Day 4: 2016, the year that won’t die, even as it takes childhood icons to the stars.

cuckoo

I haven’t posted in a few weeks, mainly because the past few weeks have been the equivalent of a nuclear bomb detonated in the middle of the living room here. Hubs and I are as good as ever, kids are safe, I will not go into details is it would violate the privacy of someone I would kill for.

Now that is an interesting concept: would you kill for someone? My mom has always had a saying: “I wouldn’t go to jail for anyone, no one is worth that”, and I finally realized she meant she would not sacrifice herself or her freedom to take the fall for someone else, and I can totally get behind that. However: you screw with my family, you hurt someone I love? I positively cannot be held responsible for the temporary insanity that coincides with your demise. Mind you, I don’t mean petty offenses, but lately, I have found out that the most stable, loving, involved family can have a horrible person sneak in through a window when all the doors are locked and wreak havoc.

That is metaphorical, and we have fortunately not suffered a home invasion. Of course, the euphemisms that describe something much more terrible aren’t as relaxed as we would like to think…

So, today is December 27, 2016, and we all received the awful news that Carrie Fisher, Princess Leia died today, after losing George Michael on Christmas Day, preceded by Alan Thicke, Prince, David Bowie, and Alan Rickman… add the election of Trumplethinskin, the Mango Mussolini, and as far as I am concerned, 2016 can die in a dumpster fire, because it has been a vicious year.

I am fully aware that a Georgian calendar is not sentient and as such gives no amount of fucks about us, or our puny existence on this tiny blue marble hurtling through space, but damn, it sure feels like the hits keep coming with malevolent intent. I swear on the nearest crow that if we lose Betty White before this colossal turd of a year is done having its way with us, I will maniacally say: “Eh, screw it, give tRump the codes, this planet is due for a reset button push”.. and I might even mean it when I utter the words.

And to add insult to injury? No new yard birds. No Evening Grosbeaks, no Pine Grosbeaks, no Common Redpolls, no Snowy Owls, though the latter was a longshot no matter what. At this point, I am just rooting for the Bald Eagles across the street to lay a few viable eggs in late January, and to see eaglets fledge in April.

Bah.

I will say this: my thesis is beginning to get more than a passing nod from me at this point, and I can’t wait to get back to Indiana to defend and finally be done, February will see me viewing the Chili Peppers with one of my best friends, plus a road trip up the eastern seaboard – wait, who does that in February??? Oldest spawn will be getting contacts, going to skills camp for her preferred sport, and I am already planning my gardens, plus a bluebird/chickadee trail around the grass area, and looking forward to the return of the breeding icterids.

In other words? I am going to make 2017 my bitch. 2016 brought some amazing new things in life, and I am going to make damned sure 2017 is even better.

Deep breaths, and really? Look for the good, acknowledge that sometimes seriously shitty things happen, but don’t let them define you. Enjoy a walk outdoors tonight and marvel at the stars. Understand that the internet has both made the world a tiny place and brought fantastic people to your side. Sip a cup of your favorite beverage and appreciate the fact that you can still do so.

In the words of the infamous Jerry Springer: “Be good to yourself, and each other.”

Even better, TC from the Bangor, Maine Police Department: “Keep your hands to yourself, leave other people’s things alone and be kind to one another.”

I believe I like that one just a wee bit more, and if you haven’t had a chance to enjoy the humor of a Northeastener, I highly recommend the Facebook page of said department.

 

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