I've talked to a lot of people in the last week and they've all told me the same thing. That this has been one of the more difficult years in recent memory. People still struggling with work, finding work, keeping work, money, friends, relationships, kids. We'd like to think the world has gotten better, and I suppose in some small ways it has, but it's still rough out there.
When I started in January, I'd just left my job of five years at "The FAN," and was not the least bit happy to go. It had been my plan to work my way up to the job I'd wanted for most of my life, only to discover how political and petty the radio business can be. Fortunately, I had my present job to fall back on, but it was hard to consider that the window of opportunity was now potentially closed.
Not a bad feeling to have, really.
Spring was pretty non-eventful as I focused on my routine of work and more work. My son turned two in March and I got to spend the day with him, which was nice. Because of the level of unwanted tension and scorn I seemed to get at his first birthday party with his mother, her family and all their friends, I skipped this year's in favor of just some quiet time with him and me. I'll probably do so again next year because it's a lot of stress I don't need and I have to be mindful of that nowadays.
Danny's grown a lot this year. He's managed to get through the vaunted "Terrible Twos" without causing or bearing any major scars that I've seen. Granted, I don't have the luxury of seeing him every day, but from what I have seen he's developing into the same smart, sweet boy I appeared to be at that age. I hope he stays that way, even though I know there will be times he won't. My son doesn't deserve to follow in my footsteps. He deserves better than that.
By the time my birthday came around in May, I'd long decided I was going to treat myself with a vacation, my first in four years. I also knew exactly what I was going to do and that was get lost somewhere I'd never been before.
So after saving up money for the better part of six months, I packed up my car and took off for a road trip which would ultimately cover 1,600 miles and three states. I left straight from work in southern Washington and after braving rush hour traffic in and around Portland, made it halfway down the Oregon coast to Newport. Staying the night in a small hotel, I left early the next morning and continued into truly parts unknown for me, the south coast and into California, where I'd never set foot before.
I'd planned to stay in Crescent City, but through some serendipity, a friend's parents let me stay at their house three hours further south in the mountain town of Wilits. It meant I ended up not getting to gawk at the Redwoods as much as I'd liked, but having a better place to crash for free was more than worth it. I ended up making my way to San Francisco, a city I'd wanted to see for most of my life and beheld the majesty of the Golden Gate, Alcatraz and everything it had to offer.
Halfway through my trip, the friends who were quite nice enough to offer me a couch in their townhouse in San Jose took off on their own vacation, leaving me to manage their place while in the care of their two cats and two parakeets. We got along well enough.
I spent my birthday eating lunch in Chinatown, perusing Fisherman's Wharf and getting a celebratory drink called a Savoy Truffle in a quiet speakeasy in San Jose. The ambience was cool. The booze went straight to my head, but as is my usual stance, I soldiered on.
The 11-hour drive back was bittersweet as I didn't expect to like the city as much as I did. But I do. I loved San Francisco and hopefully, the opportunity to see it again will come up down the line sometime.
The onset of summer found me in more unfamiliar territory, that of the aspiring author looking for a benefactor who'd be interested in helping me finish the book on my grandparents' WWII letter. After the hullaballoo generated by the article about me that appeared in The Oregonian, last year, I wanted to strike while the proverbial iron was at least warm.
I contacted about a dozen agents around the country, and while some of them were interested, nothing came of it. Being a writer with a story half-done doesn't make it an attractive target, but the experience was worth it. Eventually, I'll get back to it and complete the research I need to finish the book. In the meantime, I've been working on other projects that will hopefully pan out sooner.
Matt got the tickets for our birthdays and while we were anticipating a great show, I don't think either of us were prepared for what we got.
It was fantastic.
I'd been to a few concert in the last couple years, but there was something so awesome in the energy of the band onstage and the crowd that came to see them. I told Matt on the way home, even as my head was still buzzing from the music, that if I see a hundred more concerts in the future, that will still be the best I ever went to.
Rolling into fall, we were treated to an "Indian Summer" of warm nights and sunshine, and I decided to take my camera out to see what I could do with it.
Turned out that I got pretty lucky. In four hours I took more than 100 photos and some were truly amazing. For someone who's always loved photography, being able to challenge myself like that was both fun and reassuring.I bought my camera for that very reason, and the little bit of money I invested felt quite worthwhile when I got home and saw just what it had captured for me.
It was an interesting exercise, trying to meditate when you know people are looking at you wondering what you're doing. I didn't care. Sometimes the only thing you can do is let them stare and make their own conclusions, while you make your own about yourself.
It's a part of the city I don't get to nearly as much as I should, and if I'm lucky, I'll be able to go back again next year, if I need to.
Thanksgiving presented me with a potentially Herculean task in my first ever attempt to make a turkey. I'll admit that I was nervous about the prospect, having seen a myriad of examples where it had all gone horribly wrong. Still, I remained undaunted in my quest to prove that it could indeed be done.
Cooking is more fun when you have guests to share it with.
The year is ending with hectic days at work, getting short deadlines met and wrapping up loose ends for stories we hadn't had time to get to. We got a little bit of snow in this part of the world, and by little I mean still enough to make everyone but me completely loose their minds in nerve-wracking apocalyptic panic. It was all long gone by the time Christmas came around and we may or may not see some later on in the winter.
I'll believe it when I see it.
Despite the number of bad days I had this year, and I did have quite a lot of them as I try so sort things out in this ten-cent head of mine, there were quite a few good days as well. More than I can fit here, actually and that's an encouraging sign, I'd like to think.
Is 2014 going to be a better year? Honestly, I have no idea. 365 days is a lot of time and truly anything can happen. I hope it will be, though, for me and a lot of other people I care about.
All I know is that this chapter is ending, but the story continues to roll on.
Tally Ho.
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