No sooner had Neil and I walked into the bar last night than Ritchie, a fixture of the place, bought everyone in the place a shot. There were probably twenty of us. He lined them up on the bar and made sure everyone had one, then made a short speech about how every year has its highs and lows, and we're all in a period of transition, and all we can really do is hope that the next year will be better than the last. When we all hoisted our glasses I swear there was a split second when I almost burst into tears. Several people said "amen," including me. It was one of those moments that reminds me why I love Grinnell.

I'm not going to pretend this was a great year. In fact it was, on the whole, a pretty shitty year, and I'm thrilled to see it go. But its overwhelming shittiness means that the good moments stand out even more vividly in retrospect. I can only imagine how many blogs will be doing these year-end lists, and how many will be quoting Death Cab tomorrow. But several of my friends have made such a list, and it's made me realize that there is probably some value to such an exercise. I want to end the year on a positive note, since I do have a great deal to be positive about right now. I have a friend who came up with one memory of 2003 for every year she's been alive. Let's see if I can do 27, more or less in order.

1. Alto Heceta's farewell show. Very emotional, also very cathartic and joyful. Occurred almost synchronously with the announcement of the Dismemberment Plan's breakup, but I'm trying to be positive here. Goddamn it.

2. Going to the West Coast and taking in the scenery of Northern California. Standing on several different beaches between San Francisco and Eugene and watching spring arrive. Seeing Neil and Selena. Returning to Iowa only to have it snow in April.

3. A pretty good year for concerts, beginning with Low in in February and ending with Low in December, and in between: R�yksopp, the Sea & Cake (twice), Rainer Maria (twice), Mates of State, Notwist, Yo La Tengo, Absinthe Blind, and a whole lotta Burn Disco Burn.

4. My month of sobriety in June, during which my physical health improved dramatically, my social life got quieter, and I did a lot of reading.

5. Working at the day care in West Branch and (probably for the first time) learning to love kids ages 5-10, especially Leah, Willie, Naomi, Jacob, and Becca. Sitting outside in the summer sun and watching them play, meditating on their simple but profound enjoyment of life. Setting up my drums and watching fifteen kids take turns bashing away and trying to spot the promising percussive talents among them. The tranquil drive to and from work listening to Grandaddy.

6. My cousin's wedding in Portland, which marked my first visit to Portland and the first time I'd really met my dad's brother.

7. Re-reading Infinite Jest. Sorry, folks. Also You Shall Know Our Velocity, The Safety Of Objects, Jenny & The Jaws Of Life, Barrel Fever, The Master & Margarita, Hey Nostradamus!, Important Things That Don't Matter, Everything Is Illuminated, Dry, The Fermata, Cad, Drinking: A Love Story, and Running With Scissors. Somehow, I never found the time for Harry Potter.

8. Saying goodbye to two very shitty jobs.

9. Watching my brother graduate from college.

10. Countless hours at the Deadwood getting drunk with Ransom, watching the Simpsons, and dominating the mafia booth or the couches with Jill, Leah, Leisel, Susie, Dino, Jaime, Chris, Nick, Zeb, Ransom, Pat, and many others.

11. On a related note, my birthday, which rocked, and proved once again that I have the coolest friends in the world. I may have lost a shirt in the process and puked on someone's carpet, but we all agreed it was for the better.

12. Covering the Blue Album, twice.

13. The bar crawl.

14. Sitting on the girls' front porch ("Portugal") in the spring and summer, rocking back and forth on the rickety porch swing, the place redolent with beer, bug spray, and citronella, listening to the Basement Jaxx and Pete Yorn and Jeff Buckley and Daft Punk and the Bunnymen and many others blasting out of the window, knowing it would all end when they moved out, and therefore cramming every possible moment onto that porch.

15. Living with Ransom for about three weeks in August in a tiny, poorly-ventilated apartment and giving myself over completely to drinking lots of beer every night out on the roof, surreptitiously drinking rum and Cokes on the ped mall in broad daylight, watching Law & Order marathons, and getting up hungover every morning at seven to go work with children.

16. Moving back to Grinnell briefly at the end of the summer. It certainly had its pitfalls, but it was something I had to do. I mean, I literally had to do it; I was broke.

17. Visiting Leah in Buffalo Center. Or as I like to call it, Baltimore Center. Cute little place you have there, Leah. Now move the fuck to Chicago like you keep threatening.

18. A weekend in Chicago involving lots of Pabst and a little bit of kickball.

19. Going on tour. There's not really anything I can say about this that I haven't already said elsewhere on this blog, so I point to those entries as testimony. If you've never gone on tour, I highly recommend it. Even if your band ends up in the hole financially and you sleep on thirty different floors and get lost in upstate New York and have to drive up and down the New Jersey turnpike six times and deal with some really obstinate club owners and spend far too much time in Columbus and the van starts to smell like dirty socks and stale crackers and you sleep in the van more than once including one time outside a frat house where a band is covering Good Charlotte and you end up driving straight through the night from Raleigh to Iowa City, I still recommend it. Twice. Perhaps the best part of all: visiting lots of old friends in lots of different places, as well as several relatives, all of whom I'd probably go much longer without seeing otherwise. The other great part of the tour: watching autumn turn to winter in sixteen different states.

20. Lots and lots of disc golf. Friendship!

21. Playing a show in Chicago, a stone's throw from Wrigleyville, the night that the Cubs lost it all. I'm not really sure what's good about this, but I have fond memories of the night all the same, probably because I was blasted.

22. Many hours spent in my brother's apartment downtown, watching Mr Show and drinking cheap beer, both before and after our visits to the Pub, where I'd watch him get suspicious glances, probably due to that damn orange vest.

23. Several raucous parties at the Slum, including the Fourth of July, where foolish college boys set off fireworks in the front yard and the police showed up to give us a warning for playing Madonna too loud.

24. Learning and playing many new drinking games, including the ever-popular "50/50" and the dubiously popular "Zoom Schwartz Profigliano Beiderman".

25. Moving to Chicago. It was a long time coming, and I am glad to be there, even if I don't have a job yet. I will get one, I will reconnect with my friends there, I will make the city mine. Right?

26. I am a cynical, sarcastic, often mean-spirited person, but if there's any item here I want to couch in utter, unblemished sincerity, it's this one: Rediscovering the value of friendship in times of trouble.

27. Ending the year by meeting Someone New.

Goodbye, 2003. Good fucking riddance.

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