Living for the Revel (catvalente) wrote,
Living for the Revel
catvalente

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Auld Lang...You Know

I'm very serious when I say that up until a few weeks ago, I was totally unaware that a decade was ending.

It still doesn't feel like it. Maybe because there's nothing to call this decade, maybe because we're all so grumpy about 2009 ending that a few decade lists online are all that seem to be marking the big era.

But it wasn't like this in 1989 or 1999--I distinctly remember. As I was busy being born, I cannot speak for 1979. There seems to be just no fanfare about this. Maybe we want it to be over. Politically, socially, this was a shit decade.

Tomorrow I'll be with justbeast 's family watching the bells ring over the Kremlin--not how I thought I would be spending New Year ten years ago, certainly. One of the adjustments of marriage, that I've always adored New Year's but now have to spend it with in-laws. It's good, in a different way, but I miss my friends at midnight. After the big bong we'll be over at theferrett  and zoethe 's for their party--maybe they'll take pity on us and redo the countdown so I can turn the decade with friends, too? Probably not. But still. 

I remember 1999--I was in Sacramento with caudelac  and my ex-husband and a few other friends. We read poetry to each other til midnight. We ate and drank a lot and stayed up all night. I was living in San Diego at the time, just having started college there.

When I look at this decade, it's boggling how much living I crammed into it. The 90s were tame in comparison, and I was a Troubled Teen in the 90s. In the last ten years I have: lived in three different countries, six different states, traveled to eleven different countries and all but four of the fifty states, got really comfortable and able to feel at home in NYC, got married twice, wrote my first novel, graduated once and dropped out once, published twelve books, seven fiction and five poetry, fell in love, fell out of love, had the worst break up of my life (not my divorce), met the love of my life, was the loneliest I could ever be, found a tribe, met my heroes, became close friends with some of them, started blogging (in 00, so this is my ten year anniversary--Diarylanders represent!), embraced the internet, bought a house, sold a house, got divorced, reconciled with my family, lost friends, gained them, gained lovers, lost them, finally moved to the state I've wanted to live in all my life, entered so many sub-cultures I never knew existed. Found myself, really. It was the decade when I really came of age. Came into myself. Ten years ago I was a worried, harried Classics undergrad in a seriously problematic relationship that would go on another six years and dreaming of someday traveling off of the west coast of America.

I was lucky enough to be born in 1979, so the decades roughly correspond to even numbered decades in my life. The naughts were my twenties. It was fucking insane, when I think about it. Truly horrible and truly sublime. I suppose that's what 2009 was like, too, in microcosm. Parts of it were the darkest hours we've known, individually and as a couple. Parts of it were so personally difficult it took me ages to recover. But there was Palimpsest, and the train, and Fairyland, and the last quarter of the year in which I not only got married to my darling beast, but he finally found a job and we got housemates and in the midst of fear that my literary life was coming to a close, suddenly sold an adult trilogy, a YA duology, two standalones and a children's picture book. Holy roller coaster, Batman.

Obviously, would like good parts without dark hours next year, plz. But it doesn't work that way. They come together, and I can only hope the teens will be as amazing and surprising and crazed as the decade before. Because out of all that I got this life, and this life is so far beyond what I ever thought I'd be living back in 1999.

The future rules.

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