So long 2013, welcome 2014

I've been fighting with myself all day about this post. Do I do the selfish thing, tell the world to fuck the fuck off, and go hide in the closet with a bottle of rum and my sagging spirits, and whimper in the New Year? Or do I pull up my Big Girl Panties, you know the black ones with the straps across the ass and the big red bow, put the patented WiserAngel grin on my face, stuff the pain and hurt and disappointments in a wee little box, and party like an Angel should? What would Jesus want me to do? What's the polar opposite of that?

So what does an Angel do who's lost good friends, found good friends, is currently mourning the most recent loss and not really sure how to let go? Bear in mind the meds I'm currently taking severely restrict alcohol consumption. I've wrestled my demons for two days; we're all exhausted and it's starting to look more like snuggling. I'm beginning to believe my most stable relationships are with my demons; they've never threatened to leave me, never turned their backs on me, and always seem to be there when I'm at my lowest.

So, with the advice of said demons tickling my brain, I offer this:

May we take every pain and disappointment 

and use them as armor instead of anchors. 

May we face the coming year with humor and grace, 

riding the waves instead of letting them roll us under. 

May 2013 Fuck the Fuckity Fuck off. 

It can pucker up and kiss my ass.

Happy New Year!