stalking:
the beat
bookslut blog
cashmilliondollars
dude. man. phat.
defamer
jane espenson
josh friedman
neil gaiman
tim goodman
molly ivins
listen, lady...
lj friends
mastodon city
pc petri dish
theo's gift
warm your thoughts
wil wheaton
xoverboard

doing:
SMRT-TV
los angeles
knitting
web design

writing:
bookslut
ostrich ink
HEARTtaker
screenplays

reading:
John Bowe (ed):
Gig: Americans Talk About Their Jobs
Gail Simone:
Birds of Prey
Sarah Vowell:
Take the Cannoli
Howard Zinn:
People's History of the U.S.

listening:
kcrw
woxy

watching:
The Daily Show
Prison Break
The Office (US)
Lost
Kitchen Confidential
Veronica Mars

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Saturday, January 01, 2005

So, as of writing this, 2005 is about four hours and forty minutes old, but I'm awake for the moment and I meant to write something to mark the passing of time, if you will.

What did 2004 bring me? I don't know. Any number of things. A number of the friendships I started back in 2003 became real cemented honest things, as I grew to be closer with people I really liked and respected. I continued to grow stronger with the support and love my family gives me freely. I started being more adult in any number of small ways, due mostly in part to my greater exposure to actual adults, who do things like write thank you notes and bake and donate and care.

I got a job I don't hate, that puts me in daily contact with a number of excellent people, and is that much closer to what I actually want to do. And say this for it -- it's rarely boring.

My mom taught me how to knit, and I picked up binding off and purling on my own, trying out new things along the way. Knitting is a big thing for me, actually, an actual hobby, something I do for pleasure, something I do for me. And it's something I can do with my hands, something active and interesting and useful, a simple skill that can be used in so many complicated ways.

I wrote. I wrote less than I wanted to and more than I'd imagined possible, and I did it under my own volition, because I wanted to. I'm developing my rhythm now, getting closer and closer to actually being good at this. The majority of three screenplays, a few short stories, the Hearttaker script, any number of Bookslut and Ostrich Ink articles...

2004 was the year I took more chances, tried more things, became more confident, less afraid. It had its flaws, but what year doesn't? What year doesn't hold the promise of improvements to come? January 1, 2005 -- a day for optimism if ever there was one.

So auld lang syne, everyone. Happy New Year.

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