2008 in Review
It's that time of year again, girls and boys.
This year in review, as documented in the first and last sentences of every month.
JANUARY 2008:
I wanted to kiss him last night but everyone had to leave before midnight and I was asleep before the ball dropped.
...
that's all.
FEBRUARY:
I don't really know what to say about what's been happening in my life lately.
...
I am so tired of being alone.
MARCH:
Maybe there is something wrong with my choice of silence
...
I'm supposed to read Richard III tonight since I have a quiz on it tomorrow but I'll probably just do that in the morning.
APRIL:
I'm sitting on a hard, cold bench that could maybe be a bed if I was tired enough.
...
What if I'm holding out for something that doesn't exist?
MAY:
The last 12 months were the biggest suckfest of my life.
...
Being put on a pedestal just makes you afraid of falling...or jumping.
JUNE:
No one slept in my bed last night and i'm still waiting on lunch.
...
I really love my friends.
JULY:
I really, really, really really really love my friends.
...
windfall, sudden gold.
AUGUST:
We speak just loudly enough to be heard over the breeze through the rolled-down windows, but we laugh louder than that.
...
They're serving desserts (I'm baking cookies) and we're going to watch the acceptance speech and probably cry.
SEPTEMBER:
So much has happened since the first, but the only thing that has really changed is my perspective on a couple of things.
...
The way it sounded, the way it felt, the way all of us in the car looked at each other without saying anything because that was a person, wasn't it? A person.
OCTOBER:
This weekend I realized I'm the least happy I've been in years.
...
So what's the problem?
NOVEMBER:
In an effort to cheer myself up, I'm thinking of taking myself on a date to see Ani DiFranco next Sunday at Symphony Hall.
...
You know,
for all the talk I do about how much I love living in Boston, I'm pretty sure I won't live in a city again after next year.
DECEMBER:
I envy them their public love.
...
I'm an asshole.
This year in review, as documented in the first and last sentences of every month.
JANUARY 2008:
I wanted to kiss him last night but everyone had to leave before midnight and I was asleep before the ball dropped.
...
that's all.
FEBRUARY:
I don't really know what to say about what's been happening in my life lately.
...
I am so tired of being alone.
MARCH:
Maybe there is something wrong with my choice of silence
...
I'm supposed to read Richard III tonight since I have a quiz on it tomorrow but I'll probably just do that in the morning.
APRIL:
I'm sitting on a hard, cold bench that could maybe be a bed if I was tired enough.
...
What if I'm holding out for something that doesn't exist?
MAY:
The last 12 months were the biggest suckfest of my life.
...
Being put on a pedestal just makes you afraid of falling...or jumping.
JUNE:
No one slept in my bed last night and i'm still waiting on lunch.
...
I really love my friends.
JULY:
I really, really, really really really love my friends.
...
windfall, sudden gold.
AUGUST:
We speak just loudly enough to be heard over the breeze through the rolled-down windows, but we laugh louder than that.
...
They're serving desserts (I'm baking cookies) and we're going to watch the acceptance speech and probably cry.
SEPTEMBER:
So much has happened since the first, but the only thing that has really changed is my perspective on a couple of things.
...
The way it sounded, the way it felt, the way all of us in the car looked at each other without saying anything because that was a person, wasn't it? A person.
OCTOBER:
This weekend I realized I'm the least happy I've been in years.
...
So what's the problem?
NOVEMBER:
In an effort to cheer myself up, I'm thinking of taking myself on a date to see Ani DiFranco next Sunday at Symphony Hall.
...
You know,
for all the talk I do about how much I love living in Boston, I'm pretty sure I won't live in a city again after next year.
DECEMBER:
I envy them their public love.
...
I'm an asshole.