The year 2015 will mark eight years since I first started at Synthesis Weekly. With a column each week, that means I’ve written 416 columns. At 500 words a pop, that’s about 208,000 words I’ve written (not including any features, reviews or scene reports). Hot damn that’s a lot of drivel. High points include interviewing Nicole J. Georges (author of Calling Dr. Laura), being in a (total and utter bullshit) war of words with the author of the blog Has Boobs, Reads Comics over her dumb blog name, and (as a result of fixing a glitch in the Synthesis server), finding some nice emails from readers who haven’t yet been put off by my constant need to complain. Low points include anytime I’m banging my head against a wall at a loss for what to write for the week, and being involved in a (total and utter bullshit) war of words with the author of the blog Has Boobs, Reads Comics over her dumb blog name. [On further reflection from that incident, I stand by my assertions that that blog title does more to needlessly separate genders within the comic book reading community than anything else, but I wish I’d explained that more eloquently at the time, and that I’d known she was in a wheelchair before saying I wanted to punch her boob]. It’s not what I would name a blog, but who cares. If everything was created with me in mind, things would be a lot more unvaried. (“Pony” by Ginuwine would play on the radio on a loop, and dogs would be genetically modified to stay in puppy-form forever).
For the year to come, my hopes are high. If all goes well, I’ll graduate in May, finally fulfilling the rite of passage one usually accomplishes at a much younger age. I then plan on trying to accumulate enough money to relocate out of Chico, where you guys will finally, finally be rid of me! Until then, I look forward to continuing to treat this column like my weekly diary, where I wax lyrical about the mystery of the dog shit that continues to replicate outside my door every single day, and my ever-growing list of things I’m allergic to. Life is a highway, and I’m gonna ride it all night long, because I can’t sleep, and I think I’m allergic to the fabric content in this pillowcase. Please pass the Benadryl.
All-in-all, 2014 was a good year. If I may get a little metaphorical for a moment, the positive occurrences in 2014 were a lot like that dog shit outside my door. Just when I thought I had the patterns figured out, life threw me a curveball-left-of-the-doormat shit pile, and I stepped right in it. Thankfully though, a solution is never more than a hop, skip, and a hose away. You know what? I don’t even know what I’m saying anymore. I think 416 columns might be my limit. I’m hitting a wall. Namaste, you guys. Crappy New Year.