The radio station had it's third birthday party tonight- our little non-profit volunteer station has been on the air for three years and one month- our 'real' birthday is Jan. 1st, 2005, but we have our celebrations in February...this year I decided that I would use the occasion to name Feb. 1, 2008 as my personal New Year's day; according to my revised calendar, this past January was part of 2007, a year that was so miserable and unlucky that it deserves a thirteenth shitty month. 2007 had two Januaries and they both sucked. Good riddance.
I admit that I was tempted to skip the party and stay home. I didn't do that. I felt like I was at a crucial point; that if I withdrew from the world now, I might never go out again, ever. It was a jolting realization, so I braved the bad weather and crappy parking and went downtown.
I'm glad I did. I arrived feeling lonely, depressed and hopeless and I left feeling lonely, depressed and hopeful, a significant improvement in attitude. I only stayed a few hours, but in that time I managed to set up a pair of job interviews, was approached by a band about some production work, re-established contact with an old friend that I've always been a little sweet on (she asked for my number, woo!) and had free food aplenty.
After a few hours things started catching up to me...I've been meeting with people all week - at the funeral home, the church, the burial- tonight I was exhausted quickly, but not before seeing some old friends and making a few tentative steps towards the future.
Well, not so tentative, perhaps. My potential employer wants to meet with me tomorrow , hopefully to get me started working post-haste and I'm hoping that my old friend calls soon. After months of illness and death, a booty-call would be positively life-affirming.
Tonight I'm tired. I feel grief calling and I have learned the hard way that it's not something that one should ignore. Tonight I will cry a bit while no one can see me, tomorrow I will start life over.
I'm looking forward to it.