The last time I wrote an entry on my birthday, it took the form of a catalogue of everything fucked-up and horrible about the previous year. It was also a defiant announcement that I was not yet beaten; that I was starting over.
This past year has been immeasurably, inconceivably better. When I told myself last year that this was the start of something, that things were about to change, I had no idea how drastic and universally positive that change would be. I have a loving, supportive, crazy family and the best friends in the entire world. My roommates have improved my quality of life more that I could have imagined. I am happier than I could have imagined. The people in my life stun me every day with their generosity and loveliness.
Right now, I am in Los Angeles, where I have been teaching a workshop for the past two weeks. I have also been having one of the best times of my life. I got a sunburn in Santa Monica, went on every ride and saw every show at Universal Studios, and bungee-jumped off a 150-foot bridge in the middle of the Angeles National Forest. Next week I'll see Harry Potter on opening night at Grauman's Chinese Theatre, tour Beverley Hills, and then head off to San Francisco. Today, I wentto the Getty Centre and saw some of the most amazing illuminated manuscripts. Now I am sitting in my hotel with a glass of white wine and some leftover strawberry cake. It has been wonderful.
It has also made me fall even more deeply in love with my life at home. I can't wait to get back to Toronto and keep going. I can't wait to see my family and friends. I can't wait to hug my roommates and snorgle the animals. I can't wait to knock my twenty-sixth year right out of the park.