It's been exactly one year since I pretty much pulled my pants down in traffic. I feel the need to eat cake. Not so much in celebration but more in that I really freaking love cake.
This has been a weird year. Some good, some bad. I've had some really cool opportunities, met some really amazing people, made some people laugh and found out what some people are really all about (note: it's not the Hokey-Pokey). I don't want to focus on the bad stuff so I'll just say that I have been amazed and humbled by the unexpected. Sometimes the amazement wasn't so much a good amazement as it was the type of amazement that requires therapy and the being humbled is somewhat akin to being horsewhipped. But still, I'm glad for it. It helps me grow as a person or some crap.
I haven't written anything of substance for quite some time (some people would argue that length of time is EVER), but yesterday I figuratively picked up my pen and put some words down on a fiction project I'm working on. A friend of mine inspired me to write again by telling me how he had given my book to someone over the weekend...called it my "fabulous" book. I hadn't felt fabulous about it for a long time. But that helped. Nothing may ever come of it since I sort of suck at fiction, but it feels good to write. It feels good to know that people care, even just a little.
I thought a year ago that my life would change. It did, just not in the ways I expected. I'm still working out if that's good or bad, but today I'm focusing on good.
So Happy Birthday "No Home Training". That's what I called you before I found out that only Southern girls know what that means.
*Alternate title: No one cares.