2014, expounded

Facebook has not yet offered me the chance to do the “My Year” photo thread, but that’s okay because I’m going to do my own. So ha!

Month by month, I wish I could say this was a great year. It had its ups, for sure. It also had its deep-downs, the ones I thought I’d never get out of. I’ll try to deny my raging cynicism and not highlight those. No promises are made.

January

The word of that month, without a doubt, was coping. I was lonely, anxious, recently-dumped (okay, it was mutual, mostly my fault), and was mourning the loss of my first car, which at the time looked like this.

January was a month of adjustment. Of calling home, comforted by the sound of my mother’s voice as I cried about my new job. Dreading each new day of work, wondering if I was going to make it. I don’t remember anything particularly good.

February

To forget my sorrows, I threw myself into serving the young people in my church. This was, although extremely draining, joyful and fulfilling. I grew to love these girls like my little sisters.

I also visited Esther in the Bay Area and had my first fancy cupcake. Thus began my run of Travel Escapades 2014.

March

The sun came out. My prayers for real friendship and companionship were answered. Johanna moved in to the house where I was living; suddenly I wasn’t constantly annoyed by the round-the-clock sunny California weather.

I had a companion to serve with, and the joy of fruit-bearing and the grace that comes with serving the church became real. One of my best friends, Melissa, came to visit me (not specifically me, but she was in SoCal, and I made it all about me, naturally). That was rainbows and butterflies for at least a few days. (Work continued to drain my soul dry.)

April

All I remember is saving for summer trips. I cut back on iced coffees. That was not fun.

May

Travel Escapades Part Dieux: Seattle! I met Priscilla in 2013 in Brazil, and she happened to be living in Seattle at the time. I had to go.

Not pictured: a short trip to San Diego for Cinco de Mayo.

June

My dear friend Jenna and I had been itching to take a small road trip to get out of LA and run the wheels on my new MINI. So, we did. We drove up to Santa Barbara for some sight-seeing and visiting church members. Lovely, and I’m not just talking about the wine tastings!

I also had the pleasure of seeing old friends at a semi-annual church conference. I’m not a fan of catch-up lunches but I make time for it a couple of weeks a year. I came to Texas to visit family (homesickness was at an all-time high) and this started the long internal conversation of “why am I in LA?”

July

More long conversations with myself (and God, if I remembered to invite him to the round table of my vain thoughts) about where my life was going, why am I still single (I failed to mention in the past six months that I did some extensive online dating. Fruitless, obviously), and do I or do I NOT want to go to graduate school? I looked up at the sky for some writing. The LA pollution did not help.

August

In a burst of spontaneity (read: impulsivity) and in the middle of a week with bronchitis, kidney stones, a UTI, and girl issues, I decided to look for a job back in Texas. I think it was the kidney stones that broke the camel’s back. I’ve had more small illnesses in the past year than in the last 5. How annoying. I had to have my mommy. I got a job within two weeks. Just like that, I was leaving California.

September

I was turning 25 and I wasn’t going to do it alone. I flew to Boston to see Johanna (former roomie) and a few other sister-friends. It was beautiful and utterly hip and way too smart for me, but altogether a lovely way to spend my 25th. I do remember a carafe of wine being ordered at some point.

October

Texas became home again. I moved in with Jenna and Lydia, who welcomed me into a nice townhome in the middle of Austin. Here I was, starting all over again, owning my adult life. Moving was so traumatic, I could barely stand it. A few panic attacks were logged in the books. Not my proudest. I survived, didn’t I?

November

I settled into my new job and stopped feeling like I needed Xanax. (Okay, sometimes I wonder how awesome it might be to have some.) I decided I look great in my fitted Grey’s Anatomy scrubs. I made some work-friends.

December

I’m starting to feel like maybe everything is going to be okay. I cried a lot this year. I felt really sorry for myself, I let someone lead me on and break my heart, I went on more than a handful of disappointing dates. Sometimes I texted and drove. I didn’t call my mom enough; I could have prayed more.

I was embarrassed to want love. I’m in the stage of my life in which I desperately need something/someone to love. I’m not ashamed of that. I am ashamed that for whatever reason, I can’t seem to find it/him. As an over-achieving self-deprecating narcissist, this is extermely frustrating. I’ll probably get over it.

In these last few days of the year, I’m endeavoring to forgive myself. For everything, large or small. I want 2015 to be a year of contentment — of not having to run to far-away places to feel happy. I want to fall in love.