2008 In A Nutshell

(format h/t Larke)

In 2008 I wrote a letter to Al Gore (like right away. 12:07am 1/1/08); wrote a pageant for AdNaus; wrote a one-man play on commission; wrote the end of Instant Breakfast; and didn’t write nearly as much as I should have.

I acted in a play where I danced with a shadow; met a girl on the subway and then on craigslist; registered people to vote; filed way too many papers; went to amazing concerts; read a lot of good books; had a play produced in the New York International Fringe Festival; learned some Czech and forgot it again; reread and reviewed my childhood ephemera; recorded ridiculous museum tours on podcast; left New York and moved to Prague; mourned the fuck out of David Foster Wallace; voted for the winning Presidential candidate for the first time (batting .333 now); and continued in the most wonderful relationship I’ve ever ever had. Ever. Like ever.

I fell in love with lychees, Olafur Eliasson, several people I didn’t intend to, the Brooklyn Bridge, and a very small section of Brooklyn right there along the Bridge where it’s possible to sit on rocks by the water and dream about the end of the world.

I was thankful to be in Chicago; begrudgingly admiring of Los Angeles; inspired by Washington DC; rained on in Dublin; wowed by Prague; and heartbroken by the continued existence of New York without me.

I made friends, had amazing times with friends, and tried to keep up friendships from thousands of miles away. I finally explored the area around Columbia University, finally rode public transportation in California, and finally decided what to write next.

Oh and I watched The Room. A lot. Like really, a lot.

Still: pretty good year.

I have to go now, 2008. Bye.