A WORD on Taking a Moment at the Closing of the Year

So it is time once again to mention my #1 Blog Muse, Johnny Dice, who recently wrote a wonderful series of blogs that chronicled his college and post-college years. It allowed those of us who were lucky enough to be there with him for some of that time to relive old memories, and now John has a permanent record of why those years really were amazing and incredible.

Inspired by John, I have decided (before I go out and get tanked, that is, it is New Years) to create my own "annual report" of sorts (leaving out my finances, too depressing!), and to write a blog reflecting what kind of year 2004 has been for me. Unfortunately for you all, I fear that my blog might be a tad more narcissistic than John's. But who knows, you shouldn't count their chickens before they are written. If you'd like to journey through the past year with me, well, I'm glad. Bear with me.

January:
Bitter cold hits the city like never before. It is actually unadvisable to travel out of doors. This, however, does not stop me from going out on the town...it just makes it a lot harder and requires more accessories made of wool. This month was about little memories, nights that seemed insignificant at the time, but still make me smile. My NYL girls and I ventured up to the Upper East Side for Vic's birthday party, where we enjoyed dancing and the fact that we were temporarily out of the winter's chill. Two of my former roommates met me for dinner in Little Italy, which proceeded to the coldest walk to Magnolia Bakery EVER. I consequently discover that Magnolia cupcakes taste much better at room temperature. The best thing, though, came at the end of the month. I am finally brought to Culture Club, Mecca, and the happiest place on earth for anyone born in the late 70s and early 80s. I wore big earrings, drank "smurfs", and danced and danced.

February:
I discover that Friendster rules, as a flood of childhood friends come back into my life thanks to the ease with which we can find each other and send each other messages saying "let's meet up!" Among this assortment Alli, an old camp friend, and I start meeting up for dinners and I remember just how awesome she is/was. At the end of the month, on that rogue 29th day thanks to leap year, Matt has is very first Oscar party (which, I'm excited to say, is currently being planned once again for this year). I ponder that I might make "oscar cupcakes" and when everyone jumps with glee, I think "dang, why do I get myself into these messes...how the hell does one make Oscar cupcakes..." I use my noodle, with the help of Leah and Jen Roy, and the desserts become legendary. I will make them again this year. That reminds me, I need muffintins ....

March:
Crap month. March started off phenomenally badly, and for the rest of the month I just held on for dear life. News of the death of Chris Biello swept through the Fairfield alum circuit. Seven months later it is still entirely unbelievable to me that he is gone. I almost moved in March, but discovered that I am definitely a "downtown girl." You live in the city your whole life, so you think you are simply a "city girl" but no, apparently it gets much more specific than that. Neighborhoods have claims on you. The Upper East Side came a-calling, and I ran a-screaming. All this stress takes its toll on me, and at the end of the month I go to give blood and discover that my blood pressure is soaring, in spite of my 3-4 visits per week to the gym and careful nutrition. Consulting with a doctor about my fate, we agree: it's time for me to devote some time to chilling out.

April:
God took pity. After the hell of March, April rocks. It begins with a "daylight savings party" at which we discover the silly joy of being out for the night and discovering it's suddenly four AM. I am also introduced to the magic of Pixar films by Mr. Pixar himself, and it's nice to take a break from chick flicks for awhile. April also marks the beginning of my brunette era. I go to see my new hairdresser, Louie (now my beloved hairdresser, Louie) and he painstakingly works for over two hours to take the blond brassy highlights out of my blessed hair. During the process, Louie is horrified to learn that I did these highlights myself (with an Herbal Essences kit). I think my favorite "Louie quote" was "hmm, you're right handed, aren't you." Thus, with Louie's help, I was able to step back into the world with the hair color God had given me.The highlight of April, however, is taking my first "adult" vacation to Fort Lauderdale with one of my best friends in the whole world. For six days our only task is to sit on the beach. This year Stace and I have narrowed the vacation choices down to two: cruise to Carribean, or exploring the West: San Francisco. I can't wait to see what we choose.

May:
I get out my carry-on sized wheelie suitcase, pack some dark suits, and off I go on my first business trip to one of our Service Centers in Cleveland. It's Cleveland, where I've been a million times thanks to my mom's Ohio roots. I still discover the joys of being paid to get away, leaving everything behind but my cellphone, which I use to call only the people I want to talk to. I also develop a crush on a Cleveland underwriter. He's cute, in spite of the midwest accent. I make it home just in time to participate in NYL's bowlathon, with a team of 14 other underwriters. I suck at first, rolling gutter-balls, but go on to become the team's "MIP" (Most Improved Player). May also marks the "funnest night in the history of fun nights." Liz, Don, Ben, and I venture below Washington Square and discover the joys of being the only ones at karaoke. Don learns how to use the machine, and the bar just lets us be as we call up song after glorious song. We were like crack addicts, we just had to have more! I got home at 2:30 am and got up four and a half hours later to go to work, smiling.

June:
I come to work one Friday morning and am composing myself for the day when we hear a slight crash and the lights flicker. Seconds later the fire alarm starts going off and security is telling us to evacuate due to a "smoke situation." Stoically we zip down the twenty flights of stairs to the street, where we discover that "smoke situation" is more like "big fat fire." All three thousand of us stand in Madison Sq Park while a fire team gets things under control. Three hours later, we are allowed back upstairs. While the situation was handled beautifully, we are all still unnerved at the risks of working in a NYC tower, especially in view of what happened less than three miles from our office in 2001. With month's end, I lay my third cellphone to rest. My beloved blue Motorola reaches the end of it's term and retires with dignity. It took it's 401k and put a down payment on a condo in Florida. I get a postcard every now and then.

