I didn't manage to be as funny, and my confessional style ended up embarrassing me and complicating my relationships. At the end of nine months, I'd had it with my public navel-gazing and canned the thing.
It wasn't much but it was the most honest, time-intensive, and complex creative project I've ever undertaken. First-person essays can make a body feel pretty self-important sometimes, but it is the most natural way for me to write and I'm going to keep doing it. Every day. For a year.
I'll never learn! Here goes 2011.
(For New Year's Eve, my buddy Matt constructed this three-foot-diameter glitter ball from papier-mache and slowly lowered it from the second story of his apartment building using a dubiously secure pulley system. This, champagne bottles sabered open with knives, and bottle rockets sent sailing into nests of power lines - and everyone went home with both eyes. Auspicious!)