So, I did some things in 2008.
I was Crispin Glover's photo elf.
I got to see Xanadu on Broadway.
I had a political theory proven right within thirty minutes of McCain's concession speech.
I've made a successful go of not having channels or the Internet in my home.
I finally lost the Christmas spirit completely.
I read all of the Dune books.
I designed curricula for three different possible Cinema Studies classes.
I had two of my photographs published in an international publication (Remix Magazine, December 2008 issue).
I invested locally in two start-up businesses.
I got my certification as a sexually healthy human being (which everyone should do).
I learned how to drive a stick shift.
I survived (barely) the scuttling of All The Rage.
I created this blog.
I saw Bette Midler in Las Vegas.
I had an amazing interview/ongoing adventure with Canadian filmmaker Guy Maddin.
I learned that Caesar's Pizza really is the best in Nashville.
I read all the Harry Potter books.
I soldiered on after my house flooded.
I went to the one local wedding I was invited to, but still bear some grumbly rage at the six or seven I was not invited to.
I added Naproxen and Flexeril to my pharmacopia because of freaky biofeedback in my arms.
I saw three hundred and eighty-nine films.
I bid farewell to Constacia, my 1996 Pontiac Grand Prix, and welcomed Brangwen, my 1990 Saab 900.
I lost my weight loss mojo.
I read all the Sookie Stackhouse books.
I never missed a scheduled work shift.
I'm apparently being added to a decently prestigious survey of critics (More on this as it develops).
And despite all this, I still haven't been able to finish the first Twilight book. I've been trying since the day I saw the movie, and I'm still a hundred and fifty or so pages from the end. I've never had this happen with a book before, and I'm utterly flummoxed. I'll say this, though, for Stephenie Meyer; she's the first author who made me think that her book could have its own drinking game, and here's how you do it: everytime Edward says "tell me what you're thinking," you take a drink. Though it's not my fault if you die of alcohol poisioning before anything happens in the book, which you will.