A Year in Review: 2013

Another year, another 365 days of a whole lot of nothing that I can somehow turn into a whole lot of something when I want. No matter how good or bad this past year was, I think we can all agree it flew by. 2013 was like a Wall Street stockbroker on cocaine (sorry, just saw "Wolf of Wall Street" and those analogies are fresh on my brain). Zip boom bam and it was over. And, quite honestly, I'm pretty happy to see it go.

You have good years and bad years. You have so-so years. You have years that are a mass combo of all the above. But I'm not really sure how to categorize this year because it was made of a handful of milestones sprinkled with numerous moments of WTF.

Let's start from the top, I guess. That makes sense, right?

- NYE last year was surprisingly not disappointing.

I ended up black girl dancing all over an ex high school love interest at a crossdresser's live music show at a club in downtown Dallas. We made out like our plane was going down, and then I hosted a co-ed slumber party in my small apartment where I hoarded about six flour tortillas in my room and awoke in the middle of the night only to find two friends sleeping on an air mattress in my bathroom. So, all in all, it was a really fun way to ring in 2013.

- But, from there, things went downhill quickly.

Yes, I had my brand new puppy to raise and be in love with, but come February, I did something really stupid. I engaged in my first one and done sexual encounter starring the aforementioned ex high school love interest. Totally my doing and my conscious decision, and so, so dumb of me. It, combined with other outside factors, created the perfect storm and quickly sent me into a very dark place, solidifying what I had always known to be true: I am not built for casual P in V. I thought I could be cool and hang with all the other casual sexers, but no. I will most likely forever be the loser sitting at the Monogamists Only table in the proverbial high school cafeteria for the rest of my days. You guys can come sit with me! It'll be fun, I promise! Makeouts and touching is what we're all about over here and we go off-campus for Chipotle at least once a week!

- However, I also started my new job in February, so that was sort of a weird counterbalance situation.

After two jobs and three years in the sales arena, I realized if I didn't figure out how to write for a living and soon, I was going to actually implode and maybe become one of those nuts you see walking around city streets talking out loud to themselves. So, with the help from many to build the world's most incredible cover letter known to man, I began applying to ad agencies and somehow got hired to the very first one where I interviewed. I knew that when my now boss's first words to me were "I LOVE your blog" that this is where I needed to be. And be here I have been for almost a year now.

- In April, I turned 26 and I didn't like it.

I mean, you more sensitive girls will understand that when the wrong P goes into your V, it can have long-lasting emotional side effects. I got a new dress for my birthday, one that accentuated my boobs and everything (unheard of in my wardrobe - I personally dig the "you'll never guess what I'm hiding under all this material" look), but not one ounce of me was interested in celebrating. I called the daytime celebration short and ended up having an impromptu girl's dinner and that was enough to satiate my day of birth appetite.

- My best friend, the one I refer to as my oracle, got married in late April.

That was a beautiful milestone and a nice, substantial distraction from the inner, overly dramatic turmoil I was dealing with on a daily basis. When her day came around, it was time to buck up and act like the Maid of Honor she expected me to be. Flowers, makeup, dresses, happiness, dancing - it was a gorgeous time and a wonderful moment to be apart of.

- Then, by June, that dark cloud started lifting a bit.

I felt as though I was coming out of this odd quarter-life, I-boned-a-guy-one-time-only-and-it-made-me-feel-like-shit crisis and was regaining some serious pep in my step. I was my flirty self again. I forced an ex-worker to finally makeout with me just so we could say we did it. I even scored a date with a popular local DJ who I thought to be soooo cool from afar. He wanted to take ME to dinner? Well, hot damn! Wait, what? What do you mean he's sober? He doesn't drink? What do you mean? As in never drinks any alcohol ever? Not even one glass of something to unwind? So I have to sit through this first date completely stone cold fucking sober? Is this a hidden camera show? Do you think he can smell the pre-date whiskey I drank while getting ready? OMG if being sober for a first date is wrong I don't ever wanna be right, EVER! Oh but we're gonna have one of the most epic, sober, high school-heavy makeout sessions that should be written about in history books? Well... ok. I'll take it.

