I am DETERMINED to post about the new year because for the the entire last half of 2012 I kept thinking, “this year is so weird. I can’t wait to post about it on New Year’s eve.”
Now that it’s December 31 for real all I want to do is go to bed at 7:33 and forget about this “see the new year in” rot. But I won’t. I’ll prop my eyes open with toothpicks and write.
SO many things happened in 2012. I will make a list.
- My entire youth group fell in love. Well, more accurately, about 9/10’s of my youth group fell in love, depending on your definitions of “youth group” and “in love.”
- Several people died seemingly before their time. Most notably Jana Mong, Jeff Kropf, and Rachael Witmer. I didn’t really know any of the three, but I have friends who were very close to them.
- My church had a hard year, and I had to watch my parents (pastor and pastor’s wife) struggle through things I feel they shouldn’t have had to struggle through.
- A lot of people in my family, five of my cousins and one of my aunts, had new babies. Most notably, my cousin Annette, who has tried to have a baby for years, was able to adopt as sweet little boy named Justice. That’s what I call sweet Justice. (Har har)
Now, the weird thing is, everything happened to my friends, nothing happened to me. I didn’t fall in love or have a loved one die or struggle through church issues or have a baby. But I still felt emotion for all these things, because they happened to people I loved.
I call it “secondhand emotion.” I call 2012 the “Year of Secondhand Emotion.”
As for what happened to ME PERSONALLY, I will only say that I met some very interesting people with unique quirks who will most definitely end up in a novel someday.
If you’re scared, you should have treated me better.
(That’s a classic writer joke, in case you didn’t catch on. But it’s a widdle bit true-ish.)
Now, a few Facebook pictures to finish it off.
Oops, this computer won’t let me post pictures. NEVER FEAR, I will tell you what you can do instead. Go to facebook.com, and search for “Emily Sara Smucker.” I promise every picture I was going to post is right there.
Of course those photos were primarely posted by other people, and missing the witty commentary I would provide if they were on my blog. Therefore, if you come upon a picture that you want more info about, you can email me at Jemilys@gmail.com, saying “What’s with the picture of you and some other girl sitting on what looks like a rooftop?” I will reply and say, “one day this summer, me and my friend Anna had a sleepover, and in the morning we sat on the roof to eat our breakfast.”
See? Problem solved, and it was way easier than going to the bother of posting pictures. Just watch me eat my words when 77 people decide to email me asking about the same pictures. But that’s okay, because I use copy and paste and also I like emails. The only people who email me these days are pinterest and spotify, and I don’t even use pinterest and spotify.
Also, Netflix emails me saying “Emily!! Come baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack!!!” And then I reply and say “I’m so sorry, but our relationship just won’t work! It’s not you, it’s me!” Then I feel like I’m part of a star-crossed romance instead of just a bystander while 9/10’s of my youth group falls in love.
(Again, har har)
Okay well, goodnight, see you next year.
Greatness, so it seems to me, often springs suddenly from a mire of tedium and “are we there, yet?”s, and though nice guys (girls, too, I’d imagine) finish last, I have it on good authority that laughing last is laughing best. Which is to say that in those times when life seems to happen exclusively to others, I try to encourage myself by thinking “Ah, but I am on the prowl.”
Oh. Also, if we’re just vain, and want to appear in as many novels as possible, ought we just seek you out and anonymously mistreat you?
This made me laugh out loud! I guess interesting people have a good chance of at least partially making it into a novel, whether they are nice or mean. The mean ones simply have a less flattering depiction, meaning they probably mind more, meaning if they mind they should have treated me better.