Resolutions, after all.

I tend to be unimpressed by all things New Year's Eve. December 31st marks a day full of reflection and party planning for most, but I always find myself grumbling about the need to buy a new calendar. I see no real value in thinking that one can "Turn the Page" after a night of binge drinking and a sloppy midnight kiss. In reality, most of us wake up miserably hungover with the nagging compulsion to think of how this coming year will be different. Those who wait all year for January 1st to roll around so they can finally accomplish their dreams will most likely end up in a cyclical rut: miserable hangover followed by nagging compulsion ad infinitum. 

I mulled over my cynicism yesterday as I hypocritically pampered myself for an overly-expensive and overly-excessive evening. I longed to feel some type of connection to this year that  I was leaving behind, to find some binding thread that would sew together a metaphorical 2012 quilt, some semblance of a theme to characterize my year. Facebook politely constructed my "Year In Review", but failed to capture the essence-- the real weight--of my year. 

Thanks, Facebook. 

I've realized now, after a day of nursing a hangover and attending to a nagging compulsion to "reflect on 2012",  that this past year was full of growing up.

In an effort to supplement the daily grind, I thrusted myself into a number of activities, searching eagerly for a passion that would excite and invigorate me. In January, I joined an indoor soccer league but was quickly disillusioned by both my teammates and the sheer physics of playing soccer on a basketball court. It didn't seem right. In February I found a hot yoga studio and began sweating my ass off twice a week. It was fun until the weather got warm and I could no longer bring myself to willingly sit in a 100 degree room for 90 minutes after riding a 100 degree train to and from work each day. Hot yoga: Out. In March, I singed up for a beginners ceramics class at a studio in my neighborhood. Boy, did I struggle! At the end of the course, I had made five mugs, and four bowl-type vessels. My only true sense of pride came from the fact that I didn't miss a single class. I finally realized that I could commit to things. This was good. 

"A bowl only a mother could love" is how my ceramics teacher described my pieces.

When summer rolled around, I gave myself a break from "passion-hunting" and was reinvigorated by the freedom of having a car to use. I spent many beautiful weekends out of Chicago in Madison. 

Country Road

In the fall, I decided it was time to take advantage of the huge discount that Northwestern University offers employees--85% tuition coverage. I enrolled in an Introduction to Computer Programming class for no reason other than "Why Not?". It was really fun to be back in a formal classroom setting, and after a few nights of tearing my hair out, I actually got the hang of it. The class ended a few weeks ago and I can't say that I'm going to be the next Mark Zuckerberg. 

Finally as nerdy as I feel. 

After an exhausting year of thrusting myself into new hobbies, I'm surprisingly relived at the necessity to purchase a new calendar. I've been searching for a passion for so long that I've ignored the one quite literally at my fingertips: writing. I'm tired of trying to make things fit into my life that don't work for me. I'm not sure how much longer I'll be in the midwest, but I'm going to earnestly try to record my time here. If it doesn't work out, there's always next year's January 1st hangover to get me started again...