it’s the year 2007… there better be some james bond type shit.

december twenty ninth, 2006 

New Years Eve… *sigh*

My least favourite night of the year.  It’s amateur night, really.  And there’s so much pressure to have fun that you can never live up to your own expectations. 

It’s also a time to think back on the year… mistakes I’ve made, things I’ve accomplished, what has changed, what has stayed the same, who is still in my life, who came and went, etc. 

I’ve been thinking about it and I realize how surreal it is… last year at this time, I didn’t have the job I have right now.  I was working 15 hour days in post production for shit pay and I was miserable about that.  I was living with someone… We were unhappy together.  I was looking for a new place to live, I was looking for a new job… I was pretty much just looking for a new everything.   

Lots has changed since then.  I’ve moved twice.  I got the job that I have now in February of ‘06 and it was and still is one of the best things in my life.  I got a new tattoo.  I cut all of my hair off.  I fell in love.  I fell out of love.  And then back in love again.  And then back out of love again.  All with the same person.  Imagine that.  I spent an entire summer riding my bike through the streets of Kensington and sailing down Palmerston or Euclid or any of those other lovely Annex streets on hot summer nights.

I remember how much I wanted France to win the World Cup.  I remember when they lost.  I remember many late nights and early mornings, emerging from the depths of dirty afterhours into early morning sunlight, bleary-eyed but not ready for sleep.  There were fights with friends, with lovers.  There were afternoons spent in Trinity Bellwoods park.  Popsicles.  Parties at the Boat.  Sunrises.  Dancing at Neutral on Saturday nights, beads of sweat and heat exhaustion becoming irrelevant.  Nightswimming.  That one boxing class in July when I forgot my hand wraps and my knuckles were bruised for weeks.  Waiting all week for tap classes on Fridays at 6pm.  So many new friends.  Discovering and becoming addicted to Arrested Development.  Eating sushi in bed with my favourite boy on rainy days in June.   

Disappointments.  Surprises.  First dates.  Turning 26 at fake prom.  Slipping on a fallen sandwich board on the sidewalk outside of the El Amigo and falling flat onto my back in the rain.  And then my bicycle fell on top of me.  And I yelled at a homeless man for trying to help me up.  Breakdancers at Gypsy.  Learning how to pop and lock.  751 Queen St.  The last night at the Vatican before it closed forever. And Don Cheadle was there.   

My trip to New York.  Writing letters to someone that I never sent.  Walking from 42nd street to 125th and Lennox with knee-high white leather high heeled boots and a thirty pound backpack. Street parties in Spanish Harlem.  Playing dice in Washington Heights at 3 am. Drinking vodka coolers in front of three storey walk ups on Malcolm X Blvd.  Getting asked for directions on Madison Ave. and having to admit “I’m not from here”.  Looking at everything through the lens of my camera.  Loneliness and some tears. 

The war in Iraq.  In Afghanistan.  In Sudan.  In Lebanon.  The Democrats winning the election for the U.S. House of Representatives.   Many, many scandals.  And a few small victories.

 

All of these things.  Listing them can’t do the year justice by any means.  But now that I’ve written all of them down, it looks like I haven’t done too badly for myself afterall.  I’ve been happy.  Things were good.  Things are good. 

And what about 2007?  I don’t know yet.  But I’m going to do everything I can to make it fucking fantastic.  Yes.. My year is going to be the equivalent of a highschool kid’s spring break in Punta Cana.  Except a little less “Girls Gone Wild”.  Just a little.  

I kinda feel like Doogie Howser so I’m gonna stop now.  move on up.