Bah. Need I say goodbye to 2006 already? I’m neither ready nor willing to loosen my grip on it quite yet.

Sure, 2007 is already shaping up to be an interesting 12 months. California beckons, creative endeavors are on the horizon, I need to complete my 365 days project and I’m hoping to get back to both the District City and Texas.

But this year, the one dusting its cheeks as it prepares for its curtain call, has set the bar high. It’s only when I look back on it as a collective whole that I wonder how on earth it all came together.

My creative muscles were worked and grew stronger. Texas, the artist biography (and an amended version, which may or may not be making its debut at some point down the road), a sparked passion for photography and a lot of other things I won’t mention here — there was a lot of work and gratifying dividends that resulted.

There were shows here, there and everywhere else. I stood in the photo pit, at the back of the house and behind the artist at the end of the night. Some musicians became friends, others offered me a chance to help communities, and still others yet simply made me giggle and swoon a lot bit. There was debauchery, there were hugs, a close encounter  and unexpected pieces of circles drawn together by a Brooklyn band.

I met one of my best friends this year, when we girl-huddled outside a rain-soaked Stuart Street theater to avoid the man who was starting to spook our crowd of would-be patrons. She said I looked familiar and asked if I wrote ablog. A few months later, we were sprinting over cobblestones in heels, trying to catch a boat, laughing out what little breath we had left from the run.

I met some really cool folks, while existing friends continued to inspire, support and amuse me. And while some friendships were strained — I still don’t know what that towel business was all about — the ones that were important lasted.

The Red Sox were both as frustrating and loved as ever — but I managed to find my favorite seat in all of Fenway. I also discovered the amusement that is text message game commentary from different spots in the park (“How close did the home run come to your spot?”)

Oh, and I jumped into a cold lake and was called onstage with friends to belt out the song (or, more appropriately, portions thereof).

So it’s, you know, a little hard to let that all slip into “last year” mode.

2007, watch out. You’ve got to bring your A-Game.