So This is the New Year

Woody Guthrie’s resolutions, 1943.

& I don’t feel any different. I mean, the calendar system we use in the US is so arbitrary. I’m really more of a lunar cycle kind of girl (btw, is that series any good? I’ve never had much inclination to check it out).

Throwing it back to last year’s postĀ on this day, 2017 was chock full of THINGS. I did less traveling than the year prior, and most of it was for job interviews with airlines. Some time around the end of March I decided to give up the ghost, take some time to have a regular sleep schedule and maybe be a flight attendant again in a couple years when I’m more financially secure.

I added several more odd jobs to my list of “I’ve done almost everything for money (but I won’t do that),” and btw, I would strongly discourage anyone from working in the cannabis industry in Denver unless you’re pretty solid dealing with dickbags and shady business. I quit my job, and spent a good amount of time crying on the phone before I checked my voicemail and heard my invitation to interview for a new one

So, for the second half of 2017, I worked a 9-5 in a law office, moved from a suburbĀ to Denver proper (pretty close to downtown and “the action,” which is where I love to be), and got a lot of puppy snugs. I submitted poetry, was published twice! and closed out the year with potential and growth and all of that positivity nonsense you never hear from me.

What I didn’t do was finish anything. Does a poetry manuscript count? Even if I’ve written the majority of the pieces in it in years prior? I exist constantly in this weird pendulum swinging between trying too hard and not trying hard enough.

I’m moving next month, hopefully starting in an upward position at my company (send hopeful vibes!), and will hopefully crush it personally and professionally this year (by finishing a damn book). Even my personal life is looking pretty tolerable (although I have friendships and family to tend to, and men are trash, except the one that is currently less trash). I’m looking forward, and I hope I can drag a few friend’s gazes future-ward as well. I’ve been so lucky to not be under the constant yoke of depression and I want that for others, too.

With that, I’ll leave you with a link to Angel City Review’s current issue. I’m in there, along with a poem I wrote 6 years ago when I was bitter and angry. I’m still bitter and angry, but not in LA anymore, and less so.

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