July:
Summer is in full force in the city, as our much anticipated "half day Fridays" are started up again at work. Glorious four-and-a-half-day weeks give me much time to enjoy the beautiful summer that was 2004. Highlights this month include getting the chance to see the Philharmonic play their free concert in Central Park, and "Much Ado About Nothing" with Jimmy Smits in the leading role. I also find the time to steal away from the city. Using my half day Friday and two personal days, I sneak up to New Hampshire to see the one and only Stacy. On the second day of my visit, she and Corey announce they are taking me somewhere...and they irritatingly refuse to tell me anything further. A half hour later we pull up at a national park because we are going to climb a mountain. (...?!?!) Thus, Princess Mary sucks it up, does some stretches, and with the help of strong Corey, I make it to 2800' of the 3100' mountain. When we stopped for lunch at 2800' Stace and Cor noticed how quiet I was being, I later commented "duh, we hadn't come down yet, I was praying." All joking aside, I atill can't believe I was able to do it.

August:
Starts with a bang as I manage to see not one, but two Broadway shows in a week. Since "Bombay Dreams" was free, and the tickets for "Caroline or Change" were 50.00 through the TKTS booth, that averages to 25.00 per ticket per show. This means I rule. Then my life turns to shit once again. I try not to curse on this blog, so I have reserved strong words for when they are absolutely necessary. once again. It would be prudent of me to stray from going into any further detail, but sufficed to say, I'm (most likely) running on the Hypertension Train once again. It is also important to emphasize that this crap time in my life wasn't the fault of any one event, it was more of a murphy's law of whatever that is bad that can happen will happen, and all at once. The ears of many patient, caring, and blessedly uninvolved friends put the smile back on my face, and my BP down from stroke level. The motto of this month was keepin' it classy.

September:
I do something I don't normally do: hang out with Fairfield U alums that actually graduated in my class. Tina and Angela's shared birthday gets us all out for a night of bar-hopping, and it is an absolute blast. Tina and Angela aren't the only ones with birthdays in September. I bite my lip, and leap into my 24th year, and I celebrate by having a party at perhaps the most user-friendly bar in the world. Because I have no place to put my CT friends up in, we stay out until 5:30 in the morning, when trains start their morning runs back to CT. Of those in that 5:30 crew, we all agree that we are just too old to do stuff like that anymore. Still, best birthday on record! September also starts my search for an apartment, and I discover just how many crappy apartments there are in NYC.

October:
The search for an apartment continues, as I engaged the help of countless brokers and other assorted people with access to information in the real-estate world. I take a break from this torture, however, to take a roadtrip to Michigan with my father. His mother (my grandmother) had a stroke last September and has since been in a nursing home. This was my first visit with her since her stroke. I find her much altered, but in a strangely good way, and many of the things that were wrong with our relationship before become fixed. It's been a little over eight weeks since I returned from that trip, and in it's aftermath I have the strange feeling that it was one of those things that happen in our lives to change us a bit, but for the better, thank goodness. The month ends with Halloween and I am Lucy Ricardo at the work halloween party, and I am Minnie Mouse at all the other festivities I attend. I find at the Village Halloween Parade that I am a huge hit with the kids. This makes me very happy. This makes me very happy indeed. I almost move to the teensiest apartment ever created, on Leroy Street. Then, I don't.

November:
I discover The OC, which is a bloody great show, and now I very nearly have something to fill the void that Sex and the City left. Also, I really decide to move...and this time I sign a lease! The apartment I lease is in my fate, as it was previously lived in by my mother when she was a single girl breaking into Manhattan for the first time in the early seventies. I am still scared out of my mind. The same woman, my mother, told me that the longer I waited to move, the harder it was going to be, and I suspect she was right (don't tell her.) The Monday after thanksgiving I move, leaving home, and an entirely new era begins...

December:
No sooner do I move in, then I get the stomach flu, badly. To use the words of my coworker Terry, who had been stricken by the same illness not two weeks earlier, "I was praying to something...and it wasn't Jesus." I spend my second night living alone trying to weather this illness. It hits me harder than any stomach flu ever has, and I go from Tuesday night to Saturday night before I have a solid meal. A week later I sing in my concert and come home running a high fever. Before I know it, I'm back on a sick bed recovering with the help of antibiotics (note, Biaxin=evil). All complaining aside, caring for myself provides an accelerated course to the art of living alone, as I realized that I'm well versed in the art of caring for the sick (for instance, you must drink Gatorade following the stomach flu to replace all the electrolytes you lost, and tylenol will bring a fever down...if that isn't working: ice). Christmas comes and so does Santa, and I'm well enough to sing the carols at Midnight Mass. And thus the year comes to a close, with a lot of growing up done, and a lot to be thankful for.

What does 2005 promise (besides lots of bills and budgeting)? Who knows. So far I've made a couple of resolutions and I already know what I'm giving up for Lent. In any case, it's been terribly interesting to look at the last 12 months all at once. Thanks for coming along.