I'm sitting in a coffee shop in Clintonville being a complete hipster cliché, wearing my tortoise shell glasses, drinking from a massive cup of black coffee, and listening to a surprisingly quiet band called Fuck all while typing this blog entry on my white Macbook. I've accepted the fact that I am part of a group, a stereotype, a generalization. There's not much I can do about it other than to stop doing the things I enjoy. That isn't going to happen because then I'd be doing something like having a conversation about lawnmowers over a six-pack of Natty Lite while the game plays on a tiny television stacked on a milk crate. Exaggeration? Possibly, but that's sort of the opposite of anything I'd actually enjoy.
I'm thirty years old now. I've been alive for three decades. It's 2010 now. There's a science fiction novel with that title. That seems huge to me, like someone should be freaking out. Why isn't Fox News blowing this out of proportion, filling every ounce of airtime with continuous comparisons to reality with the occasional fabrication thrown in to keep things interesting. I guess after 1984 didn't come true and Y2K turned out to be nothing but a really great catchphrase, the idea of any one year being symbolic or extraordinary has become a silly thought. Well, at least until 2012 when that John Cusack disaster movie happens.
Personally, 2009 was quite incredible. I worked through a difficult, stressful job and now have anxiety pills as a result, only to switch companies for a lower position and a little bit higher pay. I developed many close friendships feeling more and more at home in Columbus every day. I started playing music again as well as messing with video editing and paying slightly more attention to my photography. Oh yeah, I bought a house, too.
I now own a washer and dryer, a lawnmower, a few sinks, a furnace, a hot water tank, lots of asbestos siding, some water hoses, a bathtub, a toilet, two refrigerators, many-but-never-enough electrical and cable outlets, two flights of stairs, quite a few light fixtures, lots of hardwood planks, various styles of tile, and a dog to destroy it all. So 2009 was big on acquiring things. I got lots of stuff. Lots of physical, hold in your hands, tangible stuff.
That doesn't mean the year was completely devoid of any emotional highs and lows. Actually the last year was quite incredible on that note as well. Being a gay man of course I want homo-marriage to become legal, but it wasn't until this year that it began to stir passion in me. Why? Because I've never begun to think about it as something not just feasible, but something I actually wanted until this year. Sure, I've made comments before and the thought has crossed my mind, but there was something about this year with Fred that really made me think about when we were going to get married.
I don't know if it was the instant-domestication that came with the house or some specific experience together, but I really feel as if now is the time, he is the man, Columbus is the place, and those rings at Tiffany's would look perfect on our fingers. Does that mean that it's going to happen soon? Probably not. I'd love to get married in the state in which I reside, but Ohio is still a little too Fruit Punch for that. What it means, at least to me, is that I'm thinking about it and that I want it and I think 2010 might involve a bit of getting to that point.
Maybe I can make this into my own personal Jennifer Aniston movie!