25/14

 
 It all started with a party. The first I'd ever had. I remember spending the entire day cleaning the basement and worrying that no one would show up. Within the hour there were more people in my basement than I could count. That night I drank and danced and shot the shit with a group of people I had barely known a year earlier. The clock reached zero, ball dropped, and everyone cheered. Not a bad way to spend the first moment of the year.

Two days later I was 25. I remember thinking about how I didn't feel any different. Just another year of being caught in that limbo of being either too young or too old for everyone else's liking. Still, despite having most of my friends forget or bail, I managed to use the occasion to drink and dance the night away. Then January 4th came along, and the year officially started for me.

Waiting. Waiting. More and more waiting. From January to March, there was nothing but waiting. And then one day the phone rings, and someone tells me I'm the new Associate Producer. I say thank you and hang up. My stomach drops. The next 3 months are a whirlwind. I struggle and thrive. I prove to myself I can do it, which is what's important, I suppose.

How about spending a couple weeks in June out in L.A. to get a feel for the place? Don't mind if I do. At least that's what I was thinking. 2 days in L.A. and I find myself in an office surrounded by producers who are firing questions at me. All I can think about is what I was wearing. Smiles and nods and a "we'll call you in a few days" and I'm out the door. 2 days after that and I'm working my first job in California. On a beach. I wonder what will happen in the next 2 days? Also, I wonder if I should've asked the tour guide for her number?

And then it happened. After 3+ years of feeling cold, trapped, and hopeless for any kind of future, I suddenly found myself with a California mailing address. There are some days where it still doesn't feel real. 

I've never really been one who likes to look back and sum up an entire year. Good shit and bad shit happen all of the time, no matter what the date is. But I'd be remiss if I didn't look back and see this year for what it was. Over the last 365 days I've made strides that I weren't sure were possible. I've felt joy and anxiety. Jump in excitement and screamed in rage. I was afraid. I cried. I fell in love again. I did enough to say, in the most unintentionally ironic way possible, this year was my year. And for the first time ever, I'm excited for what's to come.