The Year of

Back when I was awesome, I used to look back on the past year in all its glory and suck, and give it an overall name to encompass the general theme.

2009 was the Year of the Funky Wow (my name for God, along with Funkalicious Jiggy Snake, and a hundred others)
2008 was the Year of the Delena
2007 was the Year of Secrets, with its Season of Temporary Insanity, Invasion of the unFunk, the writing of the Funky Love Letter of Closure, the Inner Demon Tea Party and Imminent Fatal Gorge-Fest, the Multiversal Jiggy Snake and Funktastic Yayness, Delena of the Funkywild, and my return to How It Used To Be.

Getting seriously ill while carrying Lina pretty much lopped off my life at the knees, and I have yet to return to my inner me.

I think it's well past time, don't you?

And so I return to my great tradition of naming my years in their closing, and focusing on my desired theme and goals for the new year. This has nothing to do with resolutions. This is bigger than resolutions.

This is a r[E]volution.

At first, I admit I was tempted to name 2013 the Fucktastic Year of the Fucking Fuckall, but I realized that isn't it at all. And I refuse to name a year with anything less than total honesty. And if I am completely honest with myself, this was the Year of the Great Revelation.

I have walked through fire and learned so goddamn much that it isn't even fucking funny. I graduated from that thrice-cursed school and can now officially say I KNOW ALL THE PSYCHOLOGY! ('Kay, not really all of it, but dude.) And I came face to face with something I had never seen before. The darkest the human psyche has to offer. I may have blinked, and I might even have flinched.

But I fucking stood my ground, dammit.

And fuck if I didn't learn that I have a lot of self respect, goddammit, and I truly am one badass motherfucker.

And so thank you, 2013. You sucked fucking sweaty gorilla balls, but thank you for everything you taught me with all the mercy and gentle forgiveness of a wasabi and habanero enema. Fuck you, my friend. Fuck you.

And thank you.

But no, seriously, fuck you.

And now I usher in 2014, which I declare will be the year of no compromises, of kicking ass and taking names, of becoming the woman I have always wanted to be and never believed I could, of finally exercising my right to say no --and yes-- however I want, and turning on its collective fucking ear the conventional and toxic ways I used to define myself according to society's values...because Delena of the Motherfucking Funkywild is back, and she's breathing some serious fucking fire.

Namaste, motherfucker.