The disposal of a year.

Copying birthdays, throwing out old notes, reliving the year in 52 short flips. The shiny new 09 calendar seems to laugh at my worn and bulky 08 calendar as they lay side by side. But as the weeks pass from page to page, 08 begins to stand a little taller, realizing the crucial experience it has that the newcomer does not. 2009, so far, is all business, while 2008 may be bulky and worn, but is bulky with laughter, worn with emotion. A tough year, no doubt, but with beauty tucked in if you know where to look. And then, in late July, a simple scrawl claiming the weekend for "excitement!" I still can't quite remember what the excitement was, but in that moment I realize that despite our disagreements, power struggles, and disappointments in each other, 2008 and I had an alright run after all.

Oh 2009. I've got my coffeepot (resolve #1: no more diet coke), fancy new pens (resolve #2: keep writing writing writing), and a few jokes up my sleeve (resolve #3: stop taking everything so daggum seriously). Perhaps a bit of glamour will find its way in as well...