Ah, 2008. I hardly knew ya, especially since I kept thinking you were 2009 all year.

I sit here in my pajamas at nearly 5 pm, having already visiting one of the 10 bars (we counted today) in my neighborhood for $1 mugs of Stag and the opportunity to hear someone exclaim, “That cocksucker stole my Fruit Loops!”. I’ve got Little Steven’s Underground Garage cranked, a Coke with a shot of Buffalo Trace bourbon, and I’m thinking about reflecting. However, having had two beers and a bit of bourbon, I’m going to need the assistance of my blog. That, and I’m lazy. There are invisible links after the name of each month, as I link to past entries that highlight my year. 2009. I mean, 2008.

January: Pilgrimaging to Ste. Genevieve with Kate.

Okay, so it’s weird to pick a day in which I saw a dog get hit by a car and later paid respects to a friend who died far too young as a highlight. January was kind of a shit month, though. Even though it was a sad day, it’s also the day that I mark the beginning of my friendship with Kate. We’d known each other for a few months, but I think she entered my heart in the cute little rented VW Beetle, singing Uncle Tupelo’s “Screen Door” at the top of our lungs after we flung flowers and artifacts into the river in honor of our friend Nat. A sad day, but a day of bright new beginnings.

Kate, lighting candles among the notes, eulogies, flowers, and tinfoil sculptures sent by Natalie’s friends, on the banks of the Mississippi River

February: My baby turned four.

The last few weeks of age three were pretty much filled with angst and terror. But when Clara Jane turned four, she became the sweetest child in the world, which has lasted until recently. I think she goes into some sort of bratty cocoon about two months before each birthday and then emerges on February 15th, all sunshine and sparkles.

How is it possible that this child is almost five? How is it possible she’s reading, on the verge of starting kindergarten, and saying things like, “You may have one good nerve left, Mimi, but I have five good nerves.”? Blows my mind, this one.

Clara Jane, killing time until the birthday party starts.

March: Wilco at the Ryman Auditorium in Nashville!

Holy crap, what a fun weekend! Brian and I headed south, honky tonked at Robert’s Western World, paid our respects at the Country Music Hall of Fame, learned the true glory of sweet potato pancakes at Pancake Pantry, and met fellow Wilcophiles Elizabeth and Kevin. There was a lot of PBR consumed. Oh, and I finally met Jeff Tweedy, Wilco’s brainchild and a former Prettytownian. Our conversation:

Me: We came from Belleville to see you!

Jeff: Really? Do you ever see my dad?

Brian and me, honky-tonking at Robert’s with Elizabeth and Kevin after the concert.

April: We have a tie! Hanging with my music nerd tribe in Chicago. Taking Clara Jane to her first rock show, of sorts.

I know, I’m a huge Wilco fan to the point of people who aren’t music geeks questioning my sanity. Get over it. We all have our something, right? The first weekend in April, I hopped a bus to Chicago to spend the weekend with Kate and a bunch of my fellow nerds from a Wilco fan community. Ever have a situation when you realize you’re among your people? People who can take something obscure that you thought meant something only to you, and prove that you’re sharing it? I had a whole weekend of that. Oh, the bonding! The putting faces with names! The silly dancing! The Convention of Curly Girls!

Me, Elizabeth, and Kim, enjoying our curls. And beer.

Later in the month, Brian and I went to National Record Store Day at Euclid Records. One of my favorite bands, The Bottle Rockets, were doing an in-store. Clara Jane has loved them since she was old enough recognize music, so of course we took her. Before the performance, I talked to lead Bottle Rocket Brian Henneman. I got some stories about the early days of the Bottle Rockets, and his time with Wilco in their early days and Uncle Tupelo in the later days. I mentioned that “Love Like a Truck” has been one of Clara Jane’s favorite songs since birth, and this was her reaction when they burst into it during the performance:

Clara Jane, experiencing her first hardcore rock-out.

May: Holy crap, three Wilco concerts with all those crazy music nerds!

I know. I have a problem. Luckily, so do a lot of my friends. It’s not a problem when you’re having the most fun of the entire year, spread over three days and nights, though.

Maggie, Allison, Brian, and their good friend Maker’s Mark.

My favorite parking lot urchins.

Everyone has something beyond the people she loves that gives them joy and purpose. This is mine.

June: Another two-fer. Girl’s weekend in the woods. Hanging with Sally in Detroit.

June was so filled with estrogen. Early in the month my dear, sweet, way-too-generous friend Summer arranged for five chicks to whoop it up in the southern Illinois woods for a weekend. Lovely cabins, tons of food and libations. Lots of fun n’ games. And not a single ‘gine hole tick!

Since I was the only person that weekend who hasn’t gotten paid to take photos, I didn’t bother to take any pictures. So here’s a shot of the strawberry jam and strawberry lemonade concentrate I made in June.

Two weeks later, I flew to Detroit to visit my dear British friend Sally. Most of you probably know that Sally lives in London. Her sister lives in Detroit, so when Sally visits her sister, she’s about as close to being in the neighborhood as possible. So I go to Detroit fairly often. I love Sal, and I love any time we get together. She’s one of those rare people who I know will accept me no matter what. Regardless of how long we go without seeing each other, we’re always able to pick up and run with our friendship.

My sister from another country giving me some love at a downtown Detroit Starbucks, shortly after we saw a naked man in front of KFC.

I’ve been here an hour. The Coke and bourbon’s well into my brain. I need three kinds of dip. We shall continue with the second half of 2008 tomorrow.