- That was incredibly short-lived, as one could imagine. But shortly thereafter, I met the red delicious eating, no cuming ex I've written about now several times here on the ol' blog.

And that sucked. Well, it didn't suck at first. It was amazing at first, as are most courtships. But then we broke up. And although it wasn't what I would call any sort of intense love affair, it still hurt. A lot. And, as the universe would have it, right when I started thinking back on the entire situation a few weeks ago (because I like to emotionally cut myself like that), I saw him out for the first time since August. And we talked. Like, about us. And what had happened there. And then proceeded to engage in an overly aggressive, closure makeout session. Have you ever had an aggressive, closure makeout session? You should try it sometime. There's a lot of pent up anger and sexuality that comes to the surface and by surface I mean each other's mouths. It's eye-opening. As he left my apartment that morning at 4am, I told him,"I'm glad this happened. Now I don't hate you as much."

- In October, My beautiful sister got married to her beautiful wife in beautiful Chicago and the ceremony was the most beautiful thing I've ever witnessed. Beautiful.

And, to make it even more gorgeous, I was lucky enough to be snapped mid-the ugliest ugly cry you've ever seen and right now, today, I'm going to debut that snapshot to you guys because, ya know what? It's okay to be absolutely, uncomfortably and heinously emotional sometimes, y'all:

One more time, zoomed in:

Just in case you were wondering, the answer is no. I did not hook up with anyone at my sister's wedding.

- Oh, I failed to mention that in betwixt all that hoopla, I dabbled in online dating for the first time in my young dating career.

Perhaps I failed to mention it because it was pretty terrible on all sorts of levels and I'd like to forget it ever happened. I went on a grand total of three dates (two with the same guy) that came about from said online dating and I just can't. Have you ever had to meet a guy at whatever restaurant or bar you've designated as the setting for the evening? It's terrible. Take the feeling of walking out of your apartment and down to the street to get picked up by a date (the anxiety, the nervous readjusting of imaginary wardrobe malfunctions, the few seconds you stand there and look around for their car, desperate to just fucking find it already and walk toward it when you know they're checking out your every everything, all the while trying to appear calm and collected and not sweaty) and multiply it by 26. The first time I was ever made to meet the dude at the place is the last time. Mark my words.

So all that has put me where I am now which is:

still single.

still ready to mingle.

still writing.

but wanting to write even more in an even bigger way.

back at the gym, because as much fun as it can be to let yourself go for a year and have a built-in boob shelf, it's just as fun to not do those things.

moving out of the apartment in which I've lived for almost four years and into an adorable duplex, next door to an adorable friend.

and still full of hope for the future.

Things are always happening. They could happen in a minute, a day, a month, or throughout the course of an entire year. You just have to be open to the possibilities. And also be armed and ready to look at even the worst of situations as a story. Using experiences to your advantage is completely up to your discretion. All I know is this: when you dwell in the past and use hardships you've endured as crutches, you're not doing the future you any favors. And no one's really ever gotten anywhere by sitting on their ass and complaining (although sometimes it feels sooooooooooo good to do that, maybe even twice in one week).

So going into 2014, I set you free to not care what anyone else thinks, to do whatever the whatever it is you want to do, to date who you want to date but be honest with yourself as to why you're dating them, to act impulsively when appropriate (i.e. not with drugs or anything, but moreso like making the first move as a girl if you feel it). And always ALWAYS keep in mind that, although Drake mutated the saying into a sarcastic punch line, you really only do live once. So quit your job if you hate it. Go for the dream job you don't think you could ever get. Actually save money instead of continuously blowing it off like you have for 5 years. Move apartments. Move cities. Move states. Kiss the guy on the first date and make it count. Don't stay with him or her if you know deep down that he or she isn't your soulmate. And invest in some eyebrow filler because it bumps your face up from an 8 to a 10.