Trying to remember what experiences filled a year, all 365 days of it, is nearly impossible. I can barely remember what I did last week, let alone twelve months ago. But I guess that’s why we have journals, and planners (and, more likely, blogs and Twitters and Facebook statuses) –what we write down, we can later look back and reminisce upon. What we write down is most likely the most important stuff anyway. The problem with my blog is that I tend to write all sorts of artsy fartsy things instead of what is actually happening in my life, but despite that I have combed my various outlets of expression and have pieced together my 2010.
In January, I moved into my cozy little East Village apartment. I remember being absolutely terrified, my first night there. I was alone, on a sagging air mattress, with only the bare necessities, hearing the ominous nighttime sounds of an ancient walkup for the first time. But I made it through the night, and I have made that apartment my home. January was the month that saw the earthquake in Haiti, the death of JD Salinger, and the announcement of the iPad (insert tampon joke here). It is also the month in which, according to my Twitter, I “had a dream where I wrote out the Boom Boom Pow lyrics in magnetic poetry and danced in a safari.”
February was dreary, I’m assuming, because I can’t remember much. The Winter Olympics happened, I know, as did the Tiger Woods scandal. As for my personal life, the only thing I could glean from my digital doings was extreme excitement about snow days. In fact, I apparently wore my pajamas inside out on more than one occasion. March, like February, is blurry. Those wintry months are never all that special, to me. Perhaps I should become a bear and start hibernating through this season. Or a fish.
April was unseasonably warm, if you remember. On April 7th, in fact, I tweeted “80 degreeeeeeees yowza.” (I have a way with words, I know). I remember forsaking my homework and instead sitting on rooftops with pretty friends, watching the city ebb and flow beneath us. April was also when I got to see Florence + The Machine in concert, one of the best live performances I’ve ever seen.
May 12, 2010: Faustyna turns twenty-one. I rang in my birthday with a small group of friends at the W Hotel in Times Square, sipping a Manhattan, of course (a not-so-tasty drink, as I learned, but being completely and utterly cliché was fun). In May, I finally (belatedly) got around to realizing that the oil spill in the Gulf was not your run-of-the-mill oil spill and voiced my outrage by boycotting BP. But then I realized that my brief protest was really quite pointless, as I only drive when I’m in Ohio. Speaking of Ohio, late May saw my arrival upon the campus of THE Ohio State University, where I was surrounded by inordinate amounts of straight men and I didn’t know how to handle it.
Summer. Ahh, summer. In June, I started my career as the marketing intern at BBC America and subsequently began to think and dream in a British accent. I spent a lot of time at the Bowery, working for and accommodating the needs of New York’s high rollers. Also obnoxious tourists. June was also the beginning of Governor’s Island Boot Camp. Every Friday morning (well, almost) found me, and a very good friend of mine, in line for the ferry that would take us to Governor’s Island, a funny yet idyllic little place five minutes from the tip of Manhattan. Free bike Fridays, oh how I miss thee! June was also the beginning of the World Cup and the reaffirmation of New York’s love affair with day drinking.
July was hot. Hot hot hot. An old childhood friend of mine was my roommate for the month, and together we’d sit in my unairconditioned apartment and do a little creative journaling. Watercolors and magazine cutouts and colored pencils. I remember restaurant week with two new and incredible friends of mine, and dreaming up screenplay ideas with them over gourmet homemade pizza. I remember discovering the greatness that is Santa Cruz Strawberry Lemonade (it was on sale at Whole Foods literally all of July). And, finally, the song that best sums up the month: “¡Yo soy español español español!”
August was also hot, but my cheap and frugal side (it exists! I swear!) refused to buy an air conditioner. I began to really enjoy going to work simply because it was cool. Er, refreshingly cold. August was the month of concerts in Central Park, and ritzy dates at hotel bars with older men. It was also the month of my retreat to the cool waters of Lake Placid. What a trip! The Adirondacks might just be my happy place.
September saw the beginning of my senior year of college. That’s really all I have to say about September, although major worldwide events such as the withdrawal of the last combat unit in Iraq and the death of the Segway owner (by riding his Segway off a cliff…) also transpired. October was more exciting, at least from what my Twitter tells me. I got to attend the centerpiece film of the New York Film Festival, which was Julie Taymor’s adaptation of The Tempest, starring, among others, Helen Mirren and Russell Brand, with whom I shmoozed on the top of the Empire Hotel after the screening. October was also the month in which I sold my soul to the CrackBerry. The month wrapped up with a road trip to our nation’s capital, where I restored sanity.
November: midterm elections. I was not a happy camper. Among my tweets of displeasure, this disturbing fact: “Meg Whitman’s personal spending on her campaign: $163 mil. Natl Endowment for the Arts 2010 budget: $161.4 mil.” I really don’t know what else happened in November, with the exception of the release of the first installment of the last Harry Potter movie—which was incredible, but made me feel really old.
December. Here we are (phew). WikiLeaks! Cleftos road trip! (I haven’t devoted any words to the Cleftos here yet…but those girls are an incredible part of my life and we have so much fun together. Hell, I got to beatbox a marriage proposal. Tell me that’s not fun.) Repeal of DADT! And Christmas. God I love Christmas.
In retrospect, 2010 was a really really (really) great year. For me, anyway. (I hope it was good for you too!) To ensure 2011 is just as good, a sampling of my New Year’s resolutions and goals:
- Graduate!
- Find a job…eek.
- No but seriously. A REAL JOB. Like a real person.
- In a less serious vein, use only reusable shopping bags.
- This is pretty important, but workout 3-4 times per week.
- Be proactive in my classes/in networking situations.
- Cook more!
- I’m going out on a limb here, but… fall in love? Granted, it doesn’t have to be with a person, I can just find a new passion or something…But ho-lee-crap do I want it to be with a person.
- Stop slouching (this one’s for you, mom).
- Pay off loans (!)
- Write more. Read more. Smile more.
Happy New Year, everyone.
