I know that old Catholic tone

Only making roughly six entries in one calendar year is a pretty poor showing, even by my standards, but in my defense, I spent much of it:

1. Depressed (work)

2. Angry (also because of work)

3. Sleepy (only sometimes because of work)

4. Distracted (sports and/or family)

Anyway! I did do a lot of stuff this year. I kept notes on it, but trying to make it readable and funny to anyone other than myself always seems like more effort than it’s worth, especially since it seems everyone has fucked off from livejournal. I have roughly twentyish entries that someday may make it on to the internet, ranging from subjects like How Dumb Is Ryan Lochte (very dumb), to book reviews (I read a lot of nonfiction this year, oddly) to hockey (HOW BOUT THAT OVECHKIN RENAISSANCE), to recipes (I also made a lot of moonshine and pies this year, not always together), to the internet people I met in person this year (hi horizon_greene and aphelion_orion!) to the weirdness of the bathroom habits of an office with only one tiny restroom and eleven women (sheer madness.)

Oh yeah. I keep forgetting to mention—because I keep forgetting I have it—but I do have a tumblr. (Give me a sec while I look it up to remember what I called it. I suck.)

…Ah! Thornescratch. My tumblr is thornescratch. Because I like keeping things simple.

Now, I really haven't gotten the hang of tumblr yet, because I am a slow, slow writer and I like writing long-ass posts and I like replying to comments, and none of these preferences seems to work well with tumblr. I'm not very good with the whole instant reblogging and liking and coming up with humorous tags and such. But if you want to follow me, odds are good I'll end up following you back because I have no idea what else to do with the damn thing, and I keep blindly smashing buttons in an effort to find out.

The point is, I am updating because I am going to be in Rome for the next week and a bit, stalking the pope and doing my level best not to murder my relatives. (I am going to Rome because my cousin is finally getting ordained, and I at some point think I promised to go if he did. I don't remember making this promise, and I am not sure I'll be able to control myself from standing up mid-ceremony like the slighted ex in a romantic comedy at the big wedding vows scene, and shouting, "DUDE, PLEASE DON'T JOIN THE LEGIONARIES OF CHRIST, THERE'S STILL TIME TO JOIN A LESS BATSHIT ORDER LIKE THE JESUITS OR SOMETHING!"

I probably won't, but you never know. Anyway, I'm pretty sure I will need to be drunk and/or doped up on some heavy grade of black market tranquilizers to survive being in this much proximity to this subsection of my family, but I plan to see it as a challenge. Oh God, we're supposed to go to Mass every day. I CAN'T DO THAT. I AM ACTUALLY INCAPABLE OF PAYING THAT MUCH ATTENTION. THE POPE IS GOING TO KNOW. I AM GOING TO BE IN AN AUDIENCE WITH THE POPE AND THINKING OF AWFUL, AWFUL THINGS BECAUSE THAT'S JUST WHO I AM, AND THE POPE IS SOMEHOW GOING TO KNOW.)

I mention all this because I thought you would like to know if someone ends up in the news for tackling the pope, it is probably me and I might need bail. Except I like this pope, so it is less likely I would tackle him and more likely I would giggle girlishly and swoon. And then the pope would revive me and offer me some maté to drink. Because that's one of my top ten fantasies.

Oh, and Louise got sent to the hospital in a helicopter, which I believe completes a line on her bingo square of health issues. More on that later.