Dear 2014,
You and I had an odd relationship. Sometimes when you were
good you were awesome. Then when you were terrible, you really sucked bottom
worse than one of those fish who sucks bottom. Basically, you were like a
bipolar person off their meds.
The winter was harsh, one of the worst I had in some time.
You made me understand why Sylvia Plath took her own life. When you sent the
Polar Vortex, I was going through the lowest of lows. My writing, the gift I
share most with the world, was being rejected like a fat girl asking for a prom
date. On top of that, I had some career drama that was never ending.
Financially, I was lower than I had been in what seemed forever. I was passed
over for a grant, one for a project I was passionate about. Not to mention I
was given the heeve ho by a network for a project I wore a captain’s jacket on.
After that, I had a falling out with a friend who was like a sister to me. I
saw she was a jealous bitch who had been waiting for me to fall and scrape my
elbow. Did I mention you also had someone hack my credit cards and made me
broke and I was desperate to feed myself? Things got so bad, I took a promo job
for a tyrant who owned a antique store that berated me because he recognized me
from television, and rubbed it in that I wasn’t working. I walked away from
that job, but you beat my ass so badly I am still trying to recover.
The darkness gave me strength to set boundaries and strength
to fight on despite walking through hellacious uncertainty. I also got my own
health insurance. In short, dark times make you an adult. It’s undeniable.
At the same time, you gave me some things I always dreamed
of. I got to wear the captain’s jacket on a project. My writing got us in the
door. I thought it was dead, but you surprised me by reviving it. Now I am
wearing the captain’s jacket on the same project, but only with a more pimped
out set of wings. I also earned my wings in other ways. I filmed a television
pilot and began working with a manger. As far as my career went, I really got
it together. Not to mention I filmed a television pilot and got a short film
into a prestigious festival. This year I blogged for several well known sites.
I became a sports reporter, a dream of mine since my teen years. Also, I
recorded a comedy DVD and performed in theatres. These have been dreams of mine
for years. I appeared on Wendy Williams several times as well, making me a
regular on a national television show. My dream has been to be a working actor
in New York. I abandoned that dream shortly after college because the standup
doors were opening. However, this year I rediscovered that drive. You made up
for my shiteous winter by making it rain in my slowest months. Translated, I
was working at what I loved and earned my SAG/AFTRA card.
However, you also taught me that while driving the plane in
my stylish captain’s jacket gives my ego a jilt, other people need to wear
captain’s jackets, too. I learned this lesson after a mini-overload breakdown I
had in latter summer. Yes, the one where my refrigerator broke, the top part
worked, and all the food in there was making me ill. Yes, the one I had when I
was working constantly, taking a graduate level class, planning a book signing,
and trying to release a DVD all at once. Yes, the one where I went crazy with the credit card buying
things I forgot I had because I was so tired. Yes, the one where I screwed up
my cellphone minutes. The one where I screamed at God and He/She didn’t seem to
hear me. Yes, the one where I fought with a lesser celebrity sibling on
twitter.
However, you also delivered the best birthday ever, where I
delivered a telegram to a bunch of hormonally driven teen boys who thought I
was the cat’s meow. I kissed the birthday boy who’s friends got a close up. I
was afraid of that birthday, but you showed me I wasn’t just getting older but
getting better as well. In that darkness when I doubted myself you delivered
some wonderful fan letters. These came when I wanted to quit and move back home
to the easier, softer, safer life. Then you gave me the gift of getting the
video for my song “Hell No, Joe” featured on MSN.
Then I found out I was being sought out for a big writing
project and selected to perform on a show where I break a world record. It
seemed every time you made me eat asphalt you were preparing me for a bigger
miracle.
As for the loss of that best friend, well I found I had ten
other better friends in her place. I also realized that ex’s are just that, to
be crossed out. Even when their girlfriends and wives go crazy, they are nothing
more than memories. A lot of men are snakes, but a lot are good. I learned to
stop taking scraps and don’t intend to any more.
I will ring in the New Year by having a magazine interview of
mine drop, and being featured in the Guinness Book World Record Show at the
Metropolitan Room. To see it come Friday January 2nd at 11:45 pm, 34
W. 22nd. You will not regret it.
So 2014, we had the illest relationship. While I am sad you
are gone, I will not miss you. You were too damn crazy for me sometimes. I look
to 2015, and hope you are awesome. I hope you don’t give me the darkness I had
this past year. I also hope you are not as crazy, either.
And here we go on, ants marching to a new adventure. Let’s
not get squashed.
