In With the New

I’m planning to publish this post tomorrow, January 1st, the first day of 2019.  I’ll be at Starbucks, leeching their wifi signal.  But right now, it’s the night before…the last hour of the year.  Let me set the scene for you. 

I’m in my van, predictably, parked in a lot near my day job at the hair salon.  It’s just past 11pm, and pouring rain.  I love vanlife rain…hitting the metal roof the way it does, it almost overpowers the moment, but manages to be soothing at the same time.  I’ve just made myself one of my favorite rainy-night things, an oversized cup of peppermint tea.  It’s about 45 degrees out I think, but I’m comfy enough sitting inside my mini-house in old torn-up jeans, hoodie, beanie, and bare feet.  Vanlife winter is easier for me than vanlife summer, so far at least.  I’ll update you after the first legit snowstorm.  With it being New Year’s Eve and all, I’m feeling a bit introspective.

2018 was an important year for me.  In some ways it was awesome, full of the light, bright feelings of freedom and possibility.  I bought my little Astro van in May, converted it in July, and started living in it full time that same month.  Ah, vanlife.  I started 2018 obsessing over it.  Should I, shouldn’t I, would it really work for me, what kind of van should I get, I could set up the interior like this or like this or like this.  Now that I’m living it, I don’t think about VANLIFE as much—it’s just my daily life now, and I’m used to it, no capital letters needed.

Another thing that 2018 brought was the completion of my tattooing apprenticeship.  That shit was challenging, and took me over two years to finish…and now I’m a professional tattooer.  One with very few clients still, but you know, I’ll get there (2019’s problem).  It feels scary, exciting, and kind of unreal to finally be making a little money with my drawings.  I expect big things from myself as a tattoo artist, and ’19 will be the year to start delivering on them.

2018 was also kind of lonely for me.  It feels pathetic to admit that, but it’s true.  I turned 34 this year, which obviously wasn’t a surprising turn of events, but still shocked me, you know? I guess on some level I thought that I’d be more of a “real” adult at this age.  A house, savings, career, handsome badass partner, many many dogs.  I don’t need any of those things really (especially don’t need the house, but I would like the savings account and the dogs) but I sometimes feel that something’s missing from my life.  Due to my transient habits and unsocial personality, I’ve never been in a romantic relationship that lasted longer than a three-day weekend.  I’d also like to have more friends, real ride-or-die friends that have a stake in my happiness, and would let me have a stake in theirs. I mean, it’s New Year’s Eve, and you know where I am…I just told you I’m urban stealth camping in a parking lot, alone.  At this exact moment next year, I’d like to be somewhere that has a fucking disco ball, surrounded by people I like/love, getting tipsy on mediocre champagne.  For real, that’s what I want.

Otherwise, this year was mostly just business as usual for me.  I’m grateful for the health and general wellbeing of my family.  I feel lucky to have the people that I do in my life, and I (almost) never take them for granted.  That’s something to carry over into the new year for sure.

Resolutions? Sure.  Get healthier.  That’s always near the top of the list, and I actually got started on it a little early this year, on Friday 12/28, how ‘bout that.  I don’t know if losing a shit-ton of weight would make a real difference in my personal happiness, but maybe it’s time to put the French fries down and find out.  I also want to get my finances in better shape. And be fucking awesome at tattooing.  And build a solid social media following, get involved in other creative projects (like designing t-shirts for an alternative clothing brand or something), make more friends and connections, maybe even have a relationship with someone irresistibly nerd-sexy, and definitely finish my fucking Master’s degree, just so it’s finally done.  I could go on—I’m an expert list-maker.  That’s enough for now though.  If I managed to check all those boxes, that would be impressive as fuck. 

I’m going to stop this entry here.  Someone outside in the distance just shouted Happy New Year!!!!!, so it must be midnight now.  Hello 2019, let’s make you fucking epic.

Happy New Year’s Day to anyone reading this today…I hope this next year of your life is everything you want and need it to be. Xoxo.

A here’s some fabulous glamour-shots of my tiny-home-on-wheels, just because.

Sandy Point, Portsmouth RI (December 2018)