This weekend marks one year since I moved out of my father's house after 2+ years of some of the lowest points in my life. Time on Rascher Ave. was of course peppered with some good to great moments (reconnecting with my college love who I still speak with on occasion; cultivating a 1-1/2 year relationship with D, quite possibly the last woman I truly felt connected with). Moving to my present digs, as some of you may know, was stressful to say the least. Getting little to no help from my brothers, I leaned on friends to pitch in at about the closest I ever want to get to the "home stretch". I do not speak with most of these friends anymore out of fear and embarassment (which again, some of you probably know).
Settling back in today after driving through the mess that was Chicago's first winter storm of the season, it occured to me that with all the ups and downs, the agony and ecstacy I've endured this year, were I to get a chance to go back and do anything different, I wouldn't change a damn thing (save for the lying and cheating of course).
I see bright things on the horizon for 2008 and with both feet planted firmly in the Here and Now, next year should improve upon 2007.
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Assorted ramblings from a big mouth who should know better than to blog about anything remotely personal.
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