Starting Over Again For, Oh, The Millionth Time.

It really is interesting that I don't even bother to keep up with my blog anymore, considering that I talk way to much on the Facebook.  If I just collected all of my day's thoughts into one post instead of blasting people's walls with my millions of little spastic posts, I'd be a tad bit more organized, thought-wise.  As it stands, I pretty much just write short bursts of anger/excitement/sadness/etc that happen to be mulling in my head at the moment.  Other than my story to the New Yorker (still pending, btw), it's been a while since I've really sat down and written out a long, collective piece. 

And I can guarantee I'm not going to write one now. 

And no, this isn't me being silly or spiteful.  It's me being a combination of the two.  It's also me running on only three hours of sleep in the last 24 hours.  It's me still recovering from the beating my liver took last night.  It's me trying to listen to Judge Judy episodes on the internets while I think of something worthwhile to write about. 

It's me being spastic, just in a different venue.

Well, let me try to get a handle on things.  As this is New Years, I suppose I should be concentrating on putting together some sort of laundry list of things that must be accomplished.  I'm not doing that.  Because I'm honest with myself: unless it's something that I can complete in a day in between grocery shopping and sorting the mail, it's not worth adding to the list.  I can't make long term goals on New Years because they're usually silly, superficial goals that I should be doing anyway.  And I figure I'll either get around to it or I won't.

Negative?  Yes.  Lazy?  Well, I do dislike most things that require too much of my energy (with "running" being first and foremost on that list).

But, as I am very excited about some of my and Halbastram's prospects in the new year, I will offer up a few of my hopes for the next twelve months:
  -a published story
  -a new residence on the east coast
  -repaying all of the people who have helped me out over the last twelve months.

Twenty-twelve was a trying year- just a bastard of a year.  And Halbastram and I experienced life from an angle I hope to never have to see again.  People may go on about how hard life is, but they haven't had my husband's summer.  But we're putting that behind us.  I'm an especially superstitious person, so tradition should dictate that 2013 will be tremendously evil to me.  But I will not be defeated by a couple of numbers.  I will own 2013 (hopefully for a fair price, because I can't afford anymore debt).

So, to my friends, family, associates and lovers of Glen Lerner commercials, I bid you a happy new year and a prosperous 2013 and a World Series win for the Tampa Bay Rays.

Peace.  Love.  And Mazel Tov.