A dedication

I've been thinking about my last post of 2011 for some time now.

Should I break it down by month, covering every minute detail of every season? No, that takes too long. Maybe I could just theme it with the event that affected me the most, like my move to San Francisco! Except, well, I moved back out in November so that's not really fun. Next in line: the brief but treacherous return of my favorite ex-boyfriend and our steamy, misguided make-out session! Yes! Lots to discuss there! Except no, oh no, because that topic is seven years old and letting it outlive the Harry Potter saga is unacceptable. (See also: Pathetic; Dumb; Lame)

I could talk firsts-- lots of people do that. I got a tattoo, spent the holidays without my brother (he moved to Colorado), went home with a stranger I met at a bar, finally paid off my emergency room bill. Or perhaps leading in with something happier would be better, like turning 27, and how my beautiful friends came out on two separate occasions to celebrate. Or how I'm starting a new job next month because the marketing sector of my future employer contacted me and more or less said they think I rock and want me on their team.

I could also write an entire novel about friendships. How they never cease to surprise, confuse, and elevate me. How they are sometimes the causers of heartache. I could tell you about how I bonded with an awesome trio of people, and that it was like finally finding the table in a high school cafeteria that accepts you because they're your same brand of crazy, not because they're particularly accepting. Or I could Just sum up that spiel with a popular Irish toast: There are good ships, and there are wood ships, the ships that sail the sea. But the best ships are friendships, and may they always be.

I'm currently in my childhood room in the East Bay. It's 15 minutes until midnight in New York City, my mother ship, and I'm watching a live broadcast of Times Square. I think instead of making a final decision on this post, I'm going to switch my brain over to Eastern time, watch the ball drop, and then fall asleep thankful for my health, my amazing friends and family, and every little thing that happened in 2011. There was loss and tragedy and tears, but no regret. And absolutely no dwelling.

In fact, I just realized that 2011 was the first raging bitch of a year that I can honestly say I straight manhandled. What a feeling, you guys!