So, 2010, you're about to leave us.
I can't say I'm as pleased to see you go as I was about 2009 — that bastard, painful, disappointing year. Though frankly, that's only how 2009 ended; a large part of that year was filled with hope and positive change that lifted my spirits high only to have them crashing down in various places. Perhaps I give 2009 a bad rap ... and 2010, you, too, had your own moments (six months of them) of pain, sobbing, and deep dark places.
Two thousand ten is the year I turned 30 — and suffered the out-of-nowhere life crisis and mental anguish that comes with hitting a milestone and not seeing yourself where you expected to be. I end it still in San Francisco, still single, still renting and still living paycheck-to-paycheck.
However, 2010 is the year I've felt most comfortable with myself in a long time. It took nine months (and a road trip to Portland, Seattle and back), but now I'm ... well, "resigned" isn't the right word, sounds too negative; perhaps "happy" is better, almost accurate: I'm happy with where I am in life, in career, social life, even location. It's not New York — San Francisco can never be New York, and all it represents to me what with the memories and the mood and the amazing friends I have there — but San Francisco is certainly no longer a place I am unhappy to be "stuck" in. I have friends here that are amazing, a job here that is amazing, and family at a conveniently distant closeness that includes a nephew to spoil and play with, and siblings I can do things with, and drama enough to keep me entertained with relatively little frustration. There's really only one thing missing from my life here, and a move to New York doesn't even guarantee that I will get that ... plus, I lose out on the family part.
This doesn't mean, sir, that I will never move back east — I still want to — but it does mean that I'm no longer going to try to initiate that relocation on my own. If life throws something in my lap, or dangles an opportunity, then yes: I'm gone, City by the Bay. But until then ... My One True Love, we'll be together for visits. And we'll always have 2003/04. And really, all you have to do is lift a finger, and I'll be there ...
Back in January, I wrote down a few resolutions or goals for my 2010 year. I'd like to think that for the most part, I kept them. Not perfectly, of course: my second resolution, to fill those empty parts of my life, hasn't been fully accomplished ... but I do feel less empty than I did 12 months ago. I'm not the weight I was when I came back from NY, but I still feel healthier and more active than I have in ages. I don't have full financial stability, but enough confidence in myself that I'm looking forward to making my first major purchase next year (a new car: Baby's on her last legs, I think). So, I think these same goals are good ones to keep for the coming year, with a few adjustments:
1) Keep living for others; also, act on 2010's big lesson: friendships take work. I want to work harder at keeping in touch with the good people in my life, the ones I want to stick around. Facebook status updates aren't really enough, so I'll try harder to email or even call the friends I haven't talked to in a long time, the ones I actually miss.
2) Keep working on filling that hole in my life. You know who you are, emptiness.
3) Keep trying to live healthier: in body, mind, and money. I'm on my way there, sort of: opened an ING account to stash away some savings for emergencies/trips/etc., and just opened an account at a credit union so that I can escape the eviller one of the two banks that currently have my money.
Adding a couple more:
4) Get a web design certification. It's something I've been interested in for years, and my boss was able to ask around and get some input on classes/knowledge that would be helpful both for my current job and to satisfy my own curiosity/desire to know.
5) Start an Etsy shop. I just finished going through my yarn stash, and even with throwing out a few pounds of it, I still have a lot. It would be nice to have my hobby pay for itself a little bit. Even if it's just a few dollars here and there ... and I can use my new skills from the resolution above to better design my website.
Two thousand eleven, I think I'm ready for you, and I'm glad you're here. Two thousand ten, you'll be missed, but I'm not terribly sorry to see you go.
Happy New Year, friends, family, internet strangers. Thank you for being here.