I celebrated the turn of the year following a three-year-long tradition: on the 31st of December we fill the house with New Year's Eve guests, and on the 1st of January we fill the house with more guests plus the ones that never left to celebrate my birthday, which falls on December 29th. And on the 2nd of January we lie around in zombie piles and order pizza.
This year there was extra celebration because of my graduation. I called it a Bachelor party, because that's what you have when you stop being a Bachelor. And become a Master instead. Or a Mistress. Whatever.
Anyway, lots of epic fun was had, and at some point I was presented with a complimentary victory cigar, junior size. As a person who has in her life smoked absolutely nothing, ever, it got me thinking. About how much holding a cigar in your mouth resembles holding your own penis in your mouth, a feat for which I have neither the flexibility nor the penis, and about when to smoke it. Obviously I am going to have to, one day, because I am every year more and more of the opinion that most acutely non-lethal things should be experimented with. The only question is to find an occasion worthy of cigar-smoking. This, however - turning 30 and becoming a Master of
Arts - was not it for some reason. Yet if this wasn't it, then what exactly do I want to achieve in my life? A doctorate is not it, and as much as I expect to turn 40, 50 and so on sooner or later, I doubt that will be a cigar-smoking achievement. After all, the only effort I have to make is not to die.
I worry about two things: First, that the year 2011 featured the crowning achievements of my whole life. Second, that I fail to recognize the things that I accomplish and belittle them instead, thus cheating myself out of happiness. Third, that I have just jinxed myself with the last sentence of the previous chapter.
I guess the challenge, let's not call it a resolution, for 2012 is finding new goals to work towards. When I started this blog last February, it was to mark a new beginning. Most of the things I listed then
have happened: commission hats, check
; dissertation, bitch, check
; new website... oh well.
Other things have happened, as well.
A spring boat trip to Stockholm with bingo, quaint tearooms and voodoo exhibitions.
The annual trip to Lammi flax festival, where there were baby sheep.
Leisurely garden existence and many, many dead little animals.
A kitten lost and found.
The big, huge, scary, amazing project of Lucha Libre!
that has irrevocably changed the rest of my fucking life.
Lucha Libre! also marked the beginning of my burlesque career: a career that continued in December when I performed with my group, Stage Fright! at Helsinki Burlesque's Newcomers' Night with not just one but two numbers. One was the same show from Lucha with a new, improved Skeleton Crew.
|I cannot get over how hot my skeleton dancers were!|
And another, completely new one, this time not as La Mujerta the ruda wrestling queen, but with a more permanent burlesque identity: Lauren Fuckall. The number was a tragic western ballad that I choreographed and performed together with Scarlett Wilde (not featured in the picture) and I am so very proud of it, and us.
|Picture by Tuomas Lairila.|
And, of course, so many craft projects that I failed to either finish, take pictures of, or make a post on. Good thing there's a whole other year to do better, or worse. An entire new year to live, dream, do, make stuff, experience, be awesome.
I feel lucky.