So it's new years eve--somehow I forgot about that yesterday. It's blustery as all get out here in west chester (I want to walk to my local coffee shop but the wind has thoroughly scared me). So I climb back into bed (no great chore) and look up the mountain goats--this band that my wonderful boyfriend has introduced me to this past year. There's this song that I keep listening to. Oddly enough it's titled this year. And I've been singing it all year--it's been a rough year. I vividly remember this year at the mountain goats concert at the TLA. Imagine a dark concrete theatre filled with youth, young adults and adults--imagine fists pumping, heads swinging and feet stomping-- all screaming at the tops of their lungs "I am going to make it through this year if it kills me!" It was amazing and desperate. Pretty neat.

My year has been rough. It started last year with some babysitting. Middled with some rough times with parents, school and ending at relationship. And ended with un certainty (concerning school). I'm still waiting to hear back about school.

OH! so I was vacuuming last night and the bissel vacuum I have--piece of shit. I have all these pine needles all over my floor--all the vacuum cleaner did was move them into little piles. :(

I broke free on a saturday morning.
I put the pedal to the floor.
headed north on mills avenue,
and listened to the engine roar.

my broken house behind me and good things ahead,
a girl named cathy wants a little of my time.
six cylinders underneath the hood crashing and kicking,
ahhh listen to the engine whine.

I am going to make it through this year if it kills me.
I am going to make it through this year if it kills me.

I played video games in a drunken haze
I was seventeen years young.
hurt my knuckles punching the machines
the taste of scotch rich on my tongue.

and then cathy showed up and we hung out.
trading swigs from the bottle all bitter and clean
locking eyes, holding hands,
twin high maintenance machines.

I am going to make it through this year if it kills me.
I am going to make it through this year if it kills me.

I drove home in the california dusk.
I could feel the alcohol inside of me.
home.
picture the look on my stepfather's face,
ready for the bad things to come.

I downshifted as I pulled into the driveway.
the motor screaming out stuck in second gear.
the scene ends badly as you might imagine,
in a cavalcade of anger and fear.

there will be feasting and dancing in jerusalem next year.

I am going to make it through this year if it kills me.
I am going to make it through this year if it kills me