe and abscond with the leftovers. I want to live in America, not just in Minnesota. I want to brighten people's days; I want to learn to talk the way normal people socialize with each other. I want to catch more flaws in myself, watch more moonrises, dance in more rainstorms, go stormspotting, have lightsaber duels and nerf-gun fights, roll down hills, watch 80's cartoons and play 90's video games.
As far as luck goes, if things go very well by this time next year I will have driven a steam locomotive---yes, the kind that runs on train tracks and pulls train cars. Some measure of financial independence would be wonderful, too. A motorcycle to go with that license. We shall see.
Going with the time-being-fluid analogy of above: *raises the glass of chianti she'll be buying later on this evening* Here's to a new year; may it bring joy and success to me and to everyone who reads this post.