I am a bad blogger. Having spent the last few days cruising around to other people's sites (and refusing to contribute to the one I titularly advise), I now realize that the sine qua non of the blog is the year-end wrap-up.
And I'm not doing it.
2004 was a pretty mixed year for me personally. Good things did happen: I had a child, made some friends, started this blog. But lots of shitty stuff happened, too: I spent the summer on bed rest, became theatrically, remarkably unproductive, didn't get to go to the Bloomsday 100 celebration in Dublin. I taught twelve sections of various things, most of them badly.
And then there was November, which still makes me cringe in horror at the absolute idiocy of my countrymen, whose ignorance and fear that someone, somewhere might be having nonprocreational sex apparently trumped their desire to live safely and leave their children a decent world. Unless, of course, the election was stolen technologically, which makes me cringe in a different way, like a little kid hiding under the bed from an abusive sibling whose power cannot be restrained. When do Mom and Dad get home?
Not wanting to dwell on this too much, long story short, no wrap-up.