the year of trips and tolstoy

I keep wanting to write 2013 or 2015, but for whatever reason this entire year I have struggled with remembering that the calendar reads 2014. Well, it won't for much longer. Thank heavens! Kidding. Isn't that what people are supposed to say on New Year's Eve? "Thank heavens this year is almost over! Good riddance! Cheers!" And a happy and healthy New Year to you, too.

But, so far, it has been a decent year. No colossal complaints. I spent most of my 8765.81 hours recovering and reading and riding on the Matterhorn. Okay, so I only rode on it once. I didn't even ride on It's a Small World because the damn ride was closed for the day. But I did ride in an Autopia car with one of Mitt Romney's many, many grandchildren. So somehow the Universe finds a way to balance itself out. Herself. The Universe HAS to be a womyn, right? I mean, she does have a black hole WINK WINK. Ugh. Apparently this was the year I made inappropriate and not-terribly-funny vagina jokes on a public blog.

This was also the year I had a torrid love affair. With Adderall. I am disinterested in discussing it right now. Just because. Just because I've exhausted the subject in my own personal journals and there are better things to discuss. Maybe one day I'll write a memoir about addiction, but for now I'll continue to write vag jokes and limericks.

This year I flew to Arizona to stay with a solid friend for a few days. We needed each other's company, although I'm afraid to say I wasn't the best company due to a certain prescribed pill which leaves me paranoid and kind of an asshole. A hungry, cold, jittery asshole. Anyway, Arizona was wonderful. The desert will always be wonderful. I visited one of the best museums I've ever been to and saw one of the best foreign films I've ever seen and ate some awesome fish. Yeah, fish in the desert. Maybe there's buried treasure out there in the sand underneath the unforgiving sun. Should we go find out in 2015?

This year I worked in a daycare for two months. I knew I'd only work there for two months. I just needed something to fill in part of my day so I would stay sane. Note to self: Sitting in a room for four hours with 14 infants and toddlers and Barney playing on the TV is not the best way to maintain one's sanity. Hey, at least I know now how to change a diaper. Sure, it takes me ten minutes and all of my willpower not to gag, but in the end the baby has a clean butt and I guess that's all that really matters.

This year I went to Disneyland. Like I mentioned above. And it was approximately a million degrees in the Magic Kingdom. And I got laryngitis, which was inconvenient to have while on Space Mountain. And I later drank wine and tequila and ate fish in Downtown Disney with my best friend. Fish in California? Now that makes more sense.

This year I bummed around during the summer. Of course. Somehow I always manage to bum around during the summer months. I can't imagine what it will be like when I grow up and have to actually, you know, work during June, July, and August. The horror. Seriously. Unless I am a park ranger. Then AWESOME.

This year I got a job as a teacher's aide at an elementary school. I thought my job was going to have a little bit more responsibility, but mostly I just untangle cords, staple papers, and occasionally tell 1st graders to shut up in my head. Well, it's the truth. Sometimes the truth is ugly and petty. At least I'm kinder out loud. The job, which I miraculously still have, is what it is. It is temporary, or at least that's what I keep telling myself on those hard days. I wouldn't still be there if it wasn't for the kids. They are actually quite wonderful and refreshing, as kids mostly are once you get past their obnoxious behaviors, and I love being around them. But I don't believe it's where I am needed the most.

Where am I needed the most? Anywhere? Will I continue to run after an ideal version of myself/my life until I collapse? I shall save these questions for the next post! Or the next one! Or the one after that one! Or whatever!

This year I went to San Francisco. It was the hardest and the greatest and most expensive. Did you know a plate of celery sticks at the Palace Hotel costs $17? And it doesn't even come with hummus. But aside from the astronomical prices on everything, San Francisco was a delight. Getting lost by myself in Chinatown was a delight. Wandering around a bizarre arcade and talking to nice Canadian tourists and finding myself again in a tea garden was a delight. Lost and found, lost and found. New beginnings and saying goodbye to old habits. Again, it was hard hard hard and oh-so-great.

This year I read what some might call "a fuck ton of books." My ONE New Year's resolution was to read all of War and Peace. And through the grace of God/Buddha/the ghost of Tolstoy, I finished it. I also knocked some other classics out of the park. Middlemarch! The Brothers Karamazov! The House of Mirth! And, like, so many others. Check my goodreads page if you want? If you are feeling weird? Are you feeling weird? I know some weird books that might help. They might also hurt! Books both close and open so many wounds.

I am so tired from writing about all of this. I know there's more to say. There is always more to say. Should this be part 1 of 2? Is anyone even interested in reading more of my life in 2014? I think I am. But that's just narcissism. Or healthy reflection. I'm not always a narcissist. I'm not always the best at spelling "narcissist" either because that took me at least four times to get it right.

I may be back with another 2014 post. Or not. Maybe it's time to say farewell to what was and begin looking forward to what will be. And 2015 will be the year I finally finish Ulysses. Maaaaybe. Maybe some resolutions are meant to be broken.