Dear No One in Particular,
First of all, I know I've neglected this space. I don't have a good reason. Honestly, I'm a little disappointed; if I had a legitimate reason drenched in awesomesauce for failing to write on a regular basis, I would totally feel like less of a loser. So while, no, I haven't been climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro, and no, I didn't punch a shark in the nose while collecting coral samples, I have been busy trying to figure out this "grown-up" nonsense. And let me tell you, it's been no picnic.
The start of a new year often necessitates a lot of selfish introspection; the start of a new decade, doubly so. Forgive me while I introspect selfishly? This is a blog, after all.
2009 was a beast of a year, for a lot of people. Almost everyone I know rang in the new year with a resounding "Thank God that's over with".
It wasn't that the year was particularly unkind -- at least, not to me -- it's that it was so fraught with drama, a hurdle to surmount every 5 paces, that it often felt that the end would never come. While it didn't come peacefully, the end is here. Thank God it's over with.
And now, a quick trip down memory lane. Visual aids when applicable, because words often fall short:
I graduated from 8th grade in 2000. There was so much pride and hope instilled in that fact: to be embarking on something so momentous and new on the cusp of a new millennium! It was almost poetic; in fact, I'm sure I have some rather awful poetry on this topic, just waiting to embarrass me.*
Equally poetic was my graduation in 2009. Two graduations bookended the decade; so much promise, so much uncertainty.
I can not begin to explain how freaking stressful it is to graduate from university. And yet, that last year, filled to the brim with tears and screams and hair torn from the roots, was easily the best in my academic career. I've never been so challenged by professors, nor had so much fun. I learned how to identify the gender and age of human skeletons, wrote an epic paper on the mind-boggling fluctuations of women's rights in Iran, decomposed logical arguments, and learned how to play the to'ere.
Mid-2009, following my graduation (insert fist-pump here), I moved from an isolated, technicolour island in the middle of the Pacific to a chilly city on the edge of California known for its bridges and foggy summer days.
While I consider both Honolulu and San Francisco home, I do not recommend this move. To anyone. Ever.
In 2009 I watched as my family shattered apart and came together again, drawing on a deep collective strength to create a new, fragile formation.
I also re-kindled a pathetically dormant relationship with my heart-sister. Moving back home after a long absence will do that to you.
If 2009 was a year of difficulties, then let 2010 be the year of relieved sighs.
It was a long, difficult slog through the mud, all the while hoping that the pinpoint of light dancing ever so unattainably on the horizon would bring good tidings and most importantly, a sense of release.
It's a new year, a new decade; it's a new start.
A toast to you, my lovely darlings: thank you for stopping by, commenting, for sending gorgeous gifts, for reaching out through the series of pipes and connecting with me. Here's to you, doll; I hope this year shines as brightly as you.
Now bring me that horizon.
*There are no photographs documenting my elementary school graduation because there's only so much humiliation I can endure.