kitsjay: (Friendship)
Or rather, how it will, because it hasn’t happened yet. I mean, it’s a little too soon to tell, is all I’m saying—I’m not telling this right, am I? Okay, okay, back up, so:

Once upon a time, Kitty had a driver’s license. T’was an awful picture, but the mean, wicked DMV refused to change it. Whatever, DMV, whatever. So anyway, our fair heroine shrugged and went on with said picture, but being somewhat absent-minded, she oft tucked it away in her jeans pocket and forgot about it. It grew bent and creased, but she only had a year to go before replacing it with a new, better driver’s license.

That said, again, she’s kind of absent-minded, so she tucked it away somewhere and though she searched far and low for her lost driver’s license, she could not find it!

“Alas!” she cried, for she was sore vexed at the prospect of asking the mean, wicked DMV for a replacement, “What shall I do?”

Well, kiddos, this is what you does: you roll with it.

No, really.

If I’ve learned anything, it’s that you’ve got to find the humor in these situations, and laugh at them. In my case, losing a driver’s license sucks, but it’s not that big of a deal, except… it’s kind of hilarious. New Year’s is all about new beginnings, finding the new you (for the next three months, before the old you returns and asks where all their stuff is), all that jazz. And for me, this was a metaphorical new me. My driver’s license is from when I was sixteen. I was overweight, still in high school, at times fiercely unhappy and other times boundlessly enthusiastic, and looking back, I’m not that person anymore.

You know how when someone loses weight, and you’ve been with them the whole time, it’s hard to tell? But go away for three months and suddenly it’s, “Wow, you’ve changed so much!”?

We can’t go away for three months from ourselves, so we never really see how we’ve changed until we see an old picture or remember something from the past and laugh and think, “Was I ever that stupid/naïve/awesome?”

So yeah. I don’t normally make New Year’s resolutions, but since the old me is both literally and metaphorically going through a shift change, I am this year. Maybe the New Me makes resolutions now.

The point is, I’m making changes. This New Year’s, I was surrounded by people I love who were all mumbling their way through Auld Lang Syne until the chorus when seven drunken would-be Pavarotti's began belting out the familiar parts, but none of them were people I hung out with last year. I’ve got old friends still that I wouldn't trade for the world, but I’ve got new friends too.

And I think, sometimes, that the true point of New Year’s is to remind ourselves that change is sometimes not all bad. That sometimes it’s necessary. That sometimes the new looks a lot like the old, and sometimes it’s all about something different.

So even though getting a new driver’s license is a pain, it’s also indicative of something greater.

Or maybe I just really don’t want to admit that I’m that absent-minded.

Either way, happy new year, kids. Have fun this time around, and hopefully I’ll see you around next one.
kitsjay: (Cheers)
SEAN: You should probably send Mike an email and ask him what the kids eat. Do they sell kid food at the pet store? It's pellets, right? They eat pellets?
kitsjay: (Cheers)
A few mornings ago, I was taking the trash out when I saw my neighbor had left his outside of his door, presumably to take it down when he left for work. I was headed that way, so I picked his up and took them with mine.

This morning, the same thing happened, and like I said, it was on my way, so I did it again.

When I woke up and stumbled into the kitchen for a dose of caffeine, Sean handed me a piece of paper. Printed on it was a note:

"From the desk of Carlton H.

Thank you so very much for taking my trash bags downstairs! Welcome, new neighbor!"

with the man's signature beneath it.

Sean looked up at me seriously. "Kitty is recognized for her neighborly helpfulness. +2 Friendliness."

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kitsjay

January 2014

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