Farewell, 2013

The year has come to an end and I have mixed feelings about it. This has been the best and worst year of my life. I read a quote recently that some years ask questions and some years answer - this year had it all.

So here it is - my 2013 year in review.

Hope. I baked my birthday cake and made a "24" out of chocolate chips. I talked with my parents and Jason about everything I hoped 24 would hold for me. I was going to graduate, get some job in some city, and finally be in the same town as Jason. I had no clue where I would be in one year - there were a lot of unanswered questions but I had high hopes for the answers. I was ready for what 2013 held for me - or so I thought.

Isolation. Spring was my thesis semester. I only had one friend in grad school to start with, but without classes to force me out of my apartment I rarely came across other humans. I sat at my desk and wrote 12 hours a day - there were multiple 3-5 day periods where I didn't set foot outside my front door. I once broke a six-day hibernation only because I craved a burrito and was determined to find a Moe's. I'm fine spending time by myself so I wasn't lonely, but it was an interesting period of learning about myself and what I was capable of. Which leads us to...

Devastation. It sounds dramatic - but it was. In March, I turned in my thesis and was asked to start from scratch. I felt very lost and very confused and did NOT see it coming. It was a huge blow to my confidence and pride. I looked at every step leading up to that point and could not find where I went wrong - but sometimes you just get screwed. Which was hard for my controlling self to accept.

Dissapointment. I looked up to my thesis chair as a strong business woman who had steamrolled gender roles and taken the journalism world by storm. But not everyone gets to the top with their character in tact. I realized what was actually in front of me with one sentence - "You have to start from scratch - if you're going to cry, go to the bathroom and come back when you're done." The following seven weeks showed that this sentence was just the beginning. And, no, I didn't cry.

Determination. While it may have been fueled by spite, I was completely focused on finishing my second thesis in time to graduate in May. I worked around the clock with the cackling echo of "You'll never be able to get it done in time" on repeat in my mind. I've never had such a challenge and I've never had such a triumph. I finished my second thesis in three weeks.

Humility. I imagine I'll see this again someday with a boss, but I had to learn to swallow my pride. I've been raised that working hard and being a decent human will get you where you need to be, and that's just not always the case. Sometimes you have to obediently do what you're told - even if it means writing a forced thank you email with the head of the grad school copied because otherwise your approved thesis might not be turned in to the school on time. I had to learn that raising hell isn't always the answer - especially if your degree has a gatekeeper.

Risk. Two days after I defended my thesis, I interviewed for a three-month contracting position with Kimberly-Clark. I had my eye on K-C and had applied to multiple permanent positions. I was contacted by a recruiter for the contract but was only promised the three months. In the name of getting my foot in the door, I took the position. This meant signing a lease and moving Jason with me to Roswell on the hope that, if I worked hard enough, they'd hire me full time. In July they pushed my contract through September, in September they pushed it through Halloween, and in October they pushed it through December 31. Two weeks ago I signed my offer for a permanent position - starting January 1st. It has restored my faith in the existence of meritocracies.

Grief. At the end of June, a lifelong friend of mine was found in his apartment days after overdosing on heroin. We were in the same third grade class, sang in middle school chorus, acted in three school plays, and had the same friends in high school. His life took a turn when his parents sent him to military school for ninth grade and he was introduced to some substances. He wrote me a letter every week that year. It's a sad story of what substance abuse can do to such a great life.

Relief. In August, my degree was delivered to my parents house. And I cried.

Excitement. Also in August, Jason and I decided that we wanted to get married. It had always been on the horizon, but suddenly it was right in front of us. We were ready. The conversation went like this. I said, "I'm on the bus. Let's do this. Are you on the bus?" And he said, "I've been on the bus for a while, just waiting for you to hop aboard." Ahh, the romance.

Joy. In November, my beautiful sister Ashley told us that her and her husband are expecting a baby next June - I'm going to be an aunt! I already love the little nugget so much and it's only 16 weeks in fetus years. I can't wait to dress it in rude onesies and pass it back to Ashley when it produces bodily fluids.

Assurance. Eight days ago, Jason and I got engaged. I start my permanent position in a few days. I have a stack of bride magazines on my coffee table. My Etsy and Amazon carts are full of onesies ready to be purchased once we find out the gender of baby avocado. I am right where I need to be.

I feel like I turned 24 a decade ago. I thought I was ready for 2013 and I had no clue. So I will go ahead and readily admit that I can't pretend to guess what 2014 has in store. I guess we'll have to wait and see. Happy New Year!