Parlor: Two Thousand and Thirteen

It is a New Year. In fact, it is a week into a new year and only now am I crawling out of the woodwork, scratching at my eyes and taking in everything around me.
I ended last year differently and started this one equally as strange: I took off from work. I gave myself a vacation. I didn’t go anywhere [lack of money left me unable to hop away to places uncharted (like Texas)], but, I stayed home, cleaned out all my closets and drawers, dropped off bags of things at Goodwill and spent time quietly. I worked on Internet-things, Writing-things, Family-things. I read more comics than I had in a while, pushed myself to the gym, took a chance on some movies at the Redbox and rolled around in bed talking to my girl, fingertips wrapped around the Native Union receiver I got for Christmas like a teenager.
This morning, the entire thing ended and reality came strolling back in, leaving me helpless and a little upset, but, not entirely ill-prepared for it.
I’ve been ready. Unaccepting, but, ready.
Truth is, I wanted the year to end. While it was beautiful for a few reasons, it was abysmal for at least as many reason, if not more. In the end, the year pittered out a minor car crash, the passing of a beautiful girl I hadn’t seen in years but still remembered fondly and a few, physical accidents that left bumps and bruises under the skin. It ended with a shit word count, not enough of anything to consider a draft and clothes that have begun to pinch again in places they shouldn’t.
While resolutions come in and out of style and a week later, they seem almost unimportant, there are two of them that come to mind that seem to be the most prevalent things I can think of. They’re simple, not necessarily easy, but, worth it, I think:
1. Spend more time with the love of my life (my girlfriend Magen), my family and my writing.
2. Become strong. Physically and emotionally in the places I have overlooked for years.
I want to remember this as the year I took the effort to do the things I wanted to do, where I put my head down to the embarrassment or remarks or nosiness and became the person I wanted to be. A year to remember in words, kisses and late-late nights.
Things don’t get accomplished when you’re sleeping.
So, here, where I always feel I am starting over, I share the little things I want to do with you, because there is no better place to do it. Tonight, my arms are sore from lifting weights and my brain hurts from struggling to put words together, but, I am getting somewhere and that is better than nothing at all, I think.


