Here's the skinny, Mac.

Retroactive happy holidays, y'all. (And by y'all I mean Ben, my dad, and the three or four random people who stumble upon this blog by accident. Welcome! I'm not always this annoying, I promise...

Just kidding! I'm always exactly this annoying!) I didn't bother to write about Christmas/New Year's or anything else for the last few months because I didn't feel like it, deal with it, and also: moving on. So I know that on the sidebar I've explained that this blog is devoted mostly to my cockamamie opinions on movies, books, and television, but necessity is driving me to change things up a bit. I may still write about movies from time to time (God knows I've stored enough of them away on my external harddrive, like an industrious squirrel bracing itself for a Torrent-less winter...), but for the most part, this blog is going to be devoted for at least the next six months to my time in Sakartvelo, home of the Georgians. I'll doubt I'll ever be adept enough in kartuli ena, the Georgian tongue, to truly speak the language, but don't be surprised if the next six months is as much about me attempting to master Mkhedruli (the alphabet) and Kartuli (the language) as it is about my adventures teaching English.

So, yes. That's happening.

As for 2011? I could take it or leave it. It was a strange year, and in some ways has felt mostly like a post script for 2010. In 2010 I graduated from Rutgers, finished my internship, packed up my life, and drove southeast from New Brunswick as fast as my car could take me. I landed in Austin, fretted about a living situation, found a living situation, fretted about a job, found a job, and then found myself with nothing tangible left to fret about and still no closer to finding the answers I needed. It turns out that no matter how far you go from the last place you've been, you never outrun yourself. So here's a new theory: real change comes from self-acceptance. You can't decide who you're going to be and what you're going to do until you understand who it is you are and what it is you're doing, right now. In this moment. So if 2010 felt like a whirlwind (it wasn't really, but at the time it felt like it) then 2011 felt like the cottony silence that pours in from all directions once the storm has passed. In 2011 I returned home from Amanda's wedding to my job only to be laid off, wandered around senselessly like a wounded pack animal for a few months, volunteered for South by Southwest, took a road trip with Joanna up through the Ozarks to my parents' place in Canada, worked at a cafe in Long Island City for a few months, and then spent returned to Canada for the holidays. Now I'm kicking around, saying my goodbyes, waiting for the 13th when I fly east to my new home, for the next six months, somewhere in Sakartvelo.

When I write it out like that, it almost sounds like a lot happened. It's not true, though. Not that much happened. Maybe it's not that nothing happened, so much as nothing that inspired or changed or moved me happened. I was not moved this year, in fact, for most of it I felt like a calcified imposter left behind by my real self. I couldn't think fast enough, couldn't move decisively enough, could never seem to get enough air when I breathed. Does anyone else have entire years like this? Maybe, probably. Like I said, 2011: the year I could take or leave.

As for 2012, as long as we aren't all obliterated by the looming Mayan apocalypse, I expect good things.

Autumn in Austin

The first time it rained in what felt like a month, back in early October. I was strangely thrilled by it and took a picture on my way into work.

This is the lizard who lives in my room. I call him Alfred the Gecko. He's a classy fellow, keeps to himself, very respectful. Sometimes I catch him napping on the floorboard or on my umbrella, but mostly he hides himself away.

I must have made a big enough deal out of missing New Jersey/North Eastern Autumn because in rapid succession my mom sent me a beautiful stained glass leaf and Joanna sent me an amazing collection of pressed leaves, nestled in the pages of the book American Heritage: Men of Charlie Russell's World. It was quite the page turner.

Also, yes: I have an Avatar poster. It was a present from Kathleen, and even if it weren't, I would still not apologize for it. I don't care how dumb you thought that movie was, it was still fucking awesome.

This didn't have any serious bearing upon my Autumn, except for immediately making me want to cry then vomit.

Parade on Halloween for los muertos.

Local bar, the depot, which actually is part train. It's nifty.

We had a pumkin carving contest at work. My group did the guillotine in the last picture. The black pumpkin was probably my favorite though, it was the Pumpkin Ba-Bomb. The box is hiding the bottle of Jaeger, and yes, people did start doing Jaeger Ba-bombs at the first office party I ever attended. It's an interesting workplace.

Window display during October at the El Interior, a store across the street from my house.

Dear Netflix: Really? Are you sure that's how you want to categorize that?

Some new posters! Also, beer.

Canoeing with Kathleen on Lake Austin. It was gorgeous.

Austin Botanical/Dinosaur Garden.

My new headphones! With houndstooth. I plan to ONLY wear them while drinking tea, listening to Beethoven, and wearing my monocle, of course.

Thanksgiving feast. Since Kathleen is a vegetarian I made myself an adorable Cornish Game Hen, and we had a veggie casserole, brussel sprouts, mashed potatoes, cheese and bread, carrots, pistachios, salty roasted red peppers, and hummus. We got cappuccino goat milk and Ben Jerry's PB Cup ice cream for desert. It was the best Thanksgiving meal I've ever prepared, partly because it is the only Thanksgiving meal I've ever prepared and partly because as you can see from my blurry, shitty phone photography, it was quite the spread.

That's it for now.

'Murika

Mini-road trip photo dump! Also, NATURE.

The best part about stupid Albuquerque.

This is the story of my time at Abilene State Park.

My yurt.

Yeah, there was no bed. So I slept on the picnic table. It sucked just about as much as you might expect.

Yurt City, USA.