There's always one at hand

I've found that "the year in review" is a tradition in the blogging world.

Some of the posts I've read are about positive experiences like marriage and babies and other such items.

There are one's about negative experiences, too, sometimes with the blogger learning from the experience. They've grown, and they know better now. But sometimes the opposite, too.

It's quite a bit late, but, like many other people (I hope) I'm still getting used to not writing '2011' in the date at the top of my papers, so that means it's still pretty fresh, right?

Right.

So, in reference to the late year:

I grew out my hair.

I snatched a job.

I best-friended my best friends.

I fell in love with school.

I laughed with my family until it hurt.

But if I'm to be completely honest, I must say that I look back on 2011 with a significant amount of bitterness.

It would appear that the issues it created metaphorically rooted themselves so deep into the year that there was no way I was going to yank them out of the metaphorical soil before 2012. (Even though the weather has nearly been nice enough to spend one's time gardening.)

The new year has come rolling along without much to say for itself, and I feel the same way towards it. I have not made any goals, nor it, any promises

It's a shrug-and-move-on deal.

Which is grand, because I am quite the accomplished shrug-offer. (Note: being an accomplished shrug-offer, per se, is not good.)

"...but the worst part is looking in a mirror and forgetting that my name and my face go together," said the tortoise, and it shuddered.

The tortoise's creator said nothing and opened the blinds instead to light up the inside of the tortoise's shell until the tortoise came out and drank the glass of water waiting for it.