Bitches Get Stitches

my best friend told me that i should write a proper year in review. being that she is my role model, i try to always follow her advice.

frankly, a year in review post is probably something someone should plan in advance to do it real justice. but everything i do is last minute. why should this be any different?

the researcher in me says i should go back, review my posts, and try to create some semblance of order. instead, i’m working from memory. i’m going to lie back in my bed, nurse this hangover, and you’re going to bear with me.

last year i travelled to portland for the summit, new york city for my birthday, rhinebeck for the star power, maryland for the sheep and wool, chicago for the memories, and pittsburgh cuz i couldn’t cut the cord. not too shabby. i now know why i’m always broke.

last year i almost died. for the two weeks i was in the hospital, i couldn’t eat, and i lost about 15+ pounds. i had a very rare second round of appendicitis (don’t even ask, i’m just weird) that required two surgeries to fix. i remember them putting in an ng tube and projectile vomiting green poison from my stomach that made that scene from the exorcist look like a sneeze. i think about that experience and how lucky i was to survive. i’m grateful the surgeries worked or i’d be carrying around a colostomy bag and i’d still have a tube up my nose. my stomach now looks like i was stabbed several times, my cute nose (the only facial feature i liked) has a scar from where the tube rubbed it raw, and if i ever want my lip ring back in, i’ll have to get it repierced. but i guess it was worth it. i’m still here.

last year my dad almost died. he flipped his car and injured his brain to the point where he needed minor surgery to relieve the pressure. he lived, thankfully, and only my mom and i can tell that he’s just a little bit different now than he used to be. luckily he was always a weirdo so no one else will notice.

last year my grandpa almost died. he fell and broke his back. he’s almost 90 so it’s not that big of a surprise, i guess, but i don’t have the words to describe how terrifying it is to see someone in so much pain that they are no longer mentally coherent. i remember my first instinct was to run away, and how ashamed that made me feel. he made it through, and his cranky ass now lives with my parents. the cats like to sleep on his pillow.

last year, somehow, my mom got us through all this. she’s a tough cookie. i like her a lot.

last year i had my first proper boyfriend, i guess. i never really wrote about it, or talked about it with my friends much. he is a good guy. he bought me my favorite ice cream without me asking. he would drive me places because he new i liked not having to drive. it ended. it was my doing.

last year a crazy lovely lady in colorado named an alpaca after me. he’s funny and special. he does me proud.

last year i danced my freakin’ heart out with tina newton. that bitch can boogie!

last year i sent my clockwork out into the world to see where it would go. it’s stopped for a long time with one person. i don’t mind, really. maybe it just wants to live there for a while. i know who she is. i’d probably hang around there too.

last year i moved into my first apartment by myself. it’s kind of nice. i don’t wear clothes often. i remember when i was young, i promised myself that, for the first year in my first apartment, i would put a desk at the window and smoke to my hearts content. i have broken this promise. i’m sure that makes my mom very happy.

last year i was terrified to leave pittsburgh. it was the first place since leaving my childhood home that i felt was home. i was terrified that leaving would be a mistake, that my goal of getting a phd wasn’t what i really wanted, that i’d be trapped, and i’d be leaving all these new people i cared about for no reason. i was wrong. i really love my program at michigan state. i have an amazing cohort who really supports each other. i made the right decision.

i know lots of other stuff went down, but i think that covers the big shit. all that really matters is at the end of 2011 and taking my first steps into 2012

i am happy.

finals time = maximizing procrastination.
which means it’s time to write a blog post, right?

in less that two weeks,
i will be twenty seven years old
(twenty seven? fuck i’m old).

this is the age my mom was when she had me.
i’ve always thought it’s cool that, on dec 18, 2011
i’ll have been in my mom’s life for as long as i haven’t.
(does that sentence make sense?)

kinda weird, right?

it also makes me think of those big life goals we’re supposed to reach:
careers.
monogamy.
babies.

i’ve gone on about it before, so i won’t again.
it’s just one of those times where still being in school
and watching your bank account dip under $100 every week
makes one question if they’ve taken the right path.

in moments like this,
i turn to my alpaca namesake
who is a constant source of smiles here at bgs central.

he’s an unusual alpaca, so i’m told,
(though what constitutes a “usual” alpaca, i’m not sure)
and apparently very friendlythere is no joy in the world like knowing
that, in less than a year on this earth,
the alpaca that shares my name,
is already having three-ways.

my work here is done.