2018: Moving on from the dumpster fire

Well. 2017 was a full-blown dumpster fire, wasn’t it? We entered it with a healthy dose of skepticism, not quite sure what a Drumpf presidency would look like. As the days began to unfold, it made a zombie apocalypse look desirable. I think we can all agree the low point was seeing neo-Nazis marching in the street in pleated khakis and carrying Home Depot citronella tiki torches. Did that shit really happen? In 2017?

As absurd as this past year has been, it was a year of growth for me. A year when I finally started getting out of my head and out of my own way. I may be overstating my accomplishments. I’m still a little bit in my head. Like “Being John Malkovich” only without creepy John Malkovich. I pitched my movie screenplay once, and then shelved it for the rest of the year. One resolution blown.

I also set the goal to lose 15 pounds. I lost 14 by March and quit because I missed wine and jellybeans. As of today, I’ve regained 6 of those pounds, because as you know, I have attachment issues. So back to scale watching starting next week.

I made some steps forward in 2017, and took a few back. But net-wise, I’m still ahead.

I’m immensely grateful for the great group of ladies (and one guy!) who are my online posse. They push me to get out of my comfort zone, and call bullshit on me when I need it. If I ever need someone to send my enemies a box of glitter dicks, they are there. If I need to start a Gofundme to pay for a K-1 visa for a Croatian pool boy, they would set it up. They kept me sane when I was buying voodoo dolls of my archenemy this year, and I would have been lost without them through this insanity.

I did step outside of my comfort zone, which had become a cardboard box I lived in like a cat. (Insert women’s march pussy hat joke here.) This year I forced myself to go out. Not on dates, because I only allow one a year. But I finally started forcing myself to leave the house and do some peopling, no matter how painful.

One of the most pleasant surprises occurred when I got over my anxiety to go watch Chelsea with the local supporters’ club. I had followed them for 2 years, and always wanted to go meet up with them, but in the beginning I was dealing with a dog I needed to carry around and take care of and I felt that Catholic guilt of leaving her alone to go drink. Even after I was free to go, I still wouldn’t go, out of fear of things like getting mugged in a parking garage, or being made fun of for my love of Gary Cahill when he inevitably scores an own goal. And now I can’t believe it took me so long to go. They are really awesome, fun people. Anyone who goes to a pub at 10 am to drink are my kind of people. And Chelsea won the Premier League title in 2017. I don’t think it was a coincidence.

Buoyed by my trip to Iceland/Amsterdam/Bruges, I drunk booked a trip to Vienna in March. For most of the year I thought it would be a mistake, since I’m not a big classical music fan and it was lacking in quirky tourist destinations like the Icelandic Penis Museum. But Vienna was ridiculous. Any city where I could eat cake for 3 meals makes it to the top of my travel list. Add to that, the fact that all Austrian wine is organic, and I’m in heaven. I haven’t gotten around to writing about it yet. I blame my lack of writing on the “one step back” trend this year. I hope I can get back to it, but one thing I’ve learned this year is to stop doing what I “should be” doing and start doing what I feel like doing. Because I hate John Malkovich.

These were baby steps, but they’ve given me the foundation to dream bigger for 2018. Just two years ago, I was terrified to travel to Iceland alone. Now? I’m planning my third solo trip to Finland, Estonia and St. Petersburg, Russia. Please don’t tell Miss Daisy yet. I can’t handle 10 months of her freaking out about Putin. Let’s be real. If there’s one place in the world safe for Americans to travel (pre-indictment), it is Russia.

I’ve come a long way in 8 years. I now take a liver detox supplement daily. I still don’t exercise, but I bought equipment this year. We’ll see when it is delivered. If nothing else, it might make for some entertaining video posts.

I did buy that sexy underwear that was part of my New Year’s resolution this year. Didn’t have a reason to wear it yet, but next year is my year. There will be sex with someone other than myself. Maybe more sex than dates, if I’m lucky.

I’m very optimistic about 2018. I have June in the impeachment pool.

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