Looking Back

I think it's a preference thing -- or a psychological thing -- but I love the retrospective. The idea of looking behind you, of reflection, of poking those old bruises. It keeps me sane and active and conscious of my progress (or lack thereof) and, not to mention, the effectiveness of my communication skills. I re-read one of my very first journals awhile back -- I started keeping them when I was 12 -- and I felt like I was reading someone else's words. Even looking back at my blog entries from Australia (2007) feels odd.

But today, perusing old blog posts, I realize I'd forgotten to write my list of the top 10 coolest things I'd done in the past year for New Year's. I like that tradition -- I started it in France (two Januaries ago!) because I had just so much damn cool stuff to talk about, and I think it made me feel good to put it into a list. 2010 had a lot of beginnings and ends of chapters, which also made good fodder for a list. 2011... interesting.

In no particular order: milestones, from January 2011 to January 2012:

1. Settled into the vibe of New York (finally!)
2. Learned how to sail a real sailboat (and not a Hobie!)
3. Bought my first Mac :)
4. Got a real real job -- and have stuck it out successfully
5. Went on a stunningly unreal hiking vacation in Iceland with my loved one
6. Witnessed and acted in (albeit, in a very small way) a protest
7. Spent New Year's Eve in Times Square
8. Became disillusioned with my graduate school...
9. Helped move my little sister into college
10. Turned a quarter-century!

This past year has been more about understanding myself and my surroundings and settling in than it has about doing crazy cool stuff -- which, at an ancient 25 years old, kind of makes sense. And is a relief -- I remember after just having moved here, I was having all sorts of problems -- I couldn't listen to music, I was so distracted; I got lost on the subway; I felt overwhelmed and hated my job.

My life is exponentially better, and somehow continues to get better, and I don't understand it. I love my job. I love my home life, and Don, and my cat (who has all but stopped peeing! finally). I love my friends,  and being able to explore the city with them. I love my family, who is supportive and fun and now that all three sisters are city-dwellers (well... almost!) things are even more exciting. I don't love my school, but I'm taking a semester off and trying to transfer, so we'll see how that works out.

I realize I haven't really ever been in one place long enough to fall in love with it, which is crazy compared to all the millions and billions of people out there who are born, grow up, and die in the same town, and have learned to love their home turf from day one. Growing up in Levittown doesn't really count, because I didn't have the self-awareness at age 18 to realize what it meant to feel a part of something; at Delaware, I was moving around too often (dormitory-wise) and never had enough time to really settle in. I left France just at the point of feeling like I was going to fall in love with it for real. But living here -- for the first time, I've been able to hang something up on the wall and think, "That's where this thing is going to be for awhile." That's so empowering!