Prompt (Originally for 12/9): Party
What social gathering rocked your socks off in 2010? Describe the people, music, food, drink, clothes, shenanigans.
I used to consider myself quite the wild thing: tequila shots on the top of the speaker at the dance club in Mykonos at 4:00 in the morning. The whole bit. I have a whole closet full of sparkly clothes and a photo album full of indiscreet photos to prove it.
But in 2010 my favorite party was small—just me, my boyfriend, and one of our all-time favorite couples. Red wine. Phil’s puttanesca. Board games. Sweat pants.
My old party self used to be a firecracker, a sparkler, the lit fuse at the end of a bomb. I like to think I still have fire, but it’s more of the crackling, flickering bonfire variety. The kind people want to gather around and warm up to and drink a cup of hot chocolate in front of. And I think I’m ok with that.
Prompt for 12/10 (That’s right! I’m Caught up! Woot!): Wisdom
What was the wisest decision you made this year, and how did it play out?
I wouldn’t say it was a wise decision to quit my job on December 31, 2009. Especially because the storm that’s become know as the Great Recession was still in full gale. Especially because my job had a lot of perks, like stability and a free cafeteria and dental insurance. Especially because I wasn’t sure what my new career path had in store for me.
(I may have mentioned all of this earlier. And I’ll probably mention it again, since that was pretty much the theme of 2010. So consider yourself forewarned.)
What I was sure of was the song my heart was singing, the steady 808 demanding I march to the beat of a different drummer. I had tried to ignore it for a long time, but the sound, the bass, had become deafening. It was either follow it or go crazy from trying to ignore the tune.
Now I get paid to write. I have time to work on my own writing, like the amazing #reverb10 project. The rest of the stuff—co-pays, rent, milk money—somehow miraculously works itself out every month. In 2010, I learned that being wise is listening to your heart, not your checkbook
Footnote: Looking back I feel especially pleased with my decision, because it turns out I wasn’t the only one who jumped ship in search of a dream in 2010. One of the byproducts of the recession seems to be that people got pissed: pissed at the rat race, at working 70 hour weeks and never seeing the sun or their children, at making lots of money but not having time to spend it. (And then watching that money disappear from their 401k when the boys on Wall Street decided to play it fast and loose). Now there’s this thing called the Slow Job Movement. It’s a revolution in how people work and play, and I’m happy to say that I was a part of it in 2010.