What I remember…
January:
I’d recently ended a tumultuous three-year relationship. I felt my ties to college, to Austin, were permanently severed. It was scary, but profoundly liberating. I felt like I could grow up now.
I was single and ready to mingle.
February:
I hate February. It’s an ugly word; the weather’s bad. But I lost hundreds of pounds of negativity. Grimspa, baby!
March:
To quote Dorothy Parker, “I shudder at the thought of men. I’m due to fall in love again.” I went on a lot of dates and stumbled upon some guy my age who was living in Long Island. His name was Cade. “What kind of name is that?” I brusquely asked the first time we spoke. We went on a date, but couldn’t find the theater or a good place to eat. He carried my bag, and I laughed a few times. Meh. I went on a second date, and he ate off my plate and apparently checked out my butt and decided he must have me.
He soon did.
I visited home and had mixed feelings about the trip at first, as my last memories of it involved ending things with the old boyfriend. It actually turned out to be relaxing and delicious. I also got a camera as an early birthday present.
April:
I started looking for a new job, as work was le suck. I had to sub constantly, and hated the feeling of powerlessness. I didn’t follow my own schedule or get to work doing what I know how to do.
Cade and I spent a beautiful day in Brooklyn amongst cherry blossoms. He tried to tell me he loved me multiple times, but finally felt comfortable enough back in my stuffy Morningside Heights apartment.
My mom got really ill all of a sudden and was diagnosed with a staph infection. It was horrible, because I only found out how ill she was after the fact. My dad hadn’t wanted to worry me.
May:
I turned 23. It didn’t feel special, but I don’t think birthdays do after the age of seven anyway.
I was searching and searching for a new job. And subbing and cursing and brewing contempt at the current one.
June:
I got really, really sick with some kind of crazy throat infection. I was sick almost a month, and had to go to the emergency room after having a bad reaction to a prescription antibiotic.
I was told I needed to move out of my apartment share by the primary renter, a woman I’ll never trust again. It was very hard to find an apartment in such a short amount of time, during most of which I’d been sick.
I found the cutest little CPW studio that you ever did see!
I got a new job. It was such a godsend. I found out I’d be working over the summer and I’d need to start graduate school stat. I was eustress-ing out.
On my last day at I.S. 666 (hooray!), I played “Damn, It Feels Good To Be A Gangsta” on my ipod at least three times.
July:
I moved. It was expensive and hot and invigorating.
I worked over the summer at the new school. The learning curve was steep, but I was dizzyingly optimistic.
After a routine check-up, I got scary news from my doctor. I might have cancerous cells taking up residence in my body. I scheduled an appointment for a biopsy and freaked out about the situation for days. Cade mentioned that I could change the name of my blog to “Amanda’s Cancerous Adventures” if need be, and probably get a lot of hits. That sounded cool.
Fortunately, my biopsy revealed that I was okay. (I have to get even more regular check-ups now).
August:
My dad visited me in NYC and helped spiff up the apartment.
I discovered upstate New York.
I nearly pooped my pants - or thought I might - at Central Park. In the end, though, I barfed publicly in front of Cade for the first (definitely not the last) time. It was a special moment.
September:
I started the new job and had to memorize 100 new names, faces, and predilections. (I’m still working on that last one). I also had to learn the ins and outs of a new area of education and get used to working with fifth graders. Many of my new co-workers, I slowly began to realize, were very smart, cool people.
October:
A grueling month at work. The principal micro-managed her way under my skin, sending a barrage of emails to my co-teacher and me, telling us all that we were doing wrong and all that needed to be changed pronto. I was overwhelmed and seriously doubting whether I was cut out for a job at a good school.
After a cold, reckless yachting weekend in Maryland, I got sick as a [sea]dog.
November:
Work was still overwhelming, and I was consequently unhappy. Cade was in the same hole-ridden boat as me. Our relationship began to suffer. I felt I might be losing The Big Three very shortly.
Cade and I managed to get away briefly for my first East Coast Thanksgiving. I’m now obsessed with whole berry cranberry sauce.
I began to eat only Kashi Strawberry Fields Organic Promise cereal. I stopped when two grocery stores in my area suddenly stopped stocking it. I relapsed when I discovered Wegman’s in Pennsylvania.
December:
O, darkness visible! I felt depressed and stressed with grad classes and lots of work to do in the test prep unit at school. Oh yeah, and my meandering, meaningless existence, too.
My relationship continued to vacillate between trying to stay afloat and drowning itself. Cade and I knew something needed to change.
I finished my grad classes and suddenly had time to do things like go to the post office and think. Things began to brighten.
I’m feeling better.
