Monday, January 2, 2012

Hello, 2012.

You are so pretty and delightful.  Gracious and charming.  Witty and demure.  There are a lot of people with some very high expectations for you.  Mainly because your older brother, 2011, had some slightly dickish tendencies.

But not you.  You are sweet.  Loving.  Gentle.  So kind are you, that despite the predictions of a certain Mesoamerican civilization who shall remain nameless, you surely will not mark the end of the world on December 21, 2012.  Among other very good reasons, it is a mere two days before my birthday.  That would just be cruel.  That's not your style. 

In 2012, I shall marry.  I shall pass the New York bar.  We might even move to New York, should all go well, and start putting down some permanent roots.  I shall embark on a fabulous honeymoon.  Perhaps there will be talk of starting a family.  Just talk, mind you.  Let's not get ahead of ourselves. 

I will start volunteering.  I will try to be a better friend.  I will strive to be in the moment and try to stop waiting for my real life to start.  I will realize that it already has.  I will try to give up the idea that things are supposed to look or feel a certain way in order to be fully enjoyed and just bask in monumental moments for what they are, as they come. 

I will start my career.  You hear that, 2012?  I will start my career. 

Help me out, won't you?