Hello, friendships.

I have this story about opera and Wolverine and Wal-Mart I really want to share, but I'm going to wait because right now, on April 14th, it is thundersnowing. Gary Lezak's wet dream finally came true because it is thundersnowing gigantic, scrumptious flakes the size of small field rodents all over the place. What a truly contrary night.

I've been spending a lot of time, probably more than my Teutonic Efficiency Gene wants to allow, thinking about what I was doing this time last year. This pasttime sort of took on a special meaning today as I sat at my desk and signed my teacher contract for 07-08. On this day last year I accepted my current job, and I remember pulling my car to the side of the road and just crying huge, fat, ecstatic tears that the most awful school year of my life was finally, mercifully over. Of course, I had another month left to go at the school and all the awkward explanations, the coming out about my separation to all my colleagues and friends, but it didn't matter anymore because there was a future waiting for me the following August. My job, if not the rest of my life, was going to be monumentally better.

I assumed that because this huge chunk of my life had fallen into place, the rest of me would feel better too, but the months from last April to February sort of seemed like one long hazy block of angst. The anger inside me was profound, and I never thought I was going to be able to get to a point where I could just relax and breathe and be alone without torturing myself with my inner monologue. I developed new and perverse ways to torture myself, and I spent the okay days wondering when the next bad one would hit, and I knew...just KNEW...that the world would always exist for me in shades of dingy grey and it would never, be vibrant again.

For some reason, after my grandma died the raw anger started slipping away. I found myself more and more often alone in my house and enjoying the silence rather than resenting it. I started realizing that I could buy groceries for just myself and no one would pass judgement for my singleness. Interactions with my friends and family stopped serving as stops on my epic quest for the perfect amateur therapy and started becoming conversations again. And finally after all these things fell into place, I realized I was happy again. Quietly, shakily, but yeah...it's good.

I'm happy.

I'M!

HAPPY!