The parting thoughts. Unless I drunk blog later tonight.

There’s always something a little melancholy about the end of the year for me. I see other bloggers feeling it too, even if they’re not all entirely aware of it.

While there’s always the exciting promise of the new year ahead, it’s tempered with the minor regrets of the current year – goals not yet achieved, organizational projects tossed to the curb, taxes still not in order.

I did not sell a screenplay. I did not even attempt to write a screenplay. I did not make my bed more than a dozen times. I did not get a whole lot of use out of that zoo membership. I did not read The New Yorker avidly each week (but boy I feel cool just thinking about it). I did not turn off the TV nearly enough. I did not “work my abs.”

In fact, I did not exercise even once. Unless you count the time the elevator was out and I walked the four flights up to my place.

Yeah actually, I think I will count that.

So I work so hard each year to remind myself of all things that happened that make me feel good, the little things that add up if you think hard enough. Like keeping my head mostly together during an insanely trying year. Remembering a few birthdays and anniversaries here and there. Making it to forty which is way better than Jesus ever did, that slacker. Calling my grandmother just because. Hearing from a long-lost high school friend. Taking a big honkin’ leap of faith into the freelance arena at a time when all signs point to You are Insane. Having a family that loves our girls more than life.

And then I remember that even the really teeny things have value, those little snapshots that might be forgotten if it weren’t for cameras and blogs and a few functioning brain cells.

Like baking cookies with Thalia until 9PM and letting her dip them in the chocolate all by herself. And watching Sage taste snow or throw leaves or grab a cat’s tail for the first time.

There’s always time for The New Yorker I guess. Next year. Or not.

Happy happy everyone.

{27 Comments}

27 thoughts on “The parting thoughts. Unless I drunk blog later tonight.”

  1. Happy New Year. I’m in 2009 and I can already tell you… it is much like 2008. Savour the wonderful moments (like the long lost high school friend).Did you see him when he was in NY?

  2. I’m thankful for many things in this year, one of them being able to work with you again after many, many years. Regrets? I’ve had a few. But, really, those people who do check off their entire “to do” list don’t seem all that happy to me.I hope you have an awesome grown up New Year’s night.

  3. happy 2009… and there’s nothing wrong with a little drunk blogging… just make sure you have a designated reader 😉

  4. I’d join you in some drunk blogging, but I’ll more than likely stay awake just long enough to see the ball drop before crawling into bed. My husband is already asleep! My only goal for 2009 is to get my review schedule organized and keep my inboxes under control. Happy New Year!

  5. Sometimes I think my year was like that children’s book, “Alexander and the horrible, terrible, no good, very bad day.”And then, like you, I remember all the little things and realize it wasn’t such a bad year after all.

  6. Happy New Year, my dear. I think I exercised once. And then I chased my son around a lot, but I don’t think that counts. I plan to exercise at least TWICE next year. Maybe we’ll have a good dance party at BlogHer 09!

  7. What’s “exercise”? I paid for a gym membership and used it maybe 8 times! I’m trying to look for the blessings in 2008 and realize that there were many. For example, we were unable to sell our house, so I didn’t get to buy the house that I loved – but now my husband’s company is downsizing and we don’t know what is happening with his job. So it’s a blessing that we didn’t buy the gorgeous house that was at the top of our double-income price range. Of course, my biggest blessing is my son. He is happy and healthy and doesn’t give a damn that mommy’s financial portfolio tanked this year. I’m OK with that.Happy 2009!

  8. happy new year, liz. i still adore you and your blog, even though i’m never around to show it anymore. i console myself by remembering that you have hordes of fans to fawn all over you in my absence.(cue the “who the heck is this person?” look, with one eyebrow raised. ha, i love when you make that face!)(wait, i might be thinking of someone else who makes that face… yeah, it’s this stuffed animal i have. forget i said anything.)

  9. Seriously. As for the New Yorker — I dropped my subscription after realizing not only was I not reading it, but I live in Kansas City and all my friends would laugh at me anyway. 🙂Here’s to a lovely 2009!

  10. Take it from me – there’s plenty of time for the New Yorker when the snow-tasters and cookie dippers are in their dorms studying for finals. We do what we can and choose well, we hope. You’re doing brilliantly, I think.

  11. The fact that you wrote about drunk blogging in your headline is just one more reason why you are one of the coolest people on this planet. It’s a fact! Hope to watch/dish some trashy reality TV with you in 2009!It’s a shallow goal but it’s a goal, right?

  12. LOL… I have to laugh at the “four flights of stairs” line as it brought back my memories of living in the city and both of the apartments (east side and flat iron) I lived in were 4th floor walk-ups. God I was so in shape. Cheers to 2009!

  13. Thanks for reminding me it’s more important to be there for the moments, than trying to organize and get printed the 1,529 digital pics I took in 2008…even if I’m amidst entire meals being flung from the table when the answer to Jack’s request for a sucker for lunch is no. God made them so darn cute to get us through the terrible two’s. He just better remember to stick around later this year when #2 rounds that bend too!

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