[Posted elsewhere as well; apologies.]
Since the mid-nineties, Justin has been saying, ironically or not, that this is how your first entry of the new year should always be, and so it is.
- tales of new year’s festivitiesWatched three quarters of Kiffykins vs. The Beam, went to a party, had a good time.Oh, and I walked into a wall. Yeah, I’m awesome. I have a huge lump on my forehead to show for how awesome I am.
- accounting for some unfinished businessLast year on New Year’s Day, I said: I am going to take photos, dance, get a new tattoo, buy a prime lens, go to a lot of concerts, feed starving rock musicians when they’re not on tour, and watch some tall dudes who ball try to do something amazing. and Gain a paid publication credit. Shoot a band’s promo photos. Explore this amazing state I live in. Take a picture every day. Manage my money better. Get the Stump’s brakes fixed. See 100 shows. Eat a lot of club sandwiches at Linda’s. Go on the road with some of my boys for at least a couple of days. Swim in the ocean as much as possible. Take pictures of snow.
I saw a national title for the basketball team. I bought two prime lenses. I missed 100 shows due to 10 weeks of unemployment, but saw my 89th two weeks ago. Instead of getting the Stump’s brakes fixed, I bought a new car. I shot some promo photos. Until I got laid off, I ate at Linda’s at least once a week. I didn’t get paid but I did have a half page shot published in the Triad’s independent weekly paper. I posted more than 4500 photos to Flickr, though I didn’t shoot every day. I took pictures of snow, on Inauguration Day. shep. and I drove all over the state, to Charleston, to Virginia, and to Tennessee twice.
I didn’t get a new tattoo and I was sometimes crap at money management and I didn’t go on the road with anybody. But I can always do those things later.
- envisioning the year aheadStockpiling leave hours at work, all the baseball in the world, no more food photography unless I want to shoot something presented amazingly well, Bristol again in September, hopefully a crazy cave sight-seeing weekend with Ash, shows upon shows upon shows, albums by bands I love better and best, studio time with some of my boys. Living and not just surviving.I’m working on a photo and writing project for March. I’ll be 30 on the 18th of March.
- any sort of resolutionsThis year, I’m going to be happy.
- an extended and unfortunately eloquent harangueswore to myself that i would never say good-bye, so instead of good-bye, i’ll just say goodnight
- a final thought composed in silenceshep. is my partner in every crime but especially the ones involving TJ Yates, poetry portfolios, Texans, and bartenders dressed like the guys from 300; Lani has known me longer than anyone; t. is always willing to listen to me bitch and bitch and bitch, and then she gives good advice; Ash is always willing to stop and take that photo, and always willing to mediate, and always willing to offer us her family, and I love her for it; the American Aquarium boys are my favorite drunk rock stars to offer food and manfresheners to; the Holy Ghost boys opened a dozen doors for me just by loving me back; a hell of a lot of you guys kept me going this year at those times when I wasn’t sure I knew how to; and finally, Billy Donovan, who hates everyone and poops passive-aggressively, but who loves me and is always willing to sit in my lap and give me kisses whenever I need some love.
I remain, as always, thankful for direct flights, cordless drills, my family, Chicago public transportation, wireless internet, OS X, photos of Ben Browder kissing Michael Shanks, torrents of television shows from the BBC and Canadia, the new Bosh, Matt Wieters and his throwing arm and his ass, prime lenses, sunrise at the beach, live music, successful college basketball (and baseball) teams, Patrick Stump, Frank Iero, and Jon Walker, and Keira’s ass. You know. The important things.
So far 2010 hasn’t sucked!