With sincere apologies to anybody with whom I enjoyed or shared good times this past year, I would just like to formally and officially pronounce that 2004 was more sucky than good.
Now, this is not to say that I was unhappy in 2004.
I was not.
(For those incapable of deciphering multiple negatives, this means I was happy).
And this is not to say that I was unsuccessful in 2004.
I was not.
(Again, deciphered: I was successful.).
It's just that there was too much going on in 2004. WAY too much. And too much of what was going on was too challenging and painful and difficult. And too much of it required too much energy. Bad negative energy that sucked away at good positive energy that was needed for other important things.
Other important things like good work and good friends and good family and good food and good sleep.
I'd add good sex, but this column's going G-Rated in 2005.
NOT.
Anyway, the problem was the ratio. The ratio of things that extracted energy to things that infused energy was highly disproportionate.
Basically, I was putting out a lot and getting back not a lot.
And I was putting out A LOT.
(Notice that was about energy. Not sex.)
(Please also notice that NOT A LOT is THREE WORDS.)
There finally came a point where I had to dip into my energy reserves, tapping into my slim energy savings in order to answer some of the energy demands.
All I know is that by the end of 2004, I had no gas left.
December finally rolled around and I was running on empty. I wanted 2004 to get up and go, but I could barely get up.
With no gas left in my tank, I just sat in my little lifeless shell of a car on the gravelly side of life's road and watched reruns of Melrose Place.
Boo sat with me, of course.
Well, actually, Boo was laying with me more than sitting with me. He likes to do that.
And up until those last few minutes of &^%$# 2004, I fought the temptation to admit that '04 stunk.
Because for better or for worse, the thing I still believe in most is that damn little boat story.
I don't recall whether it's an allegory or a joke or a commandment, but the punchline is that when you find yourself fighting choppy waters, you should certainly pray to god, but you should also row your ass off.
And no, I'm not sure whether 'row your ass off' was in the original telling of this beautiful story.
But toward the end of 2004, even though I could see that the end was near and even though I was excited about that, I still felt loyal to 2004. Even though 2005 was just a few weeks away, I still felt like it was my responsibility to have two feet fully entrenched in 2004.
Even though I was secretly fantasizing about throwing 2004 away for good, I knew that I was still in 2004 and that I still had to fight for the integrity of 2004.
Kind of like Tom.
On December 31st at 4:21 pm I rolled into Jiffy Lube and gave Tom my most coy girl smile and flirted about whether I was the last customer of the year. I wanted to ensure I got good Lube and also eliminate any "I had to work the holiday" bad attitude that might affect my Lubing.
Tom confidently told me that there would be six customers between me and 5 pm. Tom also told me it was Murphy's Law of closing time that at least four customers show up five minutes before the garage closes.
Tom also flirted back and pushed hard for top-of-the-line oil and a change of air filter.
"But your dealer recommends a better oil for your car....it's not just me."
As much as I wanted to exit 2004 with my liquids topped off, my pipes clean and on a good note with new boyfriend Tom, I just couldn't go for the high priced oil or the air filter. In my Jiffy Lube tradition, I said with a low level of mock concern, "Not this time; next time."
But as I paid for my newly juiced car, I heard Tom announce in a testosterone filled voice that they'd hit their hundred. I assume that meant one hundred cars serviced for the day. But who knows. Tom was already back in the oil jungle convincing the silver SUV that his air filter was too dirty.
I left Jiffy Lube shortly before they closed on New Years Eve and Tom was right in there fighting for those last few $19.99 air filters.
In the short time I've dedicated to looking back at '04, it occurs to me that I could have just given up on 2004 at the beginning of December, announced that it sucked, and spent all of December partying. I could have spent the final weeks of 2004 celebrating the death of an icky year and the coming of a virgin year.
I could have been energized by the liberation of just giving up and giving in.
And I've noted in my new 2005 calendar that I should consider this on or around December 1, 2005.
Because although I'm feeling pretty good karma about 2005, you never know. Perhaps as November 2005 nears to an end in just ten months and twenty nine days, I'll be craving the first of January.
In which case, I might just give in. I might just declare the year a loss and go out and get ripped. For a full glorious month.
But for now I'm committed to 2005.
I've got lots of energy in my bank thanks to a couple of blood transfusions and a bunch of new Starbucks holiday gift cards.
And my liquids are topped off.
And although my air filter's still a little dirty, I can hold up my end of any party conversation or Trivial Pursuit challenge related to Melrose Place.
So here's to a lighter year for those who need one. You know who you are.
And here's to "getting the bad out and putting the good in" as Tommy Boy said just before he kissed me at midnight.
And after he kissed me, I shot him my best "I'm shy and demure now" glance and said "I bet you say that to all of your customers."
And Tom, my first boyfriend and first breakup of the new year said "Well, yeah. We have to say that. It's in the Jiffy Handbook."
Putting the good in 2005...Peace, Love, Health...and More Coffee (or not Coffee) for Everyone.