Good-bye, '05

Dear Old Year,

Well, it's almost time, isn't it? Time for a farewell kiss and a parting embrace. You were an excellent year, and I'm sorry to see you go. I know it's not good to hold onto the past. You are leaving to make way for the new, and this is as it should be. Still, on our last day together, I want to remember. I want to think about all the rich changes you've worked into my life. I want to thank you. I am truly grateful. I mean, think about how much we have been through together!

Remember our first meeting? I was sick as a dog, a sniffling misery. Not a promising start to a new year, but once you settled in, you definitely got things rolling. You made me a graduate student, and you helped me discover that I am capable of dizzying intellectual pursuits. I wrote a paper that earned me accolades on Scholar's Day. You proved to me that I can withstand the rigors of teaching. You showed me that my creativity is a rare treasure. You let me see that not everyone has what I have, and the knowledge is humbling (no, really! It is!).

You gently suggested that I worry too much about meaningless trivia. When I didn't get the message, you hit me over the head with it -- several times, very hard. You had an ugly side. You were war, hurricanes, and violence. And you took Rider away... again. There were several moments when I really hated you.

No, 2005, our relationship has not been all roses, has it? You were cruel. So much of your cruelty wasn't visited upon me, but upon people I loved. A cousin lost her mother. A friend lost her boyfriend, two cousins, and her grandfather within a few months. And Hurricane Katrina cost so, so much. These were not direct hits on me, but they hurt. I discovered that I whine and worry about things that don't matter. You gave me valuable knowledge about perspective, but the price was awfully high.

You forced the most challenging semester upon me, and even though I stumbled at the end, I didn't fall. You embarrassed me, and I learned more about myself through that experience than in a whole year of therapy. You delivered an indelible lesson about showing off, and I really got the message -- probably for the first time. You taught me that I can learn from others: I don't always have to be the teacher or the counselor. It was humiliating; it made me feel terrible. It was worth it.

But what you really showed me -- more than anything -- is that there are people who love me. In spite of all my failings, I have managed to surround myself with family and friends who support and sustain me. I don't always treat them the way I should: I take them for granted far too often. You reminded me how precious they are, and how much of myself I owe to them.

Yes, 2005, you were a powerful year of learning and changing. You hummed through me, and exploded over me, and carried me to new places. You were tragedy and loss. You were introspection and insight. You made me feel proud of myself, and ashamed of myself, and -- wonder of wonders -- at peace with myself. I feel sad that you have to go just when we were getting comfortable with one another. Still, you are leaving a different Trants than the girl whom you met a year ago. Because of you, I am stronger and more capable than before. Because of you, I have deep faith in my dreams. Because of you, I recognize the places where I need to grow, and I'm not scared to venture into them. I don't know how many other people get this kind of year. Maybe you're an anomaly.

No, I don't believe that. In my heart, I know that you were only the beginning, a promise of things to come. 2006 will bring new challenges and changes, and after that, who knows? But as we say goodbye, you must know how thankful I am to have had you -- just for a year. A very good year.

Love,
Trants

Welcome Christmas

Welcome Christmas, bring your cheer.

Cheer to all Whos far and near.

Christmas Day is in our grasp

so long as we have hands to clasp.

Christmas Day will always be

just as long as we have we.

Welcome Christmas, while we stand

Heart to heart, and hand to hand.

For everything else...

The end of the semester:

Rolaids, Coffee, and No-Doz: $52.50

Manicure to repair bitten nails: $28.36

Gas to and from college during last week of class: $90.48

Cost of personal hygiene products just to feel human again: $22.00

Chance in hell of getting above a C- in the lit class: 0

Value of finding out that I got four As and an A-, resulting in a 3.97 GPA before student teaching:

PRICELESS

And y'all can make fun of me if you want. I was so sure that I was going to drop the bottom out with the final term paper debacle. Go on, say "I told you so." I won't care. I'm so happy, I won't care. I did not get a C-. I got an A-. Hallelujah!

This was the hardest semester ever, and I pulled through. I am unscathed. Did you hear that, Clarence? I want to live! I want to live!

Merry Christmas, you beautiful old Building and Loan!

Joke of the Day

Q:What do you call the torrent of tears I've cried since Rider left for Iraq?

A: The Miss-A-Sissy River.


And I come up with these things all on my own, people. Can you believe it? Okay, it's not really funny unless you have a sister in Iraq, which in itself is not funny at all. But still...

Thank you, thank you. I'll be here all week.

Done

Well, it's done. No, not the paper I was working on, but the semester. I had fourteen pages written, with no real conclusion, no main point -- but I had to turn it in because the buildings were closing and my teacher called "Enough." I spent all yesterday kicking myself. I had a chance for an A in every class this semester -- I needed a 91 on the paper to get an A. But it's two days late and woefully short, and she'd have to be on crack to give it a 91. Luckily, I just need a 25 to pass the class with a C-. How far the mighty have fallen! I went from a potential A to a probably C- in the space of two short days.

But you know, I'm okay with it. Yes, I will have 11 As and 1 C- on my transcript. And what do people use that transcript for, I ask you? A school may or may not look at it when hiring me, because what's really important is the student teaching portion of all of this. And I intend to kick student teaching ass.

I can bear the C. This semester was crazy tough. I was overloaded anyway, and it occurred to me this morning that I have been overloaded since last January. I took five graduate classes last semester, two over the summer, and five this semester. I worked for my mother. I took four on-call shifts each month. I took two major teaching exams. This was a marathon, and I took a tumble at the end and lost my lead. Who cares? I finished. And that one C (which I don't even know that I got) does not in anyway neutralize my As. I will still have a 3.8 average.

What's more important is what I have learned this semester. Not content, of course -- I never retain any actual subject matter. I learned a lot about myself. Some of it was not pleasant, but all of it was helpful.

I did an on-line tarot reading a few weeks ago, just for fun (no, really!) and the card that came up for my "challenge" was Death. Don't be scared, gentle reader -- it does not indicate that I am going to die. With this deck, the Death card means accepting the end of something, letting it go. I wondered what that could mean last week; I had forgotten that the semester was going to end. I kept thinking, "Should I let go of my writing dream? Let go of the baby dream?" Questions that indicate that I was taking my fun reading just a tad too seriously, because I will NEVER let go of those dreams.

And then classes ended. And then this paper hung on and on, and I kept writing and writing but the pages never seemed to get any fatter. So yesterday, when my professor was like, "Why don't you just give me what you've got and let it go?" I thought, Oh. Uh-huh. I get it now.

I'm left with a sense of relief, a little regret, and a whole lot of excitement at the next chapter. I've got six weeks to get ready for student teaching. I'm cleaning today, and decorating for Christmas, and missing my sister, and readying for visits with family. Last night, I started writing the Bridge set-piece for my story, and I like where it's going.

When I was a camp counselor, I used to get sent at least one or two homesick campers per week. It was like I was the designated homesick-camper-counselor. And I used to have them hold up their pinky finger and look at the lines on it. "See that little line right there?" I'd say. "Out of your whole life, that little line is one year. And in that little line is a little dot. And that little dot is one week of camp. Can you even see that dot? I can't. Not when I look at your whole life."

One little C out of a whole life of learning and growing. Y'know, it ain't so bad.