I prefer not to spend too much time focusing on the end of things. When I die, I refuse to have a funeral that will mourn my end; rather, I want a wake celebrating the beginning and journey of my life, and I want to be creamated so there's no rotting corpse to remind people of my end. (And while I'm discussing such things, I want my ashes to be thrown off of the George Washington Bridge in New York City, about six blocks from which I was born. No point keeping those ashes around, either, and a little bit more dirt in the Hudson ain't going to do much.)
The significance of the end of this year holds little weight for me; rather, I'm focusing on the significance of the beginning of the next, since in the first two weeks I'll hopefully begin my (part-time) career as a bartender, and have LASIK and begin life without glasses. Some time next year, by hook or by crook, I will begin a life outside of and far from Radnor and as an owner of a Miata, and all sorts of other good things I can't forsee. Eight months ago, I would have told you that today I'd be studying and, perhaps, partying in Gainesville, Florida. Damned if I know what to expect eight months from now, or eight weeks from now, or eight days or hours or even minutes from now. Life has a tendency to throw punches, and one's best bet is to roll with them.
Of course, no punch is completely unseen and every punch has the windup that leads to the blow. So, like Erik, I'll take a moment to look back on the events of this past year which will lead to the beginning of new events in the days to come (in no particular order):
2003 was the first full year of this dland, which began on September 15th, 2002, exactly five days after one ending I remember all too well.
This was the year of Senioritis, and the nearly complete abandonment of scholarly duties.
This was the year of the Dingus, who represented an extreme case of an entire group of people I am now exposed to on a regular basis. However,this was also the year of the Makowski, the Chinese History teacher who I do not speak of often enough, and a select few teachers who have inspired me.
This was the year of my second and last high school relationship, which, coincidentally, began on March 14th, the same day as my first high school relationship. (And, as it so happens, is also Erik's birthday.)
This was the year of B4, conceived exactly one year ago. This was, among other things, the year of the B4 roadtrip to Gainesville and beyond, which, on the one hand, made me glad I stayed and on the other hand made me regret it that much more.
This was the year of a mother's illness and 40 years worth of National Geographics lost and of painting and cleaning and rearranging and packing (but not unpacking - a great deal of our belongings remain boxed in our attic, and many more were thrown out for naught). This was the year of the big move that never was, a new beginning that never began.
This was my sister's year, her entrance into high school making it easier for us to put the petty sibling rivalries of our youths aside. This was the year my brother did not change at all, and the year when he aggrevated me even more.
This was THE year of the infamous Filofro, a creepy and flowered (and tacky - God, I don't know what I was thinking with that shirt) sampling of which may always be found here.
This was a second full year of Ericson, a presence which I am always grateful for. This was a year where we did not attempt to make another production, thank god.
However, this was the year I worked with Jason on a production, and there was plenty of floppage in that to account for any lack of E-son/Walbert production.
This was the year where I lost (or rather, began life without) two formally important individuals, one of whom I'll never regret and one who I probably always will.
This was the year of that silly Iraq war and all it entailed; many meaningless and inconsequential bantering with some and more meaningful discussion with others, among other things.
This was the year of Daedalus and the Mac, and when I began to feel dirty for even going near our family's Dell (fucking pop-ups and unremoveable Kazaa). This was the year when I decided I'd never go back to PC's ever again...
... because this is also the yar, er, year when my pirating skills began to really shine through. This is the year when I realized it's much easier to pirate on a Mac than I had originally intended, especially when it's slim and has a twelve-inch screen. ;-)
Ultimately, this was a year, filled with both happiness and sadness, which I suppose, according to Erik, means it wasn't a waste. As T.S. Elliot once said, "Time you enjoyed wasting is not time wasted", and... I suppose this year was a length of time I enjoyed, whether it was wasted or not.
In any case, Happy New Year to all, and I'll see you all next year.