Dawn Is Me

o/~ What are you doing New Year’s,
New Year’s Eve o/~

Speaking personally, I’m doing what I usually do on New Year’s Eve and most of the rest of the year, too: I’m feeding people.

We’ve already had dinner. Right now, there’s an apple pie in the oven. In a little while, I’ll break out the chips and dip and fruits and veggies.

And the holiday punch, too, of course.

Once I’ve spent some time sipping on holiday punch, I’ll be back in here to share my annual sodden musings on 2010, the Year That Was and 2011, the Year That Will Be.

TTYL

—–

LATER

So, I’m still not as drunk as I want to be but that’s probably a good thing.

Looked at objectively, 2010 was a very good year for me in every way except financially.

It was a good year for me in terms of my participation in the state Democratic Party. I participated in my very first nominating convention, which involved no real choice and no suspense whatsoever. But I met a bunch of people and had a lot of fun. That counts for something.

I had a successful run as county coordinator for the Cuomo/Duffy campaign. Cuomo carried Delaware County, which is saying something because this is some pretty red territory here.

I was the recipient of the 2010 Public Policy Award from Women Impacting Public Policy (WIPP), which was a tremendous honor and some great ego fodder. I was also asked to serve another two years on WIPP’s Executive Advisory Board, another tremendous honor.

I successfully persuaded the Executive Committee of the NYS Democratic Rural Conference to appoint me to a vacancy on its Board of Directors.

And I have managed to navigate the mine-field of our stupid Town Supervisor’s stupidity and come out of it with me and my party smelling like a rose.

I have completed my first semester at Hartwick College, which is a bit of a triumph considering that some people advised me not to even apply to a four-year college. They said I should go to a two-year school and then transfer.

Well, I ignored them. I got into Hartwick. And I finished my first semester with a 4.000 GPA. Call me insane but I can’t wait to start my second semester in February.

And, in what was probably the top story of the year for me, I have disentangled myself from the man who was holding be back from so much and who was kicking the crap out of me emotionally for so long. I am divorced. I am free.

With all these spiffy things going well for me, you might be surprised to learn that I am feeling decidedly bummed out as I ring in the New Year.

And actually, it’s no great mystery. I’m lonely.

I’ve been lonely for year but I’m really feeling it these days. There’s a specific set of reasons for that, into which I will not delve at this point. Without going into detail, I’ll just say that it makes me sad.

I’m pretty sure I’ll get over it — and I’d probably get over it sooner if I weren’t imbibing tonight, since it’s well known that alcohol is a depressant and not the best thing to be drinking when you’re already kind of depressed.

I will get over it, fairly soon, I expect. And, in spite of my current fears, I will publicly state that I bet I won’t be alone for the rest of my life. I’ve been alone for long enough.

Now that I’m free, I can work on getting the good stuff. In which case, 2011 promises to be a good one.

Happy New Year, everybody!

I’ve decided. I want an Accent.

It doesn’t have to be new. I try not to be unreasonable. But that’s what I want.

Christmas really changes in nature as your children grow up.

There are a lot of reasons for that but the most important reason is that, as your children get older, they start wanting things that you really just can’t afford.

Or, at least, things that I just really can’t afford.

Once upon a time, I bought David three cars for Christmas. Of course, they were made entirely of plastic, carried little plastic people (the name of which escapes me right this minute), and were approximately eight inches long.

Now, there are no cars for Christmas. Gina’s holding out for a Kia Forte and that’s just too big to fit in this Ms. Santa’s bag of goodies.

So, barring winning lotto numbers, it’ll be hard to get them “just what they wanted” at this point. Besides, I’m broke and still trying to pull together the money just to move.

One thing I’m determined about: this is my last Christmas in this house.

I’m feeling a certain amount of pressure to get my children out of here, never mind me. Not that he is doing anything particularly abusive. Baker is no more abusive than he has been all along. His emotional cluelessness hasn’t changed a bit.

But the kids are unhappy here, profoundly unhappy, especially the girls.

I want to get us all out of this house so that I can create the kind of home we used to have, one that’s full of fun and music and light and laughter. That’s my pledge to them and to me.

In fact, I guess you might call it my New Year’s Resolution.

So, Christmas was quite pleasant (and thank you very much, ladies, because I know that keeping the tone light and happy cost you plenty) and I hope we’ll have some fun while ringing in the New Year.

And then it will be time to get to work.

I am divorced.

I have a couple of things I need to do in order to finalize everything … you know, papers to file and so on and so forth. None of that really matters to me. Fact is that I have a signed judgment of divorce sitting on my desk right now.

That means I’m free. What a relief!

I’ve been living in terror of somebody telling me that there was something terribly wrong with my paperwork (bearing in mind that I prepared the uncontested paperwork by myself, without advice of counsel) and that I was not going to be able to get a divorce for five years or something.

I’ve been afraid that Baker would decide to fight with me about something. In fact, he did end up deciding to fight with me about something, except that I wanted the divorce badly enough that I just pretty much gave him what he wanted.

As matters evolved, there was only one glitch, of which I was notified by mail. And I turned that puppy around so fast, it was back out the door less than 24 hours after it left the judge’s chambers. I wanted no delays.

Now, it’s done.

I feel like I should celebrate somehow but … well, I don’t really have the money to go out or treat myself to anything.

Besides, somehow, it doesn’t feel like “celebrating” when I’m focused on studying for an Art History final.

For the record, in some ways, this is a completely terrifying moment. In anthropological terms, my status in society has changed but without any kind of rite of passage ritual to help me psychologically make the transition.

There are all sorts of rites and rituals involved in getting married, just like there are all sorts of rights and rituals involved in getting born and getting dead and getting finished with school (first high school and then college and then grad school … ).

And, in none of those cases is it even possible to go back to the status you emerged from. You can’t go back to being unborn or undead or even ungraduated.

That makes getting divorced kind of unique among our cultural status changes … unless I’ve missed something. Mostly, it’s just a bunch of paperwork, and filling out forms is a poor substitute for transitional ritual because it doesn’t very rank high in terms of psychological significance, if you catch my drift.

So, more than anything else, my feelings are in limbo at the moment. Or maybe I’m in shock? In denial? All I know is that I have a life to piece together.

I have no idea what that life is going to be like. I don’t know if my days of having male companionship are forever behind me and all the love in my life from now on will come from my kids and my friends. I don’t know whether I will manage to conquer poverty for a second time in my life.

I haven’t really chosen a path, I’ve just stepped off the path I was on.

Que sera, sera.