Happy Birthday to me. I am 35 today.

This last year has sucked. It started with the weirdest week of my life, where I saved a man's life at the Addison stop of the Blue Line, and then was fired a few days later. I've been fighting off the feelings that come along with being unemployed and looking for work, with the added bonus of getting practically no response from the nearly 300 jobs for which I've applied. I've been working odd jobs to keep some kind of income going. I've also been doing some work in rock and roll administration, which has been fun if low paying.

In addition to all of this turmoil, I have had several close relatives die in the last six months. I've been driving back and forth to New York every other month on average. I'll be headed back east on Monday morning for another trip, and hopefully this one will have a bit more joy to it than the last ones have. On the bright side, I've had the time and the support from friends here to be able to make these trips. Some in particular have driven me there, or given me their car, or shuffled my work around to make it happen.

In fact, that was one of the major highlights of this year. My support structure has grown in depth and width. I have a community here in Chicago that loves me very much, and I feel like I have integrated with this place in so many more ways. While I don't think it will feel like home the same way that New York does, it does feel like I am building my life here, and building a future here. My roots are spreading.

I am spending Saturday out on my deck with a bunch of people that I love, drinking really shitty wine and laughing and spending time together. I need that right now, and I am looking forward to soaking it up like a sponge, and feeling really really lucky. Despite everything that went down in the last year, I am happy and looking forward to the future. I know that I'm lucky to have that.

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