Tuesday, December 11, 2012

I'm an old man.


Here I am, sitting around on the eve of my twenty-ninth birthday, listening to random songs on not so random websites, reviewing the past twelve months of my life, and this is my conclusion:  twenty-eight was a very good year, certainly the best of my post-collegiate years.  Now it’s on to twenty-nine.

I’d be remiss to attribute the vast majority of the past year’s greatness to anything other than my wonderful girlfriend, Melissa, who has miraculously put up with me (and even seemed to enjoy doing so) for the past six and a half months.  Any year with her would be a good year.  We have had many an adventure together, and I look forward to many more.

Is it weird that I don’t feel like I’m almost twenty-nine?  Unless I’m coming off a night with too little sleep or some strenuous exercise (i.e. any exercise), I really don’t feel like an old man.  Sure, my hair continues to fall out – at least I still have some hair to fall out, right?  It could be worse.  Mostly I feel like I live in a weird state where I’m not really aware of my age nor does it make itself all that apparent.  Then again, I’ll be thirty in just over a year, and that kind of freaks me out.  Not so much that thirty is old, but that it’s hard to not think I should have accomplished more with my life by the age of thirty.

What did I really accomplish this year?  Besides the aforementioned wonderful relationship with my beautiful girlfriend, do I have much to show for my twenty-eighth year?  I continue to contribute to my team at Ancestry.com.  I did a lot of work with the 1940 US Census to help Ancestry put out not only the first complete but also the most extensive index, and I feel satisfied with and proud of my efforts with not only that specific project but many others.  Working there might not be my ultimate professional destination, but I feel like a valued employee and that my efforts are appreciated and even formally recognized within the company.  It’s been a good four and a half years there (crazy).  I mean, I kind of owe Ancestry for putting Melissa and I in each other’s path.  The cherry on top: we just won first place in the company film festival this past weekend, taking home a nice $1000 prize split between four of us.

So work is good, and I went on a couple cool trips during the past year:  to Phoenix to see Radiohead with some friends and visit my sister and her family; to Sandusky, Ohio for a week to visit Cedar Point, the best amusement park in the world; to L.A. with Melissa to visit a couple of her siblings; to Vernal a couple times with Melissa to visit my family; to Berthoud, Colorado for a couple days over the Thanksgiving break to visit Melissa’s family. 

As I list the details of the past year, I realize that it was more eventful than I originally supposed this December evening.  And then I come to my writing aspirations, those ideas and thoughts that never leave me alone and continue to motivate me to, if not write prolifically, at least remain discontent enough to never get too comfortable or complacent with my writing efforts.  As previously documented on this blog, I began rewriting my long lost novel (originally begun in December 2002, ten years ago) and eventually settled into a routine that helped me complete the first chapter in early September, coming in at just under 30,000 words.  Since then I’ve struggled to resume my routine, letting things like moving and indecision regarding the process to employ as I continue my rewrite get in the way, but I am still mildly pleased with my efforts.  I have much more to do, and I know that I need to push forward with everything I’ve got, mostly to see whether this writing thing is just a silly dream or whether it really is what I should be doing.  I vacillate between believing that I can and will be a writer and questioning my abilities and lack of important things to say.  I’ve read enough about writers and the writing process to know that I am not at all unique in having those conflicted thoughts, but the uncertainty complicates things nonetheless.

Very nearly twenty-nine years old.  Just a couple hours away now.

I look forward to twenty-nine.  Twenty-eight was a good year, and I feel like my life is moving forward at a good pace and, most importantly, in the right direction.  I still have much to accomplish and much to do to become the person I know I can and should become, but I am optimistic and resolved to push forward.

This basically preempts any New Year’s Day post I might make, but I’m okay with that.  My birthday is cooler than New Year’s anyway.  Besides, I’ll still have to write a year-end post about music and movies and all that so expect to hear from me again in the next few weeks as 2012 turns into 2013, assuming we don’t all die on December 21st.

The end.

Recent Reading Progress:

  • Quotidiana - Patrick Madden
  • How to Be Alone - Jonathan Franzen
  • The Corrections - Jonathan Franzen
  • Lamentations of the Father - Ian Frazier
  • Coyote v. Acme - Ian Frazier
  • Songbook - Nick Hornby
  • Love is a Mixtape - Rob Sheffield

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