May 13, 2006

In Which I Thank You, Spread a Little Love, And Move On

Some 18 months ago, give or take, I was sitting at my bullshit job, fearing another outburst from the asshole who signed my meager paychecks, waiting for a phone call from my then boyfriend who lived in LA. I don't even remember how I stumbled upon my first blog. But a day later I had opened the 6th Floor and was updating on a regular basis.
I was bitter, depressed, feeling trapped, and more than a bit lost. I had graduated law school and passed the bar, living on a prayer (WHOA-OH! We're Halfway there!) and needed a place to unload.
This isn't to say that I'm not still all of the above, to a degree.
But things have changed a lot since then.
Since that first post, I left shitty soul-crushing job and got another, where I made some great friends and started to believe in myself again. Last December left that job and started my current employment as a real lawyer.
Since that first post, my parents have split up. Life has gone on.
Since that first post, my sister, my roommate of 2 years, moved out. I renovated my apartment and kind of started over.
Since that first post, A* became one of my best friends, met an incredible man, got engaged, and is now planning on moving to North Carolina.
Since that first post, my circle of friends has changed dramatically. One very close friend got cut out of my life entirely. Another got cut out, and then died shortly after we had taken the first steps toward reconciliation.
Since that first post, I lost my Grandfather.
Since that first post, I've become great friends with Allison and Jules, through a meeting with BR.
Since that first post, I've had the worst year for cluster headaches in my life, and spent most of last summer afraid that I would die and wishing that I would.
Since that first post, that boyfriend in LA and I broke up. He treated me horribly in the ensuing months, and I now know exactly what kind of man I had tied myself to for 9 months. I have dated quite a few men since then, some notable, some not so much.
Since that first post, I made 2 great friends in Bradders and Rhys, whom I get to see maybe twice a year, but value above so many others.
Since that first post, the world has lost a Pope and gained a new one. The latter being kind of an asshole with nowhere near as impeccable taste in hats as the old.
Since that first post, I got a fourth tattoo.
Since that first post, the U.S. has seen two new Supreme Court Justices appointed. Gay people are no closer to being treated like human beings.
Since that first post, Hurricanes Rita and Katrina killed thousands, left thousands of other homeless and hopeless. But since that first post, we've learned that Brownie did a "heck of a job".
Since that first post, I've watched Donald Trump anoint 2 new Apprentici, America elect 2 new American Idols, Tyra anoint 3 next top models, and the viewing public ignore Arrested Development, and let it go the way of so many other brilliant shows.
Since that first post, Audrey lost her father, Bird lost a baby, and LJ gained a daughter.

Since that first post, Bird got pregnant again and is expecting her first child in June.
Since that first post, I stopped seeing my shrink, because I realized that I can be neurotic for free.
Since that first post, the U.S. has become a reviled nation (moreso than it ever was) and the president has blindly led us down the path to war, loss and intolerance.
Since that first post I have contemplated leaving New York 100 times, and find myself completely incapable, if not for the life that I have built here, then because I find it completely impossible to feel as alive anywhere else in the world as I do when I walk the streets of Manhattan.
Since that first post, I met and dated a man who broke my heart, messed with my head, and made me (and by extension all of my friends who listened to me whine about him) absolutely insane. Since that first post we have played out an incredibly intricate dance of avoidance, passive aggression and childish jealousy. We've also been completely unable to be together and yet completely incapable of being apart.
Since that first post, I've tried to become a bit more comfortable with what I want in a relationship, and attempted, somewhat unsuccessfully, to take things a little easier.
Since April, we're giving it another try. And I'm terrified I'm going to get bulldozed again, but I sincerely think that the chance of being with him is worth it. Trust me. He doesn't look at you the way he looks at me. Things aren't playing out how I imagined them, but that's the game, right? Some of the best places are the ones you never planned to go in the first place.
My job doesn't leave me with a lot of time to write, which sucks. I miss writing. But I just don't have the energy or time to commit to really putting things down as often or as completely as I would like. And of late my free time has been devoted to either working or going out and living the life I've so carefully documented.
This isn't to say I suffer from blogger guilt, because I know that there really aren't that many people clamoring for my latest update. But I also hate leaving this page sitting here, collecting dust. Unfinished.
Rereading what I use as signposts for this blog, I realize more than ever that this was a completely personal thing. Unlike many of the bloggers who get paid to write and have made cottage industries of their ramblings, I haven't marked my time (that often) with Paris Hilton's latest appearance or tracking Lindsay Lohan's weight fluctuations. Which is why my readership was never all that huge. I've been examining my own life, and there aren't all that many people interested. Which is totally fine. And yet, if I had starred in a movie or had an album, all the weird minutiae of my days and the breakdown and rebuild of my relationship with Bartender and I would have been all that half the country cared about. (Take a moment to picture me jumping up and down on Oprah's couch screaming about how much I love this man! Scary, right?)

I know that the urge to write will never stop completely, and I imagine the closing of the 6th Floor will be akin to Cher's Farewell tour: Just when you thinks it's over, she adds more dates (Seriously Cher, I love you. But you've been on a farewell tour for 4 freaking years. Please just stop.). So I might pop up somewhere else in the future. And I might not.

I'm a bit taken aback by how many of my readers are complete strangers. I've never met or spoken to a lot of you, and yet you comment, you encourage, you rage right along side me. Thank You.
It's weird to be looking back and looking forward at the same time. I'm so confused I can't really even think of a snarky note to finish with. I guess you could queue up that sad waking away music from "The Incredible Hulk". Anyone have that on mp3? No?
I have no words of wisdom to go out on. There are no quotes for me to copy here (although I briefly considered Carrie's last monologue from the Sex and the City finale, but, Jesus, that would be GAAAAAAAAAY and I'd probably have to kick my own ass.). No revelations. No Jerry Springer-esque final thought to wrap it all up. Because I can't wrap it up. Nothing is really ending. My life is going on. So is yours, Dear Reader.

So I'll just say this:
Take care of each other.
Know that, despite all my bitching, I believe that people are generally good, and that above all else, love will find a way.

See you Around, Bitches.