What are You Doing New Year's Eve?

In the waning hours of 2010, I considered going out in response to a solid invitation to one party and the probability that any number of my friends would be ushering in 2011 in the ATown. In light of last year's epic fail, I had compelling reasons to attempt to start off the new year in finer form. I considered the old superstition that what you're doing as the calendar starts over sets the tone for the coming 12 months, and I certainly wanted to be on better terms with the impending '11 than I was on its decade-capping predecessor.

It ended up that, even though Reese came down with the flu earlier in the week, the family was able to make it to my parents' house for our belated Christmas celebration. This holiday confusion (otherwise known as the Christmess) does tend to make for a difficult time truly enjoying New Year's Eve. And as it turned out, with relocating my bed to the new house and the kitchen remodel, we were short sleeping arrangements at Mom and Dad's, so Anna and me made our trek across town to spend the night at my house.

And so it was that the final moments of 2010 ticked off the clock. Anna went to bed, and I lay in my own bed, listening to the pops and crackles of fireworks outside in the night sky. I lay in the darkness and let the sad lonely year ebb away. In the silence that followed, I could almost hear the freshness of 2011's arrival. Like a sudden rush of warm air distilled in a soft white puff again the winter night, it came. And with it, sweet hope. I lay listening to the way the air changed, to the way that the light shifted, to my own breathing. I felt suddenly empty; but emptied of the heavy burden of so much sadness and tragedy. Hollowed out as it were, like midnight spooned out the lead and left behind a smooth, dark place for good things to settle.

In the stillness, I prayed for this fragile new year. I prayed that its tender newness would be allowed to blossom into something wonderful. I prayed to God to keep my hands reaching out toward Him, toward hope, toward the belief that there is plan so much greater than what I've imagined I missed or lost or let pass me by. And so I closed my eyes against the clean night sky that was already making its way toward the first day of the new year. And I fell asleep with a prayer on my lips. At home. With hope.

Half-Birthday Wishes

Today is my half-birthday. Tomorrow, this moon child officially tips out of her twenties toward her thirties. Aside from generally wondering how I got here so fast, I'm trying to decide whether or not to panic about the 30 threshold. Not wanting to be 30 would indicate that I, in some way, would rather hang on to my twenties. Upon a little reflection, I see the past decade for what it is: a learning curve that was rather steep at some points. It's a curve I think I'm ready to see plateau to a new horizon. I look back on a lot of time spent puzzling out who and where I wanted to be, muddling through the initial throes of adult life and dallying with being different versions of me. And with just six months left, I'm feeling rather like maybe, just maybe, I have finally wrestled the demons. Like David, I have fought an exhausting battle through a long night only to come face to face with God in the morning. And now, I am at peace.

So on this half birthday, I have a few wishes. First, I want to spend a little time sending off my twenties...perhaps some reflective blog posts are in the near future. Secondly, I want to avoid dreading the 30 threshold. I'm not - in many ways - where I thought I would be by now. But I'm starting to accept that maybe things beyond my imagination will make my life so much more than my small-minded visions. And lastly, I want to celebrate. My birthday has been an overlooked and under-lauded event for some time now. I don't recall most of my birthdays, and the last time I had a party, there were roller skates involved. So please join me as I say goodbye and wave hello and dream up the proper fanfare for a lady at the ripe old age of 30 - we'll consider it an addendum to my resolutions. Suggestions welcome.

Happy Halvsies to Me.

A Pretty Good Year: Resolutions

* Take a deep breath during perfect moments and really live them.

* Apologize less for being me.

* Accept my limitations.

* Let go of the past - learn from it, but know that the present and the future are where I can exercise the most control.

* Get my stupid passport already.

* Be hopeful and believe that good things exist for me.

* Write more - and write earnestly. It's time to stop holding to insecurities and just do it.

* Welcome Reese into the world with all the love I have to give.

* Embrace happiness without reservation. Love without fear. And relentlessly seek to be at peace with myself.

On My Sleeve

Even though one of my New Year's resolutions was to "blog it out", I wonder sometimes if I say too much. I've never been known for my poker face or my bluffs. Like ol' Geo Washington, I cannot tell a lie.

But there's a difference between telling a lie and telling everything you know. And sometimes, I wonder if I err on the side of showing my hand when it really isn't necessary. I wish I was more mysterious, more of the kind of person that intrigues. But the truth is, I tend to blurt out whatever's on my mind whether or not I'm asked to share it. I often say that I'm a teller - I'll tell you anything you want to know about me. I'm a walking Freedom of Information Act.

I suppose in some ways that's how I interpreted blogging it out - using the blog as a forum to sort through things "out loud." Puzzle through whatever is on my mind and come to some conclusion.

But sometimes, I think I've got my thoughts too much on my sleeve. I feel like Slim Goodbody - all my insides on the outside, exposed. Which is my own fault. No one's forcing me to tell what I tell...but is it too much? It was all good and well for Slim to have his spleen on the outside, but I wonder...does everyone wish I'd stop venting mine?

