New Year, New Nothing.

I can feel myself getting old. Seriously. The gray hairs should start growing in soon.

I remember when I was so excited to turn 16. And then I was so excited to turn 18. And then I was so excited to turn 21. Understandable, as all are "milestone" birthdays, right? And every new year held endless possibilities. Anything might happen. Wonderful things might happen. And magic and rainbows and sunflowers and pink and other cheerful things. (Or your husband and brother-in-law might get drunk enough to puke their guts all over the front yard... and the bathroom... and at the very least might provide some sort of entertainment before you start feeling the urge to crack some skulls.)

This new year? I hardly noticed when midnight came. My birthday? I woke up to a certain 4 year old's beautiful blonde-brown hair all over my bathroom floor.

I often say it's because I don't have any big milestones to which I can look forward anymore. (Apart from maybe 30 and 40 and 50, but who wants to look forward to that?) Perhaps it's not old age. Perhaps I'm just crabby and jaded and unimpressed with the world in general. Special days have begun to lose their meaning. Even our wedding anniversary was spent... well, I'm not quite sure. Actually, we may not have even done anything this year.

I think that kind of stinks. And I may have picked a crappy subject because now I just feel rather emo and lame, pondering all of this.

I say it's old age, but I hardly believe that anymore. Any of these occasions only hold as much meaning as you allow them to have. Honestly, I don't celebrate holidays, but it's nice to at least pretend that 12:00 midnight on January 1st is like a clock reset which miraculously rewinds the year and allows you to try it all over again.

No? Perhaps that's just wishful thinking.

Yet people, year after year, insist on making resolutions and deciding that their lives will be different *this* year, that everything (or at the very least, most things) will go right *this* time around. To me, it seems that every year, instead, gets more miserable and darker and more depressing. Glass half empty, huh?
Once upon a time, I was an optimist, and though I'm not entirely sure I'm a 100% cynic yet, I'm on my way there.

Perhaps this will be the year I start looking at the glass as half full again. Perhaps good things can happen and those can be the focus of my days. Perhaps I will make and maintain new friendships and finally crawl out of my insecure, socially awkward shell.

Perhaps. (:

Signing off (on a positive note?),
Alex.Is