2021 was not better than 2020. But we’ll get to that in a bit.

Sometimes I think I only come back to this blog to post a year-end review, and even that tradition is spotty at best. I’d like to change that in the new year. Definitely said that before. But here I am, trying to hash out something relevant, starting sentences with but, and all that.

Don’t get me wrong, 2021 had a lot going for it. For one thing, we didn’t have Trump to deal with (much). It was nice not to have the incessant, belligerent tweeting, fueling dumpster fires from the iPhone he keeps by the toilet. In his absence, however, we learned the problem wasn’t entirely him. Turns out, an uncomfortably large sect of the American population is just inherently racist, entitled pricks no matter who’s in charge. And while I haven’t necessarily ben wowed by Biden, I know all too well the oft overlooked contributions of someone working efficiently behind the scenes.

Biden has a lot on his plate, and unlike some of my fellow liberals, I didn’t expect him to solve it. I expected things to get better–and they have, marginally–but I don’t anticipate definitive change. America is a an experiment that has lost its control. We are a moon circling a planet with poor gravity, wobbling, slowly breaking orbit.

Which brings me back to my harsh truth: 2021 was not better than 2020. At least not for me. 2020 was a scary, untethered thing, but within the chaos, I knew my place: stay inside, watch old DVDs, and don’t get Covid-19. Wait it out.

2021 was much less clear. There were vaccinations and boosters and parties and breakthrough cases and dinner reservations inside restaurants. Some people wore masks, some didn’t. Some people got to see how the other half lived, pretending the virus wasn’t around anymore. Some people got the virus, survived it, said sweet, and had the best summer of their lives. No lines, no waits. The world was their oyster because people like me stayed inside. I did go into stores this year, which was new compared to 2020, but I can count the times I dined indoors on one clammy hand.

It was a taste of hope. A sample of normalcy that will never be back. And it made giving those things up twice as hard when The Variants Came (in Technicolor!). When the cases started to rise again, and the ICUs became clogged, I did what I do best: stay inside, watch old DVDs, and don’t get Covid-19. Wait it out. 2020 Mode engage.

But my friends didn’t, and I had to watch from my social media accounts how the world went on without me. I had a couple get-togethers, sure, usually demanding negative rapid tests to get in the door. A lot of fun, right? People obliged (which I’m truly grateful for) but a chill party host of me it did not make. Although they ended like my usual pre-Covid parties: with people losing my proverbial number.

It’s fine. I’m at the Acceptance stage now. I wouldn’t want to hang out with me either, and with the virus never going away, the purpose of friendships change.

I guess what I’m saying is, 2022 and beyond is just going to be more of the same. I’ll watch my old acquaintances go on trips and take masks off inside breweries and my blood will hopefully boil less as time goes on. At the end of the day, it’s not their fault–they believe something I do not, they have hope that I do not–so they are allowed their days in the sun. For most of them, the virus will be a non-issue. It’s also my choice how long I scroll through Instagram, I suppose, so acting as if it’s being shoved in my face is unfair.

Anyway, if you’ve slogged through this petty, self-indulgent pity party so far, I can at least reward you with some positivity. I had a lot of fun this year, plenty of highlights to, er, highlight.

For starters, 2021 was my first full year of having a dog. My roommate Mimi was a lot to handle, still is actually, and was a nice constant to stay tethered to. Once again, my amazing partner Kate proved me wrong: we did need a dog. Kate is right about a lot of stuff.

Another positive of 2021: it was an additional year with her in my life.

Speaking of proving people wrong, I proved a ton of people wrong (including myself) by writing a sequel to Coming of Mage. I knew if I couldn’t write it during a pandemic, I never would. So I hit it hard, meeting my goal of writing, editing, and publishing the sequel in under a year. A War for the Mages dropped in June, providing proper closure to the story of Quinn, Emma, et al. Only took about a decade too! I doubt you, reader, have been pining for more of my quirky alternate 80s wizard world but it’s out there. And, as much as I try to play it off, I am proud of it.

Another highlight related to that was getting to collab with my pal Aaron Thweatt on the cover. He knocked it out of the park on both the sequel cover and the new edition of the original. I also got to guest-host on an episode of his podcast, APDC, and we were both guests on the Mike Seibert Radio Podcast to talk about “the craft.”

A highlight within a highlight: getting to throw my mic back into the podcasting ring. It’s addicting and I hope I get more opportunities to do it in the future.

What else, what else? Oh! We rented out an entire movie theater to see Ghostbusters: Afterlife. Admittedly a lot of my bandwidth over the last couple years went to worrying if that movie was going to be good–and it was! Both nostalgic and new, with a big-budget-meets-cool-indie vibe that I can’t wait to rewatch. And seeing it in a setting I actually felt comfortable in, with the best of my Ghostbusters-fan friends was an experience that ended in joyful tears. If that was my last movie theater experience, I’m okay with it.

There was also my birthday. I was once again spoiled (and spoiled myself) with Transformers, pizza and the finest of craft beers. This year was especially memorable because I finally got to have the Transformers Trading Card Game tournament of my dreams, complete with a trophy crafted by my main man Dustin (swipe through the pics below). And even though I didn’t win it (grrrrr) it went to a deserving home. For now. Until next year. When I win it back, if that wasn’t clear.

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In its short life, the TF:TCG made a big impact on me. To commemorate it, I did something I *never* thought I would do: got inked. Gaze upon my pale shaven wrists if you dare!

And, of course, along the way there was laughter and cocktails and pizza and BOARD GAMES and comics and Star Wars books and little pockets of elation that can’t be remembered exactly but were there and real and left an impression. In short: it was another year of life. As much as 2021 was a confusing struggle to redefine my already-cloudy social norms, it was another opportunity to live. Another year I didn’t get Covid. I have no idea what comes next, but as long as I keep waking up, I’ll keep doing.

Stay inside. Watch old DVDs. Don’t get Covid-19.