How lame am I, updating my blog when there's only thirty minutes left to go in 2008? Pretty lame. But I've never been a big New Year's Eve celebrater--it's midnight, after all, and we old folks have got to go to bed early. I did go out for curry with a couple friends here, and then introduced "That Hamilton Woman" to Kismet, although he was sleeping when Nelson uttered his most relevant line. Damn that beagle anyway.
I clicked back on "January 2007" to try to figure out what the hell I should write about. It didn't help much. Reading that was a lil' slice of badness that I'm glad to be over with. 2008 was a pretty good year for me, but January of that year was not. Cold, dark Chicago days, running around temping, no friends, wondering if I'd ever find permanency... The one bright spark I had to laugh at: Me, casually tossing out that I'd applied for a CW technician position on January 14th. Three months later I'd be in Williamsburg...
2008 has been a good year. It wasn't perfect, but unlike 2007 I finally feel like I've got a solid base underneath me to branch out and try new things, like acting, like writing, like performing, like interpreting. Things could change tomorrow, of course, but for right now I'm pretty content. I'm feeling more in control, and more like I can make decisions that will affect my life positively instead of reflexively reacting to whatever happens to me. That sounds like so much psychobabble, and maybe it is--but it's the calm honest truth, not the slightly giddy desperate tone that was used last January.
It's been a good year. A long year. I guess I'm ready for the next one. No bells, no champagne, just high-thread count sheets, a sleepy beagle and some naval literature. Bring it on 2009. I'm ready.