So, here we are, the end of another epic year in the life of Brainygirl, our urban superhero, everysingleneuroticwoman, voice of reason and insanity...
And it was an epic year, when you think about it...
January: moved to the Big Apple to start my new life. It started.
February: began internet dating with a vengeance, met all manner of trolls, geeks, freaks and losers.
March: start dating fucked up divorced dad with baggage to spare. Things are going well. Natasha visits, I ride a horse for the first time, we attend the 4+ hour russian opera Mazeppa.
April: fat fucko breaks up with me in most heinous manner (i.e. sleeps with me then never calls me back...until two months later, to which I never reply). I go to Lyon and Paris! I am famous reasearcher in manner of Marie Curie!
May: memorial day weekend: a haze of wine, booze, gourmet cuisine and other forms of debauchery for 5 long hot days in the Hamptons. I feel like life is beautiful, perfect, I am actually truly, strangely happy.
June: my best friend's husband dies suddenly and life as we know it gets turned fucking upsidedown. In my veil of despair I meet Chris and Matt, fall madly in love/lust and am truly happy for about 48 hours.
July: the weekend of the 4th, I excruciatingly have by heart broken, then start my soul-crushing fellowship. I begin my descent into true misery.
August: I discover tango dancing and feel like there is hope for my wasted soul.
September: my baby cousin gets married. Joy, bliss, happiness. I feel more depressed than ever and am certain I will not meet anyone. I find religion for a few seconds, actually attending shul on both Rosh Hashannah AND Yom Kippur (oy).
October: Nothing really happened. I studied. I hated life. I met a 24-yr-old dentist and had a blissful 48hours. Then he never called me again. Right. No pattern here.
November: I wrote my US board exams. Still no results, yet...I flew to Argentina with my best friend. We had the time of our lives. I have never been happier, yet still cried every day, realizing I hate my job, my career, all of it, and have no idea where my life is going. She meets the man of her dreams and falls madly in love (yes, this is the same best friend whose husband just died. I know, it is hard to believe, but true). I meet someone. Someone potentially interesting and datable and who knows what else-able...the jury is still out on this one...
December: I work more days this month than I have off. Life sucks. I spend xmas alone for the first time in many years. I don't even have time to celebrate Channukah except to steal a latke from some hospital show.
2006 was supposed to be my year. I felt it would be "lucky", that great things would happen, that New York would change my life, I would have this fabulous career, I would fall in love, and everything would magically repair itself, past wrongs would be righted, all of the shit that has happened to me would melt away and I would shed this cloak of despair I am so fond of donning. It didn't exactly happen that way...
Sure, my life has changed, so much, and it continues to do so every single minute of every day. I have no idea where I will be in a few months, and that is exciting and scary all at once. 
I have no real hopes for 2007. It'll probably suck, just like every other year before it. Ups, downs, mostly downs (although, apparently it is Year of the Boar! Yay! Pigs unite!). Do I create this? Do I bring all this shit upon myself? Am I just a negative person who attracts bad luck? Jesus, I hope not. A friend told me today that I need to relax. I need to let go. I need to just have lots of sex and not give a shit. Yeah, well, aside from him trying to get into my pants, it wasn't bad advice, only I can't follow it. I am who I am. Uptight. Nervous. Anxious. Frigid. I've just been hurt too many times in too many ways to relax. And bad things have always happened to me, things I had absolutely no control over, and these things have scarred me. All I need is one good thing, one good person who is trustworthy and will not break my heart into tiny shards. But who is he????? WHERE is he????? He's taking his sweet fucking time, I'll give him that.
Mostly I've been sitting around on my couch watching movies. I forgot how much I truly love films, and being around this new guy, Mr. Filmmaker himself, made me realize that I can watch cool indie films on my own, I can buy stuff from Criterion Collection and be just as cool, like Ghandi says, right: Be the cool fucking jerk you want to date, so you don't have to (or maybe he said Be the change you want to see in the world, but it's all the same...). Anyway, Babel was absolutely incredible, Crash was really amazing and surprising, Little Miss Sunshine was poignant and sweet and quirky, The Oh in Ohio was smart and sexy and just great. I saw lots more, and think I'll renew my Netflix subscription after all...
I have no energy to go out, see friends, do much of anything, including tango. I was really sick over the holidays, and now still feel sick: physically, emotionally, homesick, heartsick, lovesick, sick...all of it...Maybe it's the transition, morphing into a new year, writing new numbers out, 7, supposedly lucky...ha.
Despite this ennui, I am actually hosting a little party tonight. Yes, given the state of my New Year's Eve last year (ahem, blind dates, wandering through NYC in the freezing cold, hanging out with someone I had a crush on and his inane bimbo girlfriend until 4 am, dancing at a deserted club with drag queens, then talking to a 21 gay boy until 6 am...NOT exactly my idea of a good time). SO, this year I am taking matters into my own hands, party chez moi, then on to La Negrita for their New Year's bash. Low-key, close to home, wearing a fabulous dress, but not trying too hard to impress (what is the point anyway???? No one ever cares that I have bothered so intensely to look pretty). This is the final test for The Boy: he's hedging, saying he may or may not come, depends on when they get done editing the film (deadline for Tribeca is tonight at midnight, apparently), but I swear, if he is not here by 11, it is O-V-E-R. I don't need this shit, constantly wondering, hanging by a thread, yeah, the crumbs were delicious, now move the fuck on.
Resolutions for 2007:
1. Exercise: run, yoga, tango dance, do something
2. Floss more (every year, the same)
3. Do what makes me happy, not what I think I should be doing
4. Meet someone who makes me happy now, not someone with potential to make me happy who is being a total dick.
5. Finances: fix them
6. Phone my family more often
7. Have more (some/any) sex and don't get crazy about it. Orgasm =\ love
Alright. Seven sounds like a good start. Reasonable. Achievable. Nice.
I hope everyone learned something from 2006 and that 2007 proves to be a welcome change, a fresh start, a new new year for us all.
Happy 2007, chica! Hope you're having a fun night. We old married losers are in our pajamas, ready to crawl into bed...
Posted by: brownamazon | January 01, 2007 at 01:01
New Year's Resolution #8:
Drink less...
:P
Posted by: brainygirl | January 01, 2007 at 15:40
Soooo??? How did the party go? Any better than last year (I hope)?
Posted by: ethan | January 03, 2007 at 09:57
I spent my New Year's working at the Cafe, pulling a 12-hour shift. Fearing the staff would forget my Kristal and M&C, I pounced on any brimming flutes brought my way. By countdown time I was flying like Peter Pan, and desperately trying to keep up with the volume of stuff headed my way. Oh no! The busboys didn't forget me - more M&C on an empty stomach. And the lovely rose version, too! I'm only too glad to see 2006 go, peeps!
Posted by: benjira_kaiju | January 03, 2007 at 16:09
Benji's NY Resolutions:
1). Cause more road rage.
2). Bite off all my finger nails.
3). Spend my summer vacation in cyberspace.
4). Spend more time at work.
5). Ride a mechanical bull in drag (Zarya, can you spare a dress?).
6). Become a slut.
7). Take a chainsaw-juggling class.
http://resolution.geek-foo.net/gen.php
Posted by: benjira_kaiju | January 03, 2007 at 16:20