tammytoes

It was more than a year ago when I had brunch with my two Brooklyn Es at the Dumbo General Store and talked about the relative length of a year.  52 weeks?  I kept shaking my head, running the palms of my hands along my cool bottle of soda.  52 weeks?  How can anyone get anything done in 52 weeks?  We have so little time each year!  I kept exclaiming it to my friends, who laughed with me.  But I haven’t gotten over it, really.

As these 52 weeks draw to a close, I’m still completely bewildered.  What happened in all that/so little time?   This is about when the same time last year when I said, with unswerving confidence, 2008 will be a great year.  I knew it.  I know it.  It was.  Even when it sucked, it was great.  Considerable.  Appreciable.  Whopping.  Important.

2008: the year I learned how to write a joke.

I embraced the love right in front of my nose and the object of it.

I made some sort of stupidly successful go at this self-employment thing. So I made my own huge tax bill.  I made my own jerkface boss.

I flattened out my spine and sat in my chair too long and gave myself a chronic back condition. And was in constant pain for more months than I’d care to count.

This means that 2009 will have to be the year that I fix my bad back.

I networked. Oh man, I networked.

I never got over my indecisiveness about my hair.  But I learned to love accessories.

I went to the south for the first time, proper.

I started writing The Female Gaze, which is a plan I hatched at that same Dumbo brunch over a year ago.  Yay.

Moderately famous people let me ask them questions.  And they answered.

I volunteered, and realized how much I missed it.

And there were lots and lots of good times.  And too many times I didn’t have fun because I was too busy.  2008 was not a year that I achieved any kind of balance.  But, I lived through it and I’ll learn.  More learning, 2009.

And going into it, I have no cavities.

So.  It was great.  And 2009 will be so much better.