I made two resolutions last year at this time. The first was to floss my teeth every single day; a resolution I’ve kept. The second resolution I’ve forgotten, which is probably why I think it may have been a more serious resolution, something along the lines of write every day, one of those character-enriching resolutions we’re supposed to make. I doubt I’ll ever write enough to satisfy my own expectations. But I’m proud of the flossing.

In December, Dogpoet’s second anniversary (Dec. 7th) came and went. My mother’s birthday (Dec. 21st) came and went. I’ve read a dozen books but still have a pile unread, thanks to compulsive trips to the bookstore. I didn’t buy enough Christmas presents and called myself selfish a few times, as though by saying it out loud I could excuse myself. My Christmas spirit kicked in about 3 pm on Christmas Eve, a little late to pretend to be a decent Santa Claus. I mailed out my applications to three grad schools, thus ending a four-month project for which I must have written and re-written fifty pages of new material.

Along the way I jotted down a couple of rough drafts for this site, but then set them aside. I’m less satisfied with second and third drafts than I used to be; anything good deserves time and reflection, two qualities that are inimical to blogging. And my first drafts tend to suck be a little humorless. Now and then I’ve thought about stopping, or quitting; a thought I have every few months but then discard.

It’s been a frustrating year in many respects (I’m still waiting for someone I vote for to be elected), and let’s face it, the world hardly needs another web site. But I’m stubborn as hell. Or just plain self-centered.

I’m sitting here, the first day of the year, staring at the blinking cursor on my screen, wondering what the hell it is I’m trying to say. I guess I’m trying to mark the occassion somehow; to acknowledge the passage of time. For all of my grumblings, dogpoet has, without a doubt, been one of the greatest gifts in my life. It’s also been a pain in the ass, a veritable ball-and-chain. But an attractive ball-and-chain. And while my postings may have diminished in frequency, they’ve…er, grown…in other ways. I guess what I’m saying is that I’m still curious. About how my life has changed because of this site. About the people who have become my friends. About the fact that if it weren’t for this site, I probably wouldn’t have had the nerve, or the raw material, to apply to grad school. And then I wouldn’t have a possible escape from the land of Real Jobs, which would be a problem because I’m unqualified for most of them.

I’m still curious about what dogpoet will drudge up for me in the coming year. Maybe I’m being a little sentimental, and maybe writing about writing is just another one of my annoying traits, like bragging about flossing my teeth. But it seemed like the thing to do, today.