Oh hell, January, where have you gone? You are utterly one of my least favorite months, but you're a slippery little bugger this year. Warm, and then super freezing--bizarre days in which I saw lightning strike the spike of the Empire State Building, and got trapped in Hoboken because of frozen trains, respectively--busy, and then completely, deliciously lackadaisical. If you weren't a capricorn, January, I'd swear you were a gemini comme moi.

My resolution(s) is a gradual builder, I've decided. A crescendo, if you will. The opposite of a peter-out. 2008's been good so far, actually. Got my first book to edit (practice edit, mind you--my editor boss has the final say-so), have a non-date on Saturday with my semi-friend/old editor whom I haven't seen since freshman year of college (I honestly have no idea what's going on), AND I am officially a writer.

No, I wasn't published (don't be fooled), I was rejected! By MCSWEENEYS!!! It was thrilling, in a way.

And I can't not mention it: Heath Ledger! Utterly shocking. Totally thought it was a bad rumor. Refused to believe it until it was confirmed in some furious texting betwixt myself and mini-sister. But what's with the implication of Mary-Kate? Odd.

And the death of another man who has nothing to do with HL other than my distant, slightly disturbing crushes on them both: Bobby Fischer. I instantly went out and rented 'Searching for Bobby Fischer.' Always wanted to play chess in Washington Sq. Park.

It's been quite a month.