2011 is almost over? Wow. Where was I? Probably outside jogging, or inside blogging.

In preparation for this writing, I took a good, long look back at the year that was and honestly…I didn’t know what to make of it. Was 2011 a full fridge, or an unflushed toilet? Enough pleasant and unpleasant happenings occurred to sway the pendulum either way. I honestly couldn’t decide.  If one were to take a more morbid approach to judgment, 2011 would rate as a good year for me simply because no one I loved died in its’ timeframe, breaking a three-year streak of loss.  But I won’t use that approach.

So, how do you rate such a year?
You don’t. You put all the bad stuff aside, get over the disappointments and unmet goals—nobody wants to read about that anyway—and just focus on all the great parts. Kind of like a salad. Once you pick all that disgusting lettuce and tomato out of it, it’s actually not bad at all.

Sure, I didn’t get to do any real travelling in 2011, but I did “discover” San Francisco, a city in my own backyard long relegated to enemy status. It turns out that parts of it aren’t so bad at all once you get a little familiar with the pace. Last December you couldn’t have paid me to go there for anything unrelated to the Giants/49ers. This December I began planning a future day trip there.

Sure, I didn’t get to finally meet my long-distance pal Tammy in person, and that sucked. But I did meet and re-meet other cool folks, such as Kim, Ash and Joanna, whom I now consider friends. And I reunited with my 5th grade teacher after 20 years, as well as many ex-classmates unseen since high school. It was kind of surprising they wanted me there. I tormented more than one of them back in the day. But I’m not here to talk about the past.

Sure, I didn’t get to spend a whole lot of time with my dawg Chicken as in years past. But as of three weeks ago he’s back in the Bay Area, and my other bestie Alex and I re-ignited our friendship after seven years or dormancy. I learned a valuable lesson in 2011—bros before hos always. Even if the bro is a sis.

Sure, my shoulder remained so jacked up that I couldn’t throw or swing a bat properly by summer’s end, forcing me to renege on a promise to Ryan to anchor his softball team’s lineup. But thanks to my notable weight loss, I was able to play basketball and run at levels unseen since 2003. Try to outrun me now, Emma! (inside joke to a pal)

Sure, the Giants uniform numbers failed yet again to bring me Lotto success, but at least I finally landed my dream job after years of trying and lying. And I got to even work for a buddy as a paid flag-football statistician for a while—another dream job. Even if it meant getting water bottles flung at me and having large sweaty man-beasts falling on my already-troubled legs.

Sure, they cancelled the best soap ever, One Life to Live. No more Viki and Clint and Todd and Blair and Jess and Tess. But at least now I have an extra hour a day to devote to my amazing daughter Josie, who warms the hearts and charms the pants off everyone she meets, and who finds a new way to make Daddy smile every day. They say you don’t know what you got until it’s gone. Well, you also don’t know what you’re missing until it comes. Daddy loves you, monster. 

Showing I am not entirely wrapped up in myself, shout-outs are in order for the following friends: Mits, who found a pretty decent fella in Andy this year; to Miriam and the Zinman, who moved in together this past August; to Chicken and Emiko, who did the same earlier this month, to Rob, who is expecting a youth with his beloved Desiree; to Aldo, who recently became a daddy to baby Angelica, to Juan and Monica, proud parents of Soleil since June, to Arnell and Racquel, who welcomed Abby’s little brother Alex; to Nate and Hellen, who added a new Pezzotti in the form of baby Donovan, and lastly to Sac, who gave birth to Kaleem just last week. Way to go!

Merry Everyone.
And Happy Circumstances.
Your Boy,
Skillzilla