Resolutions in the Pot Nine Days Old

I recognize that we've already bypassed the first week of January without me posting any New Year's resolutions. Last year, I had a clear resolution - a resolution that was important enough to me to keep. And I did - at least, I committed to my very best effort to find the place to be happy. Not physically...not in the sense of moving or staying, of where I am...but more a state of being. And now that I'm there, I'm resolving to stay there. So this is less about resolutions and more of a to do list for staying the course I chose last year.

* Get my passport

* Travel more - am already tackling this by planning trip to SF with Nik and Jenn and Cleveland Rocks with Kim

* Practice my photography (on subjects including and other than Dillon)

* Stop being afraid of new people

* When I say, "Someday, I'd like to..." really think about when someday might be and how to get there

* Buy (yipe!) a house

* Be kind to other people

* Have perspective - about blessings, about all the things that could happen that don't, about all the places I'm not, about all the places I am

* Learn

* Get to work on time more often; leave work on time more often

* Snuggle Kudzu every day

* Blog it out

Good Fortune vs. The Omen: A Collard Green Showdown

In this here southern part of the country, you're supposed to eat collard greens at the new year in order to boost your wealth and good fortune in the ensuing twelve-month. I'm not sure where this tradition stems from exactly - collard greens southern-style were introduced to high society by slave cooks who had learned to make do with the greens boiled in water and flavored with ham hock (a less than desirable part of the pig). But nowadays, collard greens are one of those delicacies we Southerners hold up with pride.

We had a late Christmas on Saturday to accommodate all families and in-laws and work schedules. Instead of the traditional holiday fare, we opted for soul food and our Christmas spread included collard greens, pinto beans, homemade cornbread, beet pickles and coleslaw.

Yesterday, at The Grit, vegetarian eating establishment of fame right next to The Office, I had lunch with family and had a little more collard greens. Last night at dinner, I had some of the leftovers from our Christmas meal.

So imagine my surprise, with all of this laying the groundwork for good fortune in '08, when I was awakened very early this morning by the unpleasant and all-too-familiar sensation in the pit of my stomach. After retrieving a crying Dillon from his crib (I mean, let the parents sleep. Only one of us should be up at such an ungodly hour) and administering his morning bottle, I passed him off to a just-waking Nana before heading upstairs to toss it all.

Perhaps it was just a pile up of holiday and year-end anxiety. Perhaps, as Eva suggested, it was as though my brain had been collecting these little pieces bit by bit until they became too much. Whatever the case, I was a bit discouraged by the inauspicious start to my new year. But, in the vein of being wholly optimistic about the delights of 2008, I'm going to look at it as a monumental last-minute purge of all the bad things about 2007. And hope that, with all my collard green eatin', this will be a year that I can stomach.

Declaration of Independence

You may recall that my New Year's resolution had something to do with being happy with myself. Simple enough. And yet, I find that upon close examination, I've spent a great deal of my life being unhappy with myself. Whether because of poor choices I'd made at any given time or guilt over feeling that I didn't measure up to some unrealistic expectations I'd set for myself, I've let too many days pass in self-loathing.

I want to make my family proud. I want to them to be happy with my life. Happy for my life. But sometimes, I realize that what I want and what they want are contrary. And that's okay. It doesn't make either party wrong or bad. It just means we've reached an impasse. The question is always who will give in - and it's usually me. I usually concede the point, at either the sacrifice of myself or, at the very least, at the expense of feeling like I'm a disappointment.

And so now, I'm making a declaration of independence from this endless cycle. In the spirit of my resolution, I'm forging onward with my determination to like myself - and stop obsessing over what I lack, where I fail, who I wish I was. Instead, I want to like me for who I am. To accept who I am...all the ways I am outside the box, rebelling against the group think, swimming against the status quo. Just like these guys.

Res-o-LU-tion (rez-uh-loo-shun)

Resolution is a funny word whose varied meanings include both the onset of a decision (resolving to do something) and the ultimate outcome (the final resolution). But for most of us at this time of the year, resolutions are about promises we make to ourselves that we don't intend to keep. They are the lofty goals. The proverbial carrots hung out to give us something to strive for in the coming year. We say we will lose weight, eat less, exercise more. Quit the bad and take up the good. Put aside selfish and embrace selfless. And with these resolutions, these declarations of improvement, we hope to have a better resolution to 2007.

My resolutions are usually empty, dashed off on New Year's Day to the first person who asks me what mine are with little thought to ever keeping my word. So each year, I make the same thoughtless promises about the kinder, gentler, thinner me, but end up pushing the same rock up the same hill just to have it fall back on me the next year. Yet, even with such a jaded view, it seems such an opportune time to really reflect and make change where change is necessary - to put my shoulder to the rock once more.

Perhaps my problem in the past has been making the wrong resolution - resolving on things that weren't truly important enough to abide by. And so this year, in an attempt to make progress with the rock, I'm making just one simple resolution. And that is to be to be happy with myself. To very simply recognize those things which make me happy and embrace them. To discern what is clouding my view and dispel it. To laugh more and cry less. To be good company when I'm the only one in the room.

Musically speaking, resolution is the moment in which a tone or chord eliminates dissonance. Chemically, it is the reduction to the simplest form. And for me, this year, resolution is both of those. Happy New Year, y'all.