My birthday just passed, and like at New Year, I find myself taking stock of where I've been and where I'm going.
Twenty-two was far from spectacular, but a whole lot of crap happened. I spent my birthday canoing with the boy I thought I'd marry; he left me before I'd even made it to my half-birthday. I was unemployed, but ended up working for a wonderful small business. I traveled the Southeast a lot. I organized the prop room at USM. I experienced folk art and beer in Louisiana. I drove the Natchez Trace. I hiked Stone Mountain, and stopped at a watermelon park in middle Georgia on Thanksgiving Day. I spent Christmas in rural Arkansas with Mormons (not recommended). I got my heart broken. My best friend moved in with me. I learned of the greatness of Athens, GA, and AthFest, and The Grit. I got a bunch of new traditions, from the pub where the bartenders love us, to a standing Sunday night at the Mountain Stronghold. I got a way better apartment. I started a self-portrait project. I celebrated best friend's birthday on the beach in Flori-bama. I reconnected with my college sweetheart. I made lots and lots of plans.
I'm utterly convinced that twenty-three can only get better. Look out for: more traditions, like mid-week movie nights; hanging the Division Champs banner at the opening Thrashers game; birthday trip to NYC for some Neil Gaiman-related goodness; holiday trip to London and various other European locales; flight-booking for Rome; other long and winding roads; plus good times galore with all these wonderful people.