Robin, at Farewell Stranger, is awesome for many reasons. One of those reasons is her awesome idea of memorializing the years with pictures. I memorialized 2011 here. You can link up here through January 4th. Peace out, 2012. You kinda sucked a big fat one. Don’t let the door hit you in the ass on the way out.
The Bloggess took us on the crazy train to Awesome Town with 50(plus 201) shades of Juanita. I couldn’t resist joining in. I gave a shout out to the whole world, Trifecta’d, took some pretty pictures for a Newspace class, fell in love with The Voice, got So Emotional. My kid was rad sauce on toast. Pretty much the ushe.
Depression had me for lunch. It was, however, a light lunch. Spoiler alert: the fucker came back later for dinner. And holy fuck, was he hungry. There was more Trifecta’ing, my Top Ten movies of 2011, more pretty pictures and more of that guy.
The super kid turned three. It’s kinda a big deal. I hosted a bash for tiny superheroes complete with identifying capes and sparkly black masks. Somehow I made it to 500 posts. A feat that will not be replicated in a similar timeline due to the whole crushing-and-debilitating-depression-sucking-my-soul-and-will-to-lift-my-ass-off-the-couch thang. We tiptoed, mourned the loss of my Tree Hill family, played with actual real, live snow. I started medical billing and coding school. It was not an experience acquainted with awesome. Oh, and I became an editor at Trifecta, a weekly writing challenge. It was kind of a slow month.
I came out from beneath a mountain of Tootsie Roll wrappers, quit school because it quit me, fell in love with some more of geekdom and became a community writer for the Hillsboro Argus.
I wrote more for the Argus, got grateful, made cake bob ombs, learned how to not be a dick and decided to go back to school to be a diagnostic sonographer (read: ultrasound technician). I also waxed teevee orgasmic about my love for all things Montreal (read: One Tree Hill). Also, the sun came out. More than 1.7 times. Winning!
August was busy as fuck. I drank some badass strawberry basil lemonade with some Bandies right before meeting the Bloggess live and in person. Both she and her majestic boobs are as awesome as they seem.
I geeked out as a Voice of August at Rough and Rede, wrote more for the Argus, and worried my balls off about the state of the union. I fessed up to my addiction to the premium. I met Lisa, floated in a pool of bubbles in the hot, hot heat under the Texas sun and shared some spicy muffins and sweet balls.
I feared more for our union, remembered and pimped myself out as Miss December to help the Band (calendars still available at low, low prices). We camped, I Trifecta’d, remembered ye olde school dayz and started a feud with science. Also, that guy.
My favorite aunt died. She was magical. I miss her. We all do.
I turned *cough, cough* some year. Okay, forty-three. Which made me remember all those creepers who hung out with me when I was twenty saying they didn’t FEEL forty. But you ARE, Blanche. I AM. And I’m actually petty cool with it. Except for the old lady vision issue. I’m expecting my super powered vision to kick in any day now.
My friend has mad talent and the world now knows it. The election came and went, lowering the national blood pressure rate by half. My tot trotted. I may have too. Despite the strong impulse to run screaming, hide under the covers and hurl rocks I was videotaped and put on the internets. I may never truly recover.
Then the world got colder and meaner and more desolate. The world responded, as it often does in times of epic tragedy, by hearts everywhere growing three sizes. Kindness is in the world, you just have to keep your eyes open and watch for it.