2019 Year in Review: Look at All of My Achievements and Feel Some Type of Way About It

The stink of 2020 has settled upon us.  We are firmly in its grip, as the new year has metaphorically perp walked us through January, guilty and exposed.  Even so, there's no reason we can't continue navel gazing on the year 2019, a year we've mostly all felt relieved to watch as it shrinks to a pinprick in the rearview mirror of time.  Every year since 2016 has felt like a bigger trash fire than the next, but in 2019 I managed to turn my back to the flames for a few minutes and do some things I'm actually proud of. 

Let's recap.

The accomplishment that brought me the most personal satisfaction is probably the one that that sounds the least impressive and least worthy of mention, unless you know me in real life.  I hereby declare that my liver and I survived the entirety of the year of our lord two thousand and nineteen with nary a single hangover.  I credit a Dry January that extended until the end of May, coupled with a Sober October.  Aside from the obvious fact of having fewer opportunities for hangovers, it really helped me appreciate how fantastic it feels to go to bed early on a weekend and wake up refreshed on a Saturday or Sunday.  It also gave me the recalibrated perspective to recognize when I'm approaching the tipping point of losing good judgment and over-indulging. 

I know I sound like a USDA Prime Cut Asshole to pat myself on the back for mastering the art of drinking in moderation, but it only took me 16 years to figure it out so I'm going to give myself some credit where it's due.  See the thing is, as I've discussed here before, my alcohol tolerance is so low that my "drinking in careful moderation and only ever on Friday or Saturday" is most people's Tuesday after work.  The slippery slope between the peak of "I'm having a good time and enjoying a nice drink" and the morning-after avalanche rubble of "My skull has been split in half by a mace and Linda Blair ain't got nothing on my projectile vomiting" lies approximately between drinks 2 and 3 on a given evening. 

Other accomplishments on the list show evidence of either daily dedication or obsessive behavior; interpret them how you wish.  I kept up a habit I started in 2018 to do some amount of yoga every single day.  Even just five minutes of mindful stretching counts.  It's about the attention to your body, and the smug feeling you get from using the word mindful.  I also ended the year on a 295 day Duolingo streak, which is now, in February, up in the 330s.  Can't stop, won't stop.  (No puedo parar, no voy a parar.)

Something I focused on throughout the year was taking risks.  Not physical ones, thank you.  I like all my body parts intact.  I like to be mindful about how I move through space.  No, I took emotional risks and exposed myself to criticism and rejection. 

On a whim, I submitted a couple one-liners to the Nashville Scene's You Are So Nashville If... contest.  I forgot about it entirely until an editor contacted me a month later to interview me about my winning joke.  It was a pyrrhic victory, since it seemed like 65% of the Nashville internet hated the joke and totally took it in a way I never intended, but it was kind of exhilarating to have my joke on the cover a magazine.  (The joke was just a dumb pun about the lack of public transit!  It wasn't about Cade Cothran and it wasn't meant to suggest everyone in Nashville does cocaine!  I've never even seen cocaine in real life, but I was at a party once where a guy got kicked out for being coked out and using the host's toothbrush!)

After winning the YASNI contest, I figured I would never win anything again, because I've pretty much never won anything else in my life.  That didn't stop me from entering a Hispanic Heritage Month photo contest at the language school where Andy and I take our Spanish classes.  I submitted a picture I took when we were in Ecuador last summer and...promptly forgot about the existence of the contest until two months later when our instructor congratulated me for winning.  This time nobody on the internet was angry and there was a prize - a free semester of Spanish class.

I spent a lot of time over the summer working on comedy material and going to open mics.  When I heard about the first annual Eastside Comedy Festival accepting submissions for performers, I jumped on it even though I had zero expectations of acceptance.  That seems to be a theme here.  Is it humility?  Low self esteem?  Defensive pessimism?  Or just being realistic? 

Whatever.  As you have already inferred, I was accepted.  I was stoked to get two 8-minute sets, and I was pleased with how they went.  Not even going to lie, the 2nd one was my personal best set ever, and I'm still angry with myself for forgetting to record it.  There was a last minute change in the line-up, and between that and just enjoying the other comics before me, I completely spaced on the recording.  Now it's nothing more than a fart in the wind (which is generally preferable to a fart in the couch fibers, at least if you've ever been scolded for farting on my grandmother's couch, but in this case, I'd rather have something permanent to show for my efforts).

Finally, the most objectively impressive thing I did, not just in 2019 but probably in all of my 34 years on this earth, was to get my writing published.  And before you ask, yes, I have heard of this profession called journalism, in which probably hundreds of thousands of adult humans regularly receive money in exchange for published writing.  But that's not my profession and no entity with an editorial process and a reputation for specific tastes had ever offered me money for something I wrote, much less expressed a willingness to publish it on their platform.  But then McSweeney's published my parody, The Very Thirsty Caterpillar, and now I am rich and famous author I still write stuff that is routinely rejected but I'll always have the memory of that one time my creative endeavors were warmly received.

Will 2020 be part of a continuing trend, or has luck run out?  Only time will tell.