I'm Baaaaack

Oh, my. I'm still writing /09 on everything I sign. (Because I'm always signing official documents and shit.) I find it takes about a month to get into the swing of writing the new year on stuff, don't you? And there isn't a natural progression from /09 to /10 as there would be, say, from /08 to /09. Oh, who cares. Do you care? Shut up, Kristin.

Hi, y'all!!! I'm back. New York was a whirlwind of ice, snow, my mom's red sauce, wine, manicotti, family, good friends, NYC pubs, too much cheesecake, and no alarm clocks (this is one of the wonderful things about staying with parents in another part of the country: they are so excited to have their grandchild waking up in the same house as them, they get up with her and go downstairs and have her full up with mini pancakes, Sponge Bob, and juice boxes galore before you've even cracked open one eye for the day. Praise yahweh, all is right with the world).

As nice as it was to be away, I was delighted to come back. Truth: As our plane descended over Lake Ponchartrain and came swooping down over the soft green ground of New Orleans, I smiled all big-like, totally involuntarily. I was home.

Though I've always loved the feeling of landing in Louisiana, mostly because I knew that always waiting at the gate for me would be my beloved, red-headed, dirty-Knicks-cap-wearin' Jeremy, and he'd fold me into his arms and not let go for the duration of our weekend rendezvous, this was the first time I was actually coming home here. And it felt...well, right. I don't know how else to describe it. I couldn't wait to get in my little car and zip home with the window down, passing saggy cypress trees whispering into the bayou. We lost count of the armadillos we passed, backs all glinty-silver in the sun, digging in the grass on the side of the road. When I was little, we used to look for dirt-colored bunnies hopping in the grass along the highway at sunset. My kid looks for nutria rats and armadillos. As Mr. Miyagi says, 'Different, but Same".

The pudgy little New York girl, hunting voraciously for brown bunnies from the back seat of her parents' Buick on the Long Island Expressway so many years ago never could have imagined a future life in South Louisiana. But hey, here I am.

And here we go...2010, bitches.

I didn't really make any resolutions, except to try and live in the present, have gratitude for the wonderful things in my life, and stop engaging in fucked-up retard dramatics from the past. I think if I can do this, then there's a good chance it'll be a fantastic year.

Also, I am gonna write a book.

What are your resolutions?