So, in the two previous posts, I have made reference to how 2025 got off to rather a rough start (I even used the same pic twice!) but did not go into details. Let’s do that now. I am not going to include the aforementioned pic for a third time, but that rather colorful bruise resulted from my landing ass-first on a graveled part in the car park of where I live. I sat there, six minutes into 2025, pretty blotto, and had a feeling 2025 might be a bit of a shitshow. And, boy, was I ever right – at least for the first three months or so, that is. (I’d fallen trying to get a better view of the NYE fireworks. Not sure why because my first view was pretty much perfect.)
Technically, my 2025 got off to a bad start at around lunch time on NYE when I discovered my pick-up order from Wing Stop was wrong in every way it could possibly be – boneless wings instead of bone-in (which, let’s get this out of the way now, the very essence of a chicken wing are its bones. Without them, it is not a chicken wing, it is a chicken nugget and should always be described as such. Rant over); blue cheese dressing instead of ranch and – the very worst - carrot sticks instead of fries. Oh, the humanity.
I do wonder, however, if that way healthier lunch was part of my Higher Power’s way of trying to get me in shape. Because 2025 saw the closing of two of my favorite drinking and dining establishments (that makes five in the past three or four years). But a 24-hour liquor store did open up which I can get to without making a left turn, so suck on that, Higher Power.
So, yeah, the first three months of my 2025 also saw a Convicted Felon becoming president; a close family member diagnosed with Alzheimer’s; a crackhead running wild at the office; and someone attempting to break into my apartment in the middle of the night.
Those last two events were pretty effing scary but because of my being a sociopath with a death wish, they really didn't have that much effect on me.
But the rest of 2025 wasn’t too bad, apart from a $1,400 car bill (new tires, etc.) and $100 spent on hiring a handyman to do a few things around my apartment because I don’t have any male friends or butch female friends who’d do it for way cheaper; and the end of a 15-year friendship.
Although that came about because of what was probably the highlight of my 2025: I became a radio star! Not really, but for a couple weeks in early October, the lucky listeners of the campus radio station were witness to my dulcet tones telling them about the upcoming Ren Faire. That was so much fun. I was given a short script and told to read it. I could not change the wording, and they did not want it done in any sort of accent except my own.
I sent the recording to a lot of friends. One of them replied with this:
“Try this…Learning to speak passable faire Elizabethan is easy. It simply requires some practice of the pronunciation, and some memorization of common vocabulary.”
What the actual fuck? But coming from this particular person it really wasn’t much of a surprise; she has a very acidic tongue and when she insults or hurts someone, she blames it on their lack of a sense of humor. She reminds me of the “Bygones” guy in Ally McBeal. And she was oddly obsessed with my getting a boyfriend. When Sammy died, she wrote on Facebook “Well, at least you can get a boyfriend now.” One time, via text, she referenced an individual on 90 Day Fiancé who had a severe form of dwarfism and said, “If she can get a boyfriend, why can’t you?” This coming from someone who met her husband AT HER FRONT GATE. I’d been getting a little tired of her negative energy anyway, but this really was the last straw.
Health-wise, it was an interesting year. I started a new cocktail of pills that have helped me drop some OCD habits. For example, if I watch the very first episode of a TV show, I have to watch it until its bitter end, no matter if it has gotten crap or I have lost interest. Not now, though: I stopped cold turkey watching three TV shows, and mid-season too. That sort of behavior was unthinkable two years ago.
What else? I didn’t get a bird, despite desperately wanting to, because pretty much all my friends on Facebook warned me against it.
But I did dye my hair black, something I have wanted to do for a very long time. Interestingly, this led to my discovery that hair dye does not, in fact, grow out; rather, it fades out. I’d never noticed this when I was dying my hair just two or three shades lighter. I loved my hair black, it really brought out my inner goth chick (Elsinore) and when I am in the position to get it done professionally and regularly, I will.
And that is about it really for my 2025. I have reconnected with some of my college cohort, and some interesting things have come from that that I might include here. And on the fifth anniversary of this post, I intend to do a follow-up because it has proven to be quite interesting.
So, I am going to leave you with a quote I found that well, I could have written it, because, since Sammy has gone, completely sums up I feel:
