Tag: resolution

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Post-holiday meditation

The holidays are over. It’s officially 2014. I know I said it last time this season rolled around, but I’m so ready for a reprieve from the bullshit. Was 2013 been good for anyone?

It sucks because there were so many good things and good people and good, good adventures to come in 2013, but it seems it was overshadowed by the worst: loss. I’ve abstained from writing about D, because I’m sure it is old news. But I miss her. And 2014 hit me like a bag of potatoes, square in the gut.

And then there’s gram.

It is harder to watch those you love grieve than to actually grieve yourself, I think. This Christmas we spent at my uncle’s—something new entirely. But it was ok. I mean, as ok as it could be for my family who desperately missed their matriarch.

On a bright note, I made many gifts this year. It wasn’t as stressful as I thought it would be. I took my time and I really planned it out. Block printing is a new love of mine. I made this guy for my mom. I painted that frame too! (: I hope to get better at it… it’s just so-so. But boy how fun is it! Abbie and I both have gotten into it.

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I know you’re waiting for my resolutions. Every year I railst on about all the things I want to change, how I want to be stronger, etc. Boy, do I have some resolutions. Everyone should, right? I think you have to keep growing, keep trying to grow. So by the time you’re 80… you can be awesome. HAHA. I mean. (;

I did make a little doodle, but I have a real list to come. We’re going to save that for another post. I still have some mad reflecting to do.

What are your resolutions? Have you reflected on the year?

Soon, kiddies. mt

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In with the… ew

I’ve been trying to figure out a good way to introduce the year. I feel a plague of pressure from this post, the first post of 2012. Everywhere I go, I’m surrounded by those raw, new year’s hopes: Special K displayed on every endcap; hard-to-pass-up sales on silky, sweat-proof gym clothes; and a newborn “healthy options” section on the menu of every local restaurant. Honestly, it’s as if weight loss is at the heart of every new year’s mission, and while that is how I began my “healthy” lifestyle, it’s overwhelming. I keep catching myself sideways-glancing in mirrors and shiny windows, wondering if I need to lose more weight or what I should be wearing to hide my love handles.
Where once December 31st meant getting sloshed and recovering with free Sheetz coffee the next day, the further from 21 I get, the more I feel like I’m slipping into this thing called “adulthood.” I don’t like it. These days, the new year is kind of depressing—the saying goodbye to what (already) feels like an old friend, or enemy (depending on your relationship with the past). Am I already becoming this crotchety? Listen to me! For instance, yesterday as I drove through suburbia, I spotted a few kids playing in the yard, and turned to Tash:
“Wow. That’s something you don’t see… ever. Kids playing in the yard. Do you? When I was younger, they kicked our asses outside for the day. We got to eat and piss.”
Then I stopped.
Twenty-six can’t be old yet, can it? I mean, I bought anti-wrinkle cream last night—thinking preventatively, of course. I spent literally 45 minutes in the aisle at Target. I kept walking away with something, coming back to pick up something different, going away… back again. At one point, I left the aisle with nothing. I’m sure if the employees were eagle-eyeing the cameras at that moment, they’d have thought I was insane or trying to steal shit. (I have this strange guilt/paranoid fear of clerks suspecting me of theft. What is that?)
And to really push this new year into overdrive, I’ve got Facebook friends posting the “countdown to the apocalypse” daily. Not with an “end of the word” intro… just the number, ominous, and luckily at this point, three digits.
I’m not saying I’m not ready for a fresh start. I’m just saying this year feels funky already.
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