Underneath my yellow skin

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Testing My Resolve

resolve not to make resolutions
Making a list and checking it twice.

New Year’s Day came and went without any attention from me, which is not that unusual for me. Longtime readers know by now that I’m not very fond of holidays in general. I can understand the symbolism of ushering in a new year, but I can’t get too hyped about it myself. Sometimes, I would make resolutions, and sometimes, I wouldn’t, but the one thing I would always do is ruminate on my life and what a waste it’s been so far. It’s gotten better in the last few years, but it’s still something that dominates my mind on New Year’s Eve. This year, I was too busy grieving to even give it a passing thought. I will say, however, that 2016 was not a great year for me, and I’m more than happy to see the back end of it. At least, I would be if it weren’t for the fact that we’re going to have President Trump in two and a half days. This post is not about that, however, so just note my displeasure and move on. There were three things in 2016 that sucked balls, and I’m listing them in chronological order.

Alan Rickman died in February, which some of you might think, “What’s the big deal? He’s just an actor. It’s not as if you knew him or anything.” You’re right, and you’re wrong. I’m not someone who usually goes gaga over celebrities, but Alan Rickman was different. He first came to my attention when I was watching one of the Harry Potter movies. Something about his velvety voice and precise distinction plus his piercing stare thrilled me. It was the second movie, I believe, and when he was spelling Kenneth Brannagh, I nearly creamed my nonexistent panties. Once I noticed how hot he was, I started watching every movie I could get my hands on. This was before streaming was a thing, so I had to order the DVDs myself or buy them off eBay. The more I watched his movies and read about him, the more I was enamored with him. Not only was he a great actor, he was a terrific person who was a generous and supportive friend, and he was firm believer in class equality (as well as feminism and equality for ¬†other minorities). The day he died, I woke up to hundreds of messages on my social media offering their condolences. I joked through my tears that it was my dream to have people associate me with Alan Rickman, and it looked like I had accomplished that goal. He had had cancer, but didn’t tell anyone, so it came as a shock to the world at large.

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