Quick moment to reflect, as I'll be too busy for the next three days. Wish I could say something more profound then what I plan to type out.

Simply put, 2003 was the best year I've had alive for a number of reasons.

The least of which was turning 30. No elaboration needed, I hope.

The greatest of which was getting the book out just a couple of months shy of my most depressing birthday, just as I promised in spite of the fact that no one believed I could pull it off. No one, except (barely) me.

Though the accomplished feat itself was ample reward, I also saw critical acclaim (well, one or two guys liked it, and said so in print and on the web), good sales in the open mic/slam and independent bookstore circuits, a reading for family and old friends in my hometown, featured readings elsewhere with more in the future, upcoming publication in print journals for 2004, an award, and even an essay prize for a contest I wouldn't have had the guts to enter a year ago. For someone who rode on just about nothing for years, it means a lot.

None of it would have mattered if it wasn't for the fact that I managed to become a better person as well, showing that all I've been through since the new millenium taught me a thing or two. I forget who said it was tough being a good writer and a good human being, but I balanced both the best I could, with results that didn't leave me in disgust of myself. After three years of evictions, court battles, rejection and struggling to get back on my feet, I came out feeling more civilized and connected with the world. How about that?

Thinking on the cliched concept of resolutions: In my apartment, somewhere on the edge of my desk, close to my framed first award, is an unframed letter from the youngest daughter of my ex-girlfriend. Some days, I would have killed for her to be my own daughter. Her letter, written during the summer one day when she went to work with her mom, damn near tells me she shares the same sentiments. I don't normally mention relationships by name, but the smiles we shared with each other even after the break up did much to help keep me going.

First thing after the holidays, I intend on having her letter framed.

Letting go does not mean forgeting.

Mandy, if you're reading this, thank you. I hope to still see how you're doing once in a while.

My best friend Mike heads to South America in April for military training. I can only hope the events from last year (which few people seem to identify accurately as madness) will come to some kind of a resolution before he sees combat for what, to me, seems like the most senseless of endevours. Until then, I definitely resolve to stand by him as much as I can. Hopefully, our desire to do right will always conquer our polar opposite idealogues as well as the wills of so-called leaders who pull our strings.

Oh, yes, and my new girlfriend and I are overdue for a meet up. Man, I thought hollidays were supposed to bring people together. This time, we're apart until the 9th! Oh, well.

Enough rambling drivel. Best to all. Good night. Good year.