I’m 26. Ow. That hurts. I’m the same age as my mom was when she had me and as Nick Drake when he died. Somehow I am neither dead, married, or knocked up. Knock on wood (except for the married part).

It’s been a weird year. I’ve actually enjoyed being 25, but I’m also not sad to see it go. I’m ready to move on to a new year, a new age, and hopefully new things. I’m hoping that this will be the year that things start to pick up for me.

A few highlights from the past year:

• Being totally wasted at my 25th birthday party and dancing on furniture.
• Puking in Mandi’s car on New Year’s. (Mandi commented tonight that she is the best friend ever because she cleaned up my puke, bought me my birthday dinner, and still loves me. That is love right there, guys.)
• Conquering my fear of flying. Well, not so much conquering as going through with it anyway and not managing to pee on myself.
• Meeting someone amazing, and even if things are complicated right now, I’m glad to have him in my life.
• Making an Etsy store, which I’d been meaning to do for a year, and actually working on it and making a little money.
• Not dying.

So, it’s been pretty good, but let’s get this fucking show (life?) on the road!