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

Happy Christmas your arse

It paid off whining about missing my dad the other day. Apparently, that got it out there and made room for christmas spirit inside me. Yesterday I made the biggest batch of Vanillekipferl I've ever made (still almost too precious to share), I also made egg nog, I made an apple pie that I froze because the apples were about to go, I have a batch of rum ball dough resting in my fridge that I'm planning on rolling tonight or tomorrow. It helped that one of my best friends in the world is in Vienna at the moment and kept me company while I was baking yesterday. We talked and laughed and got tipsy on warm egg nog and I had an overall awesome time. I love having her here, seeing her at my birthday and on Christmas. She's just one of those rare people that really get me. She's known me forever and she knows how I tick. She knows all my crazies and loves me anyway. And those people are few and far between. I can barely think of a handful even.

So I had a lovely time yesterday. And this morning I organized some Christmas music and am now listening to Fairytale of New York, which is inarguably one of the most wonderful Christmas songs of all time.

I'll have to go to work this afternoon, but theoretically this is my last shift til way after Christmas. And tomorrow we'll go buy our turkey and brine it and I'll get into figuring out how all the pots will share the oven on Christmas eve. And then it's cocktails for my birthday on the 23rd and Christmas for the lost kids (I have a couple of friends who are "familiarly" stranded and always welcome in our place) on the 24th.

Gosh I love Christmas, it's almost disgusting ;) Even the stress part of it is okay stress, because it's fucking Christmas.

stiff upper lip, mcC

We went to a party today. It was the birthday party of one of my wife's friends, who I happen to like a lot too. However, that friend has a huge circle of friends (or many circles, actually), many of them she's known since her childhood. It just so happens that not only do I barely know them, but whenever I ended up talking to one of them before  - I rarely ended up liking them. The ones I do like are basically her friends from work. The rest of the gang comes mostly from the small town my wife grew up in as well. They all know each other well and are not very inviting to outsiders and I find them kind of odd (not in a good way).

It's not that they're mean or something, they just don't really talk to people they don't know (there are exceptions of course), I figured that out at the first birthday bash five years ago. They won't even talk to my wife - at least, not much - because she was never that involved in town life. While I find this very off-putting I'll usually play nicely since it's just once or twice a year. I'll try to talk to someone, succeed for two minutes, then wander on wondering what the hell these people do to be so odd and boring, but basically: no harm done.

Not this time. This time it was truly horrific. I wanted to retreat so badly I ended up trying to avoid talking to people. I chatted to my wife, focused on my food and my drink and my phone camera app. I could not keep the happy face going by any means and was probably highly embarassing to my wife (sorry, hon). Unfortunately she didn't get that I was trying to keep back and did things like letting me enter the room first, all gentlemanly but oh-so-wrong this time. To me it felt like being shoved into a position I couldn't handle. Going in first meant drawing looks and I didn't want that. Just let me hide, please, I thought and begged her to go in first.

I figure the problem wasn't the party as such, I would gladly have partied with my own friends, I think. Of course exhaustion plays a role (and my wife's aggressive undertones thanks to her depression aren't helping much either), but what most got to me was having to save face.. stiff upper lip...

I'm usually a happy, quite friendly person! Maybe I should just draw my conclusions accordingly: These people are un-entertaining (I admit my impression goes along the lines of 'small town, small minds') --> stay the fuck home, especially if you're having a bad day/week/month.

Love, mcC

(Maybe I'll post some pics that I took tomorrow.)