Goodbye 35. You were a good year.

Dear 35,
You were a pretty good year. I met you in Chicago. While one of your first experiences with me was to deal with some serious arseholes at Stanley’s, we had an otherwise fun day. I spent much of the first part of you traipsing around the country. I finally got to meet some of my cousins and truly get to know my aunt. I don’t need to bring up the glory that was the road trip. It is documented on this here blog for all to see. Boy, I would like to do it again.

This year, I finally painted the apartment, though I have some reparations to make due to an unseemingly large orange monster who unceremoniously jumped onto shelves I had adhered to a wall with careful measuring and drilling. They came down, along with the cat and a bunch of ceramic mice that I have collected over the years, with what I can only assume was a bang as I was not home at the time of the crime. As I came upon the scene, it was carnage. Wall pieces were strewn about and dead (ceramic) mice lay scattered all over the place. Even my precious Tiffany frame, given to me by my old boss, framed only broken glass.

I took the GRE’s. While studying, I learned that I have been very confidently using impressive words incorrectly. Swell! But I did okay on the test, even though I showed up late and had to bribe my way in. I sweated over yet another entrance essay, but it was all apparently enough because I found myself accepted into American University’s Film program.

After sitting home watching TV (research!) for far too long, I begged my way into a waitressing position at a local restaurant where I now get to suffer the indignities of being hit on by the guys at my tables. I believe I was even approached to be the third in a threesome. (They left a note for me to come to their home). I foresee a book in my future. “Don’t hit on your server: and other great pieces of advice”. (That’s copyrighted, so don’t get any ideas).

My niece graduated high school. She will officially be half my age soon. Gag.

I bought myself a sweet scooter which now lives on my neighbors back patio because my association won’t let me put it anywhere because they suck and so do my neighbors. Seriously, you guys need to get some hobbies so you can do things other than complain all the time. (Okay, so it is in the condo’s bylaws that I can’t tie a scooter to a sign, but geez). Now the scooter won’t run because it has been sitting for so long. Awesome use of $1000.

Now that I am 36, I feel so mature. (Heh). But I am curious how this year will pan out for me. I am officially a student again and will be learning something I am super interested in. I will be broker than broke. (Back to listening to the ATM, hoping for the money sound). In December, I will be older than my brother ever got to be. That’s just weird.

Welcoming in 36 included oatmeal, frozen yogurt, and fondue and silliness and my family and my best friend. The night shift included sister, Laura, Marci, and a bunch of wildly drunk and rather annoying early 20 something year olds. Turns out I AM too old for the Ballroom. But laughing with my girls will never grow old!