last week, i received an invitation in the mail. to the ten-year reunion for my graduating class from university college london. a whole decade since i left with a degree and an overwhelming sense of now-what?.
obligatory severely condensed wrap-up: a second bachelor degree, a masters degree, almost four certificates. london, khartoum, denver, pittsburgh, vancouver, regina, moose jaw, calgary, edmonton, ottawa, montreal, east lansing, winnipeg, boulder, toronto, havana, geneva. from science to journalism to environmental communications with a sprinkling of project management, graphic design, social work, and urban planning. published in anthologies, magazines, websites, and self-published a chapbook. art shows, under- and over- ground. found and lost friends (RIP). found and lost cars (scrap heap). found and lost cats. found and lost love (no regrets, carpe diem, right meems?). grew up. befriended my slow cooker, snowboarded, learned spanish, bought a bass. titled “writer”, “poet”, “journalist”, “promoter”, “consultant”, “teacher”, “tanti”, “multidisciplinary artist”, “maneater” (hall and oates, holla!)… self-indulgence bores me, i’m done.
i’m a lot happier today than i have been for the past ten years. i love my home. i’m surrounded by good people. music keeps me going. i’ve not befriended my depression, but at least i’m trying to find ways to carry a lamp with me into the darkness.
and i figured out that i’m part-shark. if i don’t move i’m dead in the water.