Today is the first day of the Chinese New Year. For the Chinese it’s a sacred tradition going back thousands of years. For everybody else it’s a chance for a New Year’s resolutions do-over, only this time swapping out the champagne for the much cooler scorpion bowls. As for me, this Chinese New Year holds a very special significance, because it’s the Year of the Rat.
For those of you who are too happy and fulfilled to care about such things, the Rat is the first animal in the Chinese Zodiac. It’s a twelve-year cycle represented by twelve different animals, and your animal is determined by the year you were born. That’s right, those of you who have been paying close enough attention to put two and two together before I finish this incredibly long sentence, I was born in the Year of the Rat. This is my year! Despite the fact that rats are disease-carrying-crop-destroying vermin that rational people kill on sight, this is my year! Despite the fact that the zodiac is about as accurate as horoscopes and meteorologists, this is my year! Despite the fact that I can’t think of a third thing, this is my year!
Why do I harbor such unfounded optimism? Because I’m a writer. Unfounded optimism fuels our flighty little brains, which occasionally spit out some good stuff. So take a look around my website and feel free to email me if you have any questions, or just want to give me money to whip up more gems like this.