So which is it? The end of the old year, or the beginning of the new year? What sort of person are you?

Are you currently in the throes of looking back—happily or sadly—on 2011 and saying “damn, that was something” or are you held in thrall (demonsweatlive) of the looming twelvepocalypse and saying “damn, this will be something”?

I really don’t know where I fall between those two camps. On the one hand, 2011 was very good to me—my own little mopster!—but on the other hand, I lost my dog; another quiet casualty of the motherfucking world turning.

I am, however, looking forward to whatever is on the horizon with 2012. It promises to be full of new and exciting things for me as a father, and of course, not to take work/business for granted, but I’m sure if I’ve got the will, I will find a way to keep that thing ticking, too. Toys are either getting more exciting or less exciting—depending who you ask—and so I’m sure there will be plenty to talk about in that neck of the woods, too.

But what about me? Let’s get to me. As you know, O loyal order of Bloglin, I make this shit about me. I lure a bright magenta hook in the water and wait for you to come hither and nibble at the legitimate awesomeness that is this brand and then boom. A razor-sharp piece of middle-aged shrapnel screams right through your young and tender gills. You are now unwittingly reading about me and my feelings.

I’d like to find time to write more. I’d like to be here more often. Hell, I’d like to actually READ this blog…something about this past year has made me all but immune to new and exciting things on the internet. That probably includes everything—music, videos, memes—I don’t even think the porn I’ve been looking at is altogether new or fresh. Go fig.

I have wondered several times in the past few months at whether or not I’d ever return here (as an author, at least)…and I suppose I’ll keep wondering that between posts. Mishka has been such an awesome entity to be associated with….even in this loosest of ways, that I would hate to fall out of touch with that. Of course, on the other hand, I’m not gonna write about stuff just to write about stuff…I mean, it’s gotta be interesting, right? I worry about my predilection towards kid stuff now, as of course, I’ve always worried about my distance from ‘you all’…not just in terms of locale, but also in terms of age. Perceived age?

Why is it that I constantly do that to you? Why do I assume that I am at home, kicking back with Stephen Ambrose and PBS while you’re out at some sort of epic topless comedy club? I’m pretty sure that assumption is rude to both of us…but why can’t I shake it? #sorryBroDidn’tMeanItLikeThat

Are we all growing up together? Is this what that feels like? As time goes by, and we all sit here and mutate and feed and grow these ideas that are all rooted in nostalgia…is that what growing up feels like? And how many of you are so young and new and fresh that you don’t remember the first time that Air Jordans incited violence on the street? How many of you think My Pet Monster is something new? #seeAboveHashTag

Jesus. What a bummer. Why am I being a bummer all of a sudden? I came here to talk about toys. Didn’t I?

Reflection is good. It’s good to know what you do and why you do it. Right? There is absolutely nothing wrong with asking questions of oneself to really get a handle on how one feels. Maybe the weird part is that one is asking these things of oneself while 10,000 or so other ones sit around and wait for one to get to one’s point. Maybe?

As life—in all it’s forward-moving glory—progresses ever forward, I know I feel good about looking back. I know I feel good about toys. And I know I feel good about talking to you, The Bloglin, about all of that shit. I’m getting ready to enter my fourth year of posting here (which is sort of a lie…I don’t really count ’11, as I wasn’t really ‘here’) and I’m excited. I have absolutely NO idea what I plan on talking about, but I know I want to talk about it…and I know I want to talk about it to you and you.

I read a really fantastic article in GQ the other day (I was sitting on a couch in a hair salon waiting for my beautiful wife to get her eyebrows done…the kid was on my lap and I was feeding him cheerios with one hand and turning pages with the other [note: looking to get laid? find a kid {any kid} and take him to a hair salon.]). It was about how Aziz Ansari, James Murphy and David Chang sort of stumbled into this rad situation in which GQ was paying for them to go to Japan together and geek out on food and each other, etc.

Fuck…where am I going with this? Long story short: Bloglin Summit needs to happen. I have become pretty good (internet-, but still) friends with several of the dudes who post here, and I would just love to get in a room—any room—with them and shoot the shit. About whatever.

I guess this is more of an aside that I originally planned intended, but anyway, I guess the gist is that I love the Bloglin. I love you, the readers. And most of all, I’m oh-so-very fond of the friendships and acquaintances I’ve made through this site over the past three years, and I look forward to this next one. Very much so.

Happy New Year, Bloglin. Thanks for letting me play.

Oh. Shit. Right. I made a movie for you to watch and enjoy. Please watch and, um, enjoy.

Until next time.

- Hateball