Optimism

At 24, I favored my shirts a size too small and finally felt like I owned an adequate number of jeans. The day I turned 24, I bought new cologne cause I wanted a luxury I could both enjoy and share. At 24, I was full of hope, convinced I was at a starting point; on the diving board about to dive into the endless pool of my possibility and potential. At 24, most of my friends, casual or close, were female. Celebrating the occasion, I found I'd somehow amassed a majority of Asians among those friends and nary a black one, a somewhat odd thing for a man with neither an Asian fetish, nor a shortage of melanin in skin. At 24, I cared about fashion and beauty, movies and music, people and reality, learning and teaching, and lots of other things beside. The day I turned 24, I was very fond of my family in it's entirety and particularity. For some reason, turning 24 seemed momentous, odd for such a ordinary number. Anyway numbers are meaningless and I'm happy and hopeful. I'm learning things and trying things and hope to get over my flaws or get on despite them. It feels like the year to move from being a dreamer to being a doer, so little projects or big projects, bring them all. Ooh, for my birthday, I got a DVD I really love, the Mark Romanek director's reel. The best friend is great at being the person with the coolest (and sometimes only) gift each year. I can now watch Johnny Cash's Hurt video all day and all night, and have great background visuals for my next gathering. At 24, I'm loving and learning to entertain. And, of course, there is love, or the perpetual search for it. Well, the year started with poor judgement on my part, but even in this, I'm hopeful. Fingers crossed, shoes shined and Nina on the stereo. It's gonna be a good year.