After glancing at my blog I made the realization that I haven’t posted anything substantial in months. I have, however, reblogged various niblets from Hatecation. Christmas was yesterday and it didn’t feel like Christmas to me. Where did the excitement go? Even last year, I think, there was still a wisp of anticipation. Instead, I would have preferred to watch the Star Wars & Christmas Story marathons. What would have been extra sweet is if I had the opportunity to spend time with my almost-someone, but that didn’t happen.
Well, let’s hear it for snowy weekends. This is a hibernation day. It’s a day for photo-editing, CD burning and for learning impossible song lyrics (i.e., Barenaked Ladies’ “One Week”)
So, here’s to my quarter-life crisis. I have John Mayer to thank for that term. If he didn’t bring it up, I never would’ve connected the dots to understand why the year has been made up of crazy times. (Aren’t we all just insane in the membrane?)
This year, the good died young. I thought my family portrait looked pretty happy. I cried 96 tears…no, I cried a river. My porcelain heart was hurt more than words could depict. I slow-danced in a burning room and found out that love is a battlefield (at least I didn’t try to get a man with a gun). I’m just a girl in the world, but I’m not of it. I got by with a little help from my friends who helped me reach the higher ground. I left on a jet plane more than once, but I didn’t leave my hat in Haiti. I tried walking on the sunny side of the street, but more often, I found myself saying, “I think it’s going to rain today.”
So, Good Riddance, 25. I hope I’ll have the time of my life for 26.
I expressed myself. I worked it out, so…evacuate the dancefloor, I need to go bananza (and shake my body like a belly danceahhh).