Well, folks, another year has passed (almost, since I'm writing this mid-November to get it in on the deadline -- but just put on your thinking caps and work with me on this, OK?). This year, for me, has been quite eventful -- and a real pain in the derriere. Not that horrible things have happened, but with maturity (ha!) I've come to realize that life is not the varied cornucopia of fun that it used to be.
This year I graduated high school and entered college. Not a particularly unique thing, but as a recent high school graduate, still able to remember cliques and inane homework and guidance counselors, the black spot on my heart hasn't yet faded. Yet it was still a wonderful place -- my senior year I came out to more and more people every day, had my first crush ever (a truly embarrassing memory, for those of you reading this who actually know me -- and if you're totally unaware of what happened, I hope it's going to stay that way <looks pointedly at JT> Shhhhh!), and in general was the happiest I've ever been. I even had a retail job that (I know it sounds impossible) I liked. Aside from the little hassles, life was good this year.
And I guess life is still good. However, I no longer have that wonderful retail job, since it stopped being wonderful when our manager was replaced. Most of my friends went far, far away to college, and aside from those expensive long distance calls and my high school's Homecoming, I haven't been in touch with most of them. Note: a warning to next year's beginning college students: if a company sends you a credit card, do what one of my friends advised and I promptly ignored because I think I have will power -- fill a pan with water, put the card in it, and stick it in the freezer, so if you think you have to use it you'll have to wait for it to thaw, and hopefully, you'll change your mind. I mean, I greatly expanded my Tori Amos collection, but... <shudder> Never again...
So, returning to the beginning of this (column? story? feature? what is this?), a new year is approaching. For you generous people with money, I wouldn't mind a Macintosh for Christmas. Or a TV. Or a laserdisc player. Or cash. Etc. and so forth.
But enough rambling. In the next year I hope for the following things: in a personal sense, I hope to turn into one of those slender, muscular sex gods I so like over the summer (no, unfortunately I'm not one now). I also hope to get the hell out of the community college I attend and move on to the University of Illinois. Away from my parents.
In a global sense, I hope that those of the Religious Right get the broomsticks removed from their respective behinds and get over this whole gay-hating stuff. I'm truly tired of it. I hope that the FDA has the forethought to damn their policies and get AIDS vaccine testing started -- it's been seventeen years since the AIDS epidemic started, hasn't enough time been wasted?
And to you, thoughtful reader, I hope that all YOUR dreams and desires for the next year come true. Within reason, of course. I mean, if I can't have Paul Rudd, why should you?