Auld Lyng Syne

For my last blog entry of the year, I want to reflect and tie up loose ends. I am hardly the only person to have a rough year, though mine was a tad unique: two deaths in my immediate family, two estates, the disintegration of several friendships (including at least one that had felt dormant for years), the expensive decision to drop out of grad school, inconsistent work. At least when I broke up with my girlfriend, it was amicable. In a way, 2017 was a rebuilding year, the beginning of something new that doesn't feel tangible yet.

I did create some closure, though: I finally blocked my awful, bigoted college girlfriend on Facebook. For the last three or four years, Babs has been using an alias on social media; when she liked a photo that I posted of my sister, I felt triggered. I doubt this was a backdoor effort to reconnect --likely just circumstance-- but I still find my sister being connected to this fat racist psychotic to be inexplicable. Adios and good riddance, "Candy N. Chloe."

I'm sort of embarrassed to admit that I'm still way behind on TV, so for the second year in a row I'm forgoing my annual best-of list. The only shows I saw on a regular basis in '17 were SNL and "Last Week Tonight," and I'm at least a year behind on everything else I watch. There is at least one show that I regularly recorded on my DVR that I've given up on, simply because the backlog is too much.

On that note, I want to thank some specific people that made a tough year a little more hospitable: Dan Anderson, Marissa Robertcop, Andy Knuth, Koni Shaughnessy, Rich Johnston, Louise Loeb, Andy Heytman, Sarah Kritzman, Cari Maher, Jill Olsen, Jon-Michael Hoskinson, Brian Sebby, Yolanda Waddell, Rachel Caro, Carl Luft, my Flynn Tin Tin teammates, my sister Bridget and anyone else who helped along the way. See you all in 2018.

(574)