1:45 a.m.
Sometimes I have insomnia.

New Years' Eve was one of the best in recent memories for me. Other years have been ugly (and I do mean UGLY) enough to where I now avoid going out.

So, D and I went with his friend C to see "Cold Mountain" and then on to B's house for midnight desert and to watch the crystal ball drop. We joked about witnessing a terrorist outbreak to pep things up a bit after all the drama over Code Orange and the publicity of 1000s of cops crawling about Times Square. But no, we were all laughing at something just as the ball began its descent and missed seeing it altogether.

We toasted for a better 2004. As we were clinking I thought: 2003 wasn't that bad, after all.

Living in Cincinnati for the year, I got to know it. I made new friends and strengthened old ones -- there were a lot of laughs. Grace and I loved my neighborhood and its panorama of downtown; its quirkiness between the very poor and wealthy, and the religious community next to the television station on the street above me.

Whining on this Blog notwithstanding, I dated. For the first time in years. Two guys. For several months each!

I answered Plant Material's Ad about a year ago; I picked up Costume Designer in a bar. They both dumped me. But on recap, I had a genuinely good time with both of them while it lasted. I think I learned (or was reminded of) a few things.

Plant Material had a lot of friends, who were extremely important to him. At social functions, I think he expected me to be more dependent (because he stayed by my side for those events where I knew everyone). Why didn't I? Beyond the fact that I would rather have my tongue yanked out of my head before hearing anyone describe me as "clingy", Plant Material himself placed a high premium (so he said) on someone who could fend for themselves. So I dove headfirst into every social situation. Demonstrating my independence in that way took effort. I made good impressions, but it was exhausting. I didn't need to try so hard in working the crowd.

I wrote about PM in one other entry -- I found him dry and wound a bit tight. I kinda kicked myself at the time for not breaking up with him first -- I wasn't in love with him -- and what is the line between working with something or moving on? But thinking back, would I do it differently? The qualities of being dry or being wound a bit tight are *not* necessarily deal-breakers for me. It's more important how you treat each other and communicate. And in Plant Material's case, he sent mixed messages.

Costume Designer was unequivocally a blast to be around. He is funny, smart, talented and cute. What surprised me with this relationship was not being jealous -- I knew he was a big slut. There was no pulse of brain loops constantly catching on Is he out having sex? With who? Where? If you're following this blog, it's not like I'm a little snowflake. (But jealousy is married to hypocrisy.) I let go and enjoyed myself. There were a lot of laughs, and I believe he had a good time with me. Maybe that's why I moved on easily. (Sadly, but easily.) Wishful thinking? Well, let me have it, then. He got me a spot performing in a crowd scene at the opera.

I volunteered as an extra (or Supernumerary for Those In The Know -- doesn't that mean "Extra Number" or something?) at the opera, then at the ballet. No Talent Necessary! It was definitely stimulating -- and FUN!

I can't review the year without also mentioning TrailerPark. I met TrailerPark in 2002 while on vacation in Colorado, and we got together again when I went out west in the spring. He lives in a trailer with his mom and his dog. He drank like a fish, had lost his license after 3 DUI's, and smoked cigarettes and pot non-stop.

These are not qualities Hugshyhermit ordinarily finds attractive in others. But none of this bothered me. In the spring, TrailerPark told me he had stopped drinking, and he was driving again. He was going to start school to be a Veterinarian's Assistant. It seemed like he was getting his life together.

TrailerPark, I realized, was painfully shy. "I prefer animals to people," he told me, and I believe him. He was soft-spoken in his manners. We would talk about the books he was reading -- and yeahs it was a lot of the same new-age drivel I like to read. The Way of the Peaceful Warrior, The Celestine Prophecy, etc etc bllch. (It's pathetic, I know.) Even though TrailerPark had been in the Navy, he lost his composure when the topic turned to George W. and our (then impending) invasion of Iraq.

The e-mail correspondence with TrailerPark has dropped off. He met a minister over the summer and is in Love, he tells me. I am happy for him, but at the same time.... feel... jealousy? (ha ha ha) No. I think it's more like envy. He deserves it.

Even though working at BIPC is not a treat, I had a good year there, too. I won an award (more laughs), I stepped up to the plate and volunteered for projects that paid off, and was rewarded with a great raise when most people in the company had paltry ones or none at all.

More so than in a long time, I feel that major changes are about to happen for me. I'd like to think these changes will be ones that are good.

So, Bloggies, I wonder whether Luscious Desert -- or at least this chapter -- is ready to close. I am no longer 40. Feeling trapped was a state of mind, and by taking actions such as finishing the duplex, and with a resume ready to go, I'm not sure I feel this way anymore.

More later...?