Whether your 2013 was magical or terrible, I hope 2014 is better. I hope you’re healthier, smarter, richer, happier, safer, and more fulfilled. I hope you get to do new things that excite you and I hope you get to do things you already love. I hope that life is kinder, the world brighter, and love deeper and more available to you than ever before. I hope that you get to really and truly love something with your whole heart this year, especially if it’s something dumb and joyful. I hope you do you, be you, and love you to your absolute capacity.
You’re the best and I am so lucky to know you. No, really.
Every new year I think, “This year will be better!” and every year end I think, “Wow, this year was awful, wasn’t it?” and, honestly, after so many of those years I have no idea what constitutes a good year or a bad year. Years are made up of good and bad and stuff, always, and maybe this time I’ll retain that knowledge and stop holding out hope for a year that sucks less? Is this growing up? Am I an adult now?
2012 wasn’t any different. You were okay, I guess? You got me engaged early on and a sweet freelance gig at the end, but you also moved me to North Dakota in the middle, so I still kind of want to scream “Fuck you” loudly and at length into your face. Were you a person, I would strike you with a heavy hand and then probably feel really bad about it and cry while clinging to your lower legs and begging forgiveness. I’d probably be drunk at the time, if that makes you feel any better about it.
Anyway, thanks for the good times! And burn in hell for the bad ones. And thanks to my bad memory for making both kinds and all the ones in the middle pretty hazy. It’s hard to have a bad year when you can’t remember jack shit.
Peace out, 2k12. Keep it real.
– Ash
Dear 2013,
What am I supposed to say here? You haven’t even met me yet and I’m sure you’re already planning some fucked up shit to throw at me. You new guys are such dicks that way.
But whatever, I guess I’m ready for whatever you got, so bring it on, 2k13! I’d prefer if you were bringing me, like, a relocation to Los Angeles, San Diego, Kansas City, Nashville, or Seattle and a full-time, well-paying job that I am naturally very good at and have little anxiety or stress about. And all that for my girlfriend too, please. We’d even settle for Portland! But since I imagine none of that is on the schedule for the coming year, I’ll just take a whole bunch of decent days, a few good ones, and as few bad ones as possible. Please?
Thanks a bunch, dude. I’m sure you’re an okay guy, really. Being the new guy blows, especially when most of your predecessors have been disappointments. Before you get too down, though, remember that what that really means is that the bar is super low. Just aim for mediocrity, man, and you’ll have people all up your ass about how you were the best year ever.
Good luck, dude! I believe in you. I guess.
– Ash
Dear Any-and-Every-One Who Reads This,
Hey there! How are you? Are you feeling okay? The end of the year is a super stressful time for people because there are like a fuckton of holidays and lots of people around who say things that are kind of mean sometimes and you’re not supposed to get angry or weird about it because they’re usually people you love a lot and who wants to rock the boat like that? It’s all kind of awful stuff wrapped up in pretty ribbons and glitter and it sucks. It can ruin all the fun stuff! And who wants that? Nobody. Nobody wants their cool end of the year holidays ruined.
I can’t control your holiday or how you feel. Hell, I can’t control how I feel most days. But I can hope that your holidays weren’t too bad and that your year was made up of a lot more good than bad or that the good at least made up for some of the bad. I can tell you that you’re awesome and you can believe me because it’s true. You’re reading this, aren’t you? Well then that means we probably kind of know each other and I don’t waste my time on people that aren’t awesome. End of story. You’re also beautiful and special and important and you deserve a 2013 as special and beautiful and awesome as you are. I can’t promise it’ll happen, but you better believe me when I say you deserve it.
Can you promise me something though? Can you promise to take care of yourself in 2013? Like, just a little bit whenever you can. Like, have a Starbucks if it makes you happy or buy a DVD and then veg on your couch with it. Read an entire book in one sitting! Marathon a tv show! Take baths or fart when you’re alone in an elevator. Smile when you feel it and let yourself feel mad or sad or frustrated. Cry when you need to. You deserve to be happy, but when you can’t be, you have the right to feel all those things, whatever they are. Do what makes you feel good and stop being mean to yourself because you’re not living up to someone else’s bullshit expectations. Set your own bar low, reach above it whenever you can, be yourself — whoever you want that to be — and be kind to yourself. You’re wonderful.
I love you. No, really. It’s true. I do. I’m a big person, I have room for you in here, right next to my heart. It’s okay, you can all squeeze in. Promise.
