Objects in the rear view mirror....

2011.
2 0 1 1.
Asshole. Friend.
Fucked me up and built me up.
I honestly don't know what to think about this year. Maybe it's time for a pro/con list?


...


OK, I tried making a list, but apparently my life is not list-able. Instead I got this:


I got fired. From a job that could've been done by Grawp the giant.
But getting fired gave me the impetus to finally start being creative full-time.


I started running regularly and felt great about it... but my knee got fucked up and I had to stop doing sports altogether. Still can't run :(


I finally got diagnosed with ADHD and realised that a lot in my life was not my fault. But now instead of feeling crappy because I never managed to get anything done I felt crappy because of all the time I had lost.


I also learned that there are meds that could help me. But some of the meds fucked me up BAD. Like Charlie! But Charlie the elephant pales in comparison to throwing up into a trashcan at Praterstern underground station. Disgusting and humiliating - brought to you by Strattera (tm). Back to Ritalin then. I'm still not sure they're the right ones. However, when they do work, it's magical. I mean, shit is getting done! And instead of being "a person with tons of creative potential" I turn into a proper "creative person".


I finally had the courage to submit a short story to two literary competitions. I didn't get shortlisted for either one though.


I also submitted my first film treatment ever. This time I only barely missed the shortlist and ended up joining the team in a different capacity anyway.


I lost some friends. Because, apparently, 2011 was the year of people being pissed at me but not letting me know this. (Not a mindreader, I am.) To this day I still don't know the reason for one of those people's anger at me.
I made some new friends though.
And re-established contact with some out-of-touch old ones.


I wrote more than I ever did before. I didn't write nearly enough to satisfy me. But I started work on my first film.


I started film school.


I still don't have a paying job. But I feel I'm getting to a point where I could handle one.


My mother is nice to me again. Unfortunately, I think it is because now that I have a diagnosis she thinks I'm damaged goods and that I can't be held responsible for my own actions - and not because she sees her own faults in last year's ordeal. Oh, the irony!


I LEARNED TO SAY 'NO'!


We went to New York.
I FINALLY WENT TO NEW YORK!


I saw Beirut and Tori Amos and Amanda Palmer live.


I gave Neil Gaiman my short stories and didn't get any feedback.


A friend of mine gave basically forced Lee Sheldon to read my script and short stories and I got the best, most useful feedback ever.


I don't want to jinx it but so far NO ONE DIED THIS YEAR!


I realised what exactly it is that I'm exceptionally good at.


I finished therapy.
But most of all I fulfilled the one New Year's resolution I had: I scared the shit out of being scared.






Looking up/back at this I'm drawing the conclusion that 2011 was quite an okay year, all things considered. Definitely better than 2010. And hopefully 2012 will be even better.


What I wish for besides the basic health-no-one-dying stuff:


- Getting the meds thing worked out
- Making a good movie and getting it seen
- Lots of love and great music and good friends and some travelling




edited because I saw this on twitter and found it incredibly wonderful:

taken from http://dreamripples.tumblr.com/post/14900943949

I want to go to there

NYC. New York City. The Big Apple. The city that never sleeps.
I always wanted to go.
Now I'm here.

At first I was hesitant whether I'd really like it. The 15 hour travel, the 2.5 hours in immigration, he endless cab ride to Manhattan through the desolation of Queens on which I'd almost fallen asleep, the crappy hole that our rented apartment turned out to be - it was getting to me. But when we ventured out to find water and food that same night I was immediately appeased. And now, five days later, the apartment is still disgustingly crappy and we're going to check today whether we can move to our Brooklyn hotel earlier than planned - but I love this city. I absolutely live it. Not all of it. But the parts that I like I really like.

The grime and dirt I was fearing before I came? Nothing. My skin is as happy as a clam here.

I thought I'd have to make more of an effort to look good when leaving the house. But I could go out in my fucking pyjamas and no one would blink an eye. I have never felt this comfortable in my body. Because I don't think about it all that much. Because people here don't stare. They don't give you weird looks when you're wearing your funny zebra hat. (On a side note: we've found great clothes here!)

They don't laugh when you start dancing to the music of the band playing in the subway station. Instead they smile at you. They are not opposed to sharing a table with or talking to strangers. They are curteous! They queue almost as well as the British. I have not once been jostled in a crowd since we arrived (except by tourists).

Our doorman put a NYT in front of our door today - because he thought we'd be interested in DADT news. We're basically close to tears half the time because we're so touched by how nice and lovely and helpful these people are.

The bad sides? Sure, there are some. We didn't like Soho/Noho. Its hard to find healthy food. We don't speak conductor and the notices in the subway are odd. The subway is fine but getting to the right platform is hard.

Sure, there's the issue of politics/the system, but that's both a separate blog post and not a NYC issue but a nationwide one.

Thus I can wholeheartedly say:
New York, I love you.