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in 4-5 years, the bruins will win the cup. I guarantee it. If the b’s don’t have a cup-winning team in 2012, I will find each and every one of you and personally accept my deserved deriding.

for real dudes. for real.

I was officially offered the job tonight for the magazine position. It’s really quite exciting and even a bit scary. When you want something so much and you actually get it, it feels strange, like maybe it’s all a big practical joke. And I’m a bit nervous, as I’m venturing way way out of my comfort zone, the one I’ve been in for quite some time. I’ve got wobbly legs.

It feels good though. Even the scariness. I am looking forward to learning the magazine business and making a career for myself, finally, in a place I’ve always wanted to be. Magazines seem so silly and pointless in the grand scheme of things, but who cares. I love them and they make me happy and now I work at one. I’m freaking-a awesome.

I’ll let you know when my first issue hits the newsstands.

I had a 2nd interview this week for the magazine position. It went well, I met with several people, including the publisher. Two and a half hours. Then I spoke on the phone with the HR guy in New York, and that went well. So now it’s a waiting game. I feel pretty good about it all, which is maybe a bad thing, because if I don’t get the job I’m going to be hugely disappointed.

I could have my name on the masthead of a real, live, published magazine! My name, in shining, shimmering glory. I always read the mastheads of magazines, because I’m a mag dork. And were I to get that job, any other mag dork that reads mastheads like me will see MY NAME. Well, mag dorks that are reading a sailing magazine. Probably not too many of those. Still, it’s very exciting.

I told Gordon if I didn’t get this job, I was moving back to Tucson. I wasn’t really serious about that–it would feel like a dog running home with his tail between his legs. There’s no honor or dignity in that. I guess I’ll just keep looking. Eventually I’m going to con my way into a job.

It’s snowing like crazy today. Lame.

My outlook on life has been so backward lately. I feel the weight of the universe pushing me down. But why? Why does it need to be like that?

Because it’s all about how you balance on this spinning rock.

The accident happened, and I looked at it as darkness finally creeping into my bone.

Only, instead of viewing the accident so harshly, I can see it for what it is, just another instant in all the instances, always happening, none more special than any other. So it’s okay, really, it’s okay, christa, to use whatever tools you have at your disposal, do what you need to save yourself.

I am older now, older and wiser, truly. I feel it for the first time. Getting older is a rapturous experience. I don’t lie down anymore. Oh boy, no way. Now I get ready to dance. Because I’ve learned an uphill battle is the only one worth fighting.

My age lets me open myself to that which brings me up, whatever I need, no guilt, no worries. Because now I see the pattern. And the good thing about recognizing a pattern is having the strength and understanding to not fight it, but live with it.

So, it starts here, and eventually I’m going to reach the crest. Then, in 10, 12 years, I’ll need another wake-up call. We’ll look up, sigh, dust ourselves off, and head to the next crest. On it goes. Because this is what I do, it’s who I am, it’s my pattern. And really, we’re nothing but patterns anyway.

To sum up: my outlook needs to be celebrating the “madness that made me this way.” The awesome thing here is that a younger, weaker christa saw that, too, and fixed herself. Naturally, I can, too.

Damn, it’s so much easier now, so much fucking easier. Don’t you think? Seriously, thank the makers of time. It makes me practically weep here, in ridiculous freaking joy, that I’m not young anymore. It’s going to be hard, but not difficult, not impossible, not hopeless.

Now to cap off this evening of great revelations, I’ll leave you with this: you can’t change. You can only get through. That’s it. That’s what you can do. Anything else and you’re dead, in one way or another.

I should have titled this damn post bittersweet symphony. how sad for me.