shameless romanticism

This is going to be an extremely self-consicous entry. It’s going to be self-conscious first and foremost because I woke up this morning thinking about my blog and thinking about all the stuff I’ve written here and wondering if any of it will someday come back to haunt me. Especially as I am transitioning to a new job in the new year and all of that grown up stuff. It’s one of those thoughts I have after I’ve written about such “controversial” things as gay marriage, global warming and clitorides. (There’s a sentence I never thought I’d write.) And I find myself wanting to self-censor or edit or bury this site in some secret corner of the web.

It’s also going to be self-conscious because I want to write something shamelessly romantic and sentimental because, among other things, it’s the holidays and the year is coming to a close and I’m so looking forward to all the changes that are coming in the next few months. In the next seven. In the next year or two. It feels a lot like growing up.

And whenever I feel the desire to write something shamelessly romantic and at once am feeling self-conscious, I am doomed to failure. I’m doomed to failure because this self-consciousness is going to wreck my ability to be sincere or real. It’s going to get in the way of saying wonderful and sentimental things about the woman I love, about how fortunate I feel to be surrounded by my family and friends, how blessed we are despite the oppression, despite the people in power.

Plus it’s almost half-past six and I’m meeting Dana in a few minutes so I don’t have a lot of time to get this out. Great. Now I’m self-consious about time.

Wow. This is a really weird entry.

All right. I bring it to a close. And I remind everyone to be grateful. To pay attention. To work for change. And make the holiday amazing, be thankful for what you’ve got, and create a wonderful new year.