Stereotypically Defiant

2005: WTH Ever

And the title pretty much sums it up for me. What the hell ever. Have you ever screwed up your life so badly that not even the façade of a new chance makes you feel better? Check that: my life isn’t screwed up all that badly. I screwed up my career, sure. But it FEELS like a serious LexiSNAFU that’s already 15 months old. And that’s just old. So I thought, why bother with resolutions? Shit’s just gonna continue rolling downhill onto the hut in the wilderness known as my life.

Why, Lexi, do you start out 2005 already in a funk, you may ask? It’s two days old, give it a chance. Well, I can’t really do that. For two reasons. 1) I don’t consider this my New Year, just yet. And 2) According to the calendar I’m following this year (Chinese Lunar), the Year of the Rooster is not going to be the best for this Tigress. So, damn, why not just look forward to 2006? Can I sleep another year away?

Sigh. Fine, let’s just go through this exercise, because apparently I’m a glutton for punishment. And, even though it feels really good to contemplate, I can’t just sleep another year away.

2005 Reso-Frikkin-lutions

1) Getting the hell out of St. Louis. Working on this one now. There’s really nothing left here for me. I have few friends, no family, no reliable work, no inspiration. I’m worse than stagnant here. And I’m sure St. Louis is quite lovely for quite a few people, and a great place to live and raise children. It’s just not for a progressive Black woman with flexible ideas about Crhistianity, who doesn’t want to get married, and thinks children are optional.

2) Finishing my coursework. Oh GOD, please let me finish this shit up!

a. Find a got-damned diss topic that won’t make me retch for the next year and half, and makes me actually want to finish it and get the damned paper and get the hell out of school. I may have to get me to a Buddhist temple behind that one.

3) Losing the gut. The spread is just ugly. Ugly.

4) Maintaining and finding more of my truths. Because they’re all I have. And I’m walking into a precarious situation: going back home. I can’t regress into my teenhood and early 20s, where I expected my parents to run my life and make all my decisions for me. And I can’t get into fights every danm day. And I don’t want to hide my liquor. Well, I’ll probably have to hide my booze. I mean, I’ve discovered some truths, but Lord knows I’m surrounded by denial. Keep it real, girl.

5) Fleshing out my pleasures. If I want to learn to DJ, dammit, I’m going to. If I want to go to Glasto, dammit I’m going to. If I want to bitch-slap a bigot (if I figure out a way to get away with it) dammit I’m going to. I need to learn to make me happy.

6) Making some critical decisions on what I want to do for the next phase of my life. Because I can’t continue on like this. I’m not living the life I’m supposed to live, I can tell. But I’m still too damned scared to chuck it all and start over. Because of those critical voices in my head. Why am I going home? Oh, yeah, broke as hell. At least I’ll pay less in rent.

Because I’m a shameless American and we love ending on up-notes, I’ll close by giving thanks, once again, to everyone who stopped by with a kind word, and some support. Thank you for the card, the comments, and the e-mails.

posted by brownstocking @ 14:53