I can't believe it's been two weeks already, but this morning I'm headed back to Virginia for Christmas! It's definitely going to be a weird one without Rocky, but I'm really looking forward to spending some more time with my family and meeting up with my sweet friends. I don't plan to publish a blog post every day as usual, so feel free to follow along with me on Instagram, where I tend to over-share, especially when I'm visiting home.
Talk to you guys again soon! Safe travels to anyone else headed home for the holidays this week.
It was this year that I finally stopped measuring my life by semester.
Do grown people still do that? For so long, my year began in the fall, took a break around Christmas, and began again in January before ending in the spring. It was Freshman Year and The Summer Of, over and over again, I guess until recently, when I started running out of things to call them. I finished graduate school in October of 2012, and then it was 2013.
Recently, I've been thinking about the years that passed by not so long ago, the ones I always refer to by name--those years that made me into who I am today. I look back and am often slightly embarrassed by the girl who was there at the time, living out the scenarios that are now my memories. Those last years of high school seemed so crucial, and yet today I look back and say "how stupid," even though I needed them.
Junior Year of High School is when I started dating the boy who, five or six whole months later would be the first guy to break my heart. He taught me how to get over something and be stronger for it at the end of the day. I was really into my running and my school and my friends and my religion and I never anticipated a day when things would be different. I applied to colleges and went on visits and tried to picture a day where things might change, but I just couldn't see it yet.
Senior Year of High School was dramatic and life-changing in the way that high school is. New boyfriend, new heartbreak, except that this one taught me how not to get over something, and all the ways you could be regretful at the end of the day. I graduated and went to college, convinced that I would never change, that I would keep all the friends I had left back home, that this must be what growing up felt like.
Freshman and Sophomore Years of College were full of new people and self-discovery; a psychology major and a Spanish major and a whole lot of intro classes before I finally declared an English major. I learned that just because someone is handsome and nice doesn't mean he is sent to you from heaven above or something, and that notion was challenged at the beginning of Junior Year when the boy I believed to be my soul mate sat down on my bed and broke up with me. He was everything I thought I ever wanted, and for a year I had ignored how hard I needed to try to be everything he thought he ever wanted. Real love is work sometimes, but it isn't hard, and I hadn't learned that yet. He taught me to love myself and be happier for it at the end of the day.
The rest of Junior Year and the following Senior Year was what I suspect college is really supposed to be--I spent time making awesome memories with my friends. I was deeply engrossed in my courses, and read hundreds of pages a day in between classes. I started feeling like William Shakespeare and I knew each other well. I stayed out too late, often drank too much, and wore ridiculous outfits to theme parties with my roommates. We got in stupid fights and never really learned how to communicate until much later, but they were my best friends and we loved each other. We ate chips and queso dip almost every afternoon in our living room. I got a tattoo, wrote every day, could barely picture a life where I wasn't a student, and met the man that, five and a half years later, I'm about to marry.
My life has been so blessed. As I grow older I am learning to be so thankful for everyone whose path has crossed mine; for everything that has gotten me to where I am today. When I was in Virginia for Thanksgiving, my old roommates and I got together for a weekend and we picked up right where we left off and had a great time, but we still all seemed so much different--the better, adult versions of ourselves. Life happens and you lose track of time. Earlier this week, Rob and I were driving to dinner together, bundled up in our coats and scarves and I almost laughed looking out the snowy window thinking about winter in Minnesota--this random possibility that has become a reality for us. We live here now--we're done with school and we're working and this is our home now. I love it. I wouldn't change a thing.
Maybe as we grow older, we encounter fewer defining moments and feel less inclined to identify years in a special way. But maybe that's not true, either, because in 2013 I got engaged to the love of my life and moved to a new part of the country. I started blogging full time and challenged myself to write more and cook more and let go of the things that scare me. I'll never forget this year--it has been one of the best. Losing my dog has made it bittersweet, missing him so much and knowing that none of us will live forever, but hoping that we'll all be reunited in some way in the future.
And with 2014 looking at us from the last page of our calendars, I know that this new year will also be life-changing as I walk down the aisle and get a new last name and will probably move again (this time with my husband) and try to find more ways to push myself and get better and feel even more thankful for this life we're living.
All of these years are special, no matter how we refer to them when we look back.
Wishing you all love and peace and happiness, every day of every year.
I want to thank you so much for all the love and kind words about my sweet dog's passing. Rocky was wonderful and he's already missed so much. I've spent the past four days in bed a lot, but also trying to smile and indulge in a lot of my favorite things, like breakfast and whole milk lattes at my favorite place, followed by season one (okay, and most of season two) of Girls on HBO GO.
I am doing my best to keep myself distracted and feeling happy. I've felt at moments that I'd like to take some time away from this blog, but I also think life needs to go on as regularly as possible (spending an entire day in bed watching shows and eating gluten-free pizza is not something I do regularly, so I think I will attempt to blog instead).
So let's move on a bit. I've been really excited to share this new-to-me company with you. Whether you are sad or happy or confused or angry, flowers are always nice, right? I received a gorgeous bouquet of roses from The Bouqs earlier this week and I must say, it was nice to have it on my dinner table these past few days.
Their website is beautiful and easy to use and you know exactly what you're getting. These are Diamonds, from the Volcano collection. I've always loved roses, but I thought the little pop of white was really nice.
Thank you again for all the love I've received, and for your patience as I get back on my feet. And as always, thank you so much for your support as I continue to work with sponsors, especially this holiday season. It is such a blessing to have this built-in support system of friends I haven't met before, and I'm so thankful for each and every one of you.
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PS The Bouqs is actually hosting a contest this week--one person will win twelve months of Bouqs! This contest runs until Monday, December 23rd at 10AM PST. Here's how to enter:
2. Leave a comment on this post telling us who you would send a Bouq to and which one you'd choose. (Tell us who would receive a Bouq, which Bouq you'd send, and why that person is special to you or why that Bouq is perfect for them.)
One winner will be chosen from all participating blogs. Good luck!
