Somehow, against all odds, we survived the dumpster fire of 2025, so we can now welcome the endless possibilities of 2026.

I’m feeling surprisingly optimistic about 2026. Despite all signs to the contrary, I think it has the potential to be a good year. I’ve got more than a few irons in the fire bookwise, with two books coming out this year and a third almost finished, the extended polyfamily is planning a trip to Reykjavik near the end of the year, and several large-scale maker projects are finally nearing completion.

I was born in 1966, so 2026 is a bit of a milestone. In honor of so many decades on this spinning ball in the vast frozen empty void, I plan over the next year to blog about this strange and relentlessly eccentric life I’ve lived so far: adventures, relationships, mistakes I’ve made, things I’ve learned along the way, as a way to reflect on the road that led me here.

It hasn’t always been a smooth ride, but I’ve arrived in a place where I am deeply, deeply happy in all of my relationships, and I am profoundly grateful to have these moments in the sun. (I’ve spent about thirteen and a half billion years, give or take, not existing, and a handful of decades existing. Existing is better.)

Here’s to warm wishes to all of you out there for a happy, prosperous, safe, and joyous 2026, despite the odds.

Cheers!