Sunday, July 17, 2011

17 was bad, but 27 was far worse.

  I have discovered that I am under a 10 year curse that requires every year that ends with a 7 to be absolutely miserable.  I don't exactly remember what 7 was like but I know that if I reach 38, I will either be invincible or brain-dead. 

17 may have marked the first time I got to spend an entire year in a state of near debilitating depression, but 27 included getting fired, redacted , being rejected by grad schools 6 times (7 if you count the letter I got from Louisiana last week that informed me of "recent changes to my enrollment status" only to be told that I was still rejected), and a few bouts of depression that were about as bad as I can imagine ever surviving.  Luckily, I'm good at multitasking* so I made sure that 3 or 4 of these things would occur at the same time throughout the year.

28 hasn't been much better than a punch in the crotch:  The morning of my birthday found me in the woods, waking up to discover that all our food, beverages, and many other supplies had been stolen.  Later that day, one of the guys in our group almost drove off the mountain and another car was attacked by deer.  A couple days later a highly inebriated bum named Floyd stumbled into our camp at three in the morning demanding beer and pork or he was going to rape and kill us all.  It was probably the second best birthday I have survived yet.

I've known for the last few months that I have failed at all of the most important of my year's goals.  Sure I read 28 books by June and shat from the branches of a few trees, but all the biking, grad school, and leaving Redding business is out for 2011.  So fuck my previous list and fuck all new year's resolutions that coincide with the calendar year.


Andrew's List 28

Read 52 books
Write up book reviews for them all
Quit smoking
Fix both mopeds
Learn Tai Chi
Learn to play 'Happy Birthday' on the banjo
Learn to solve a Rubik's cube
Learn to love Redding/burn Redding to the ground
Apply to Grad School
Get within spitting distance of 200 lbs
Learn to spit farther






*no I am not.