In with the old, out with the new

I don't know how it snuck by me, but it did.

It's the end of the year...well, by our Western calendars, it is. Bloggers and journalists around the world are reminiscing about 2002, giving witty or thoughtful recaps on the year that was. Me? I plum forgot about it.

It's not that 2002 should close without some commentary by yours truly. Let's face it, 2002 was an average year. Nothing special, nothing new. Eminem was still a controversial figure. "Spider-man," a comic that's been on newsstands for 40 years, dominated the box office. Iraq and Osama bin Laden, our convenient Hitlers for 1991 and 2001, respectively, were all over the news. The only fresh, albeit suffocating, air came from knowing everything possible about J. Lo. Not exactly progress, but hey, you take what you can get.

I have no real epitaph for 2002. As a newshound, it's been reeling from one foreign policy bungle after another while watching the Democrats give up the store to Bush. Wellstone perished in a plane crash, taking the soul of the Senate with him. We've been inching toward war with Iraq for so long I forget what else this country did as far as foreign relations. Oh, and North Korea has nukes, but no one seems to care in the U.S.

Hundreds of thousands of people lost jobs or been out of work for so long they fail to qualify for benefits anymore, thus conveniently removing them from the unemployment statistics. Personally, I still have my little gig in Seattle, but was almost/nearly/this-close from two dream jobs this year. Oh well, I just hope someone who needs a job got them. Looking back at it all from my stained-glass prism of a Catholic upbringing, it's kinda selfish to have this job and then take another one (although someone would have ended up taking this crappy gig).

Still, I'm blessed. Wifey and I moved into a nice condo and started down the long, mature road of mortgage payments and muttering about the gutters. Future visits to the nearest MegaHomeStore for DIY masochists are in the works. What is it about scrimping to save a boatload of money for a new domicile causes one to suddenly want to tear out the carpets once you gets said new home? Oh well, to paraphrase the great philosopher, "I'm just glad I don't live in a trailer."

Well, the new year is almost upon us, and I know it's the new year because I'm sick again and I only get sick as the closing time bell gets rung for the year. It's my little tradition, and traditions help us feel grounded in a big, complex world, so I guess it can't be all that bad. Still, I would like to ring in some new orbit around the sun with clear sinuses. Note to self: contact that religious cult and order a clone with higher resistance to illnesses.

Maybe I'm being unfair. Maybe it's the little things that mark the year and not new homes or jobs or whatever. Greatest moment: When my wife organized a surprise 30th birthday party for me behind my back, giving me the best present of them all: people around a table celebrating in my honor. Having grown up with little self-esteem, this was one of those moments that shifts your thinking forever, something to demonstrate that you are loved, stupid. Take the compliment and revel in the memories.

On the materialism side of things, I got an Xbox for Christmas and a bunch of money which helped pay for airline tickets for my upcoming European odyssey in April 2003. I got some boss new shoes, too.

2002 was the year I tried to learn French, turned 30, decided my job wasn't my life, started this here blog, moved into my condo, began to get my head together and generally found out that I'm one lucky guy. You know, there was a point in my life when I didn't think I'd see 30. It's a long story (maybe painful or boring, depending on your latitude), but let's just say I wasn't keen about life all the time, mostly spending my days wishing I was someone else like something out of "Shockwave Rider."

Luckily, that's not so much the case anymore. If I had a to-do list for 2003, it's this: Write more, keep away from linkbotting stories about Team Bush unless absolutely necessary, revamp the blog, be kind to my wife, pay more attention to the cats, play less video games (until "Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic" and "Legend of Zelda," of course), begin to learn another foreign language, lose weight, read more, listen to different music, read up, reach out, resist now. And, dammit, pay attention.

You know, your typical New Year's resolutions for saving your soul while saving the world.
Happy New Year's to you and yours. May your God love you and keep you close in these uncertain times. Offer not applicable in Iraq, Yemen, North Korea, California, or any other locale deemed as housing "evildoers" by Team Bush or his cronies.

For my wife, I hope 2003 brings us closer together in mind, body and spirit.

For my family, although I'm not there with you guys, I love you all. Mom, congrats on the new hospital job.

For my friends, thank you for my 30th birthday. And for being there, in general. For Cori especially, 2002 was the year you got your degree. I'm proud of you. Plus, your Christmas gift rocked the Casbah.

For all of you out there, travelling the Internet Infinite and dropping in on this alpha-release burst of thoughts and notions, thanks for reading.

See you next year.