So That Was 22

Uneventful. Predictable. Boring.

Those are perhaps the last words I'd use to describe my 22nd year.

I... spent my last two months of college living la vida BEST EVER. Thought-provoking classes that had me rarin' to go out and do something in this world, spring afternoons spent lounging in fountains, chilly nights sipping wine, feet away from the most brilliant, passionate people I've ever met. It was the best way to end the best four years, and I knew it too - it was how I found myself bawling at the New Girl season finale screaming "BUT WHY DOES EVERYTHING GOOD HAVE TO END" as Cassandra gently patted my back saying, "New Girl will come back in like five months, okay?"

I... graduated from Stanford, although I still need to do something with my diploma like give it to my parents or hang it up. Currently, it's been used as both a mousepad and a coaster. Mom, you did not read that.

I... spent the summer roaming Europe, revisiting beloved cities like Oxford and London and Paris and Rome, making new memories in others like Florence and Venice and Naples and oh yeah, getting my whole perspective shifted in Croatia and Bosnia, and THEN the cherry on top – Greece.

I... came home with nary a plan. No apartment, no job, no idea what I wanted in a next step. A couple of months were spent digging my head deeper and deeper into the sand as I crashed on a friend's couch and desperately called every connection offered to me and went on interviews, intent on finding not any position but the right one, and dealt with the impending doom of finding an apartment in San Francisco. I spent quite a few full days in bed, snuggling with misery and uncertainty and self-doubt.

But then I watched as the puzzle pieces all came together and I first found an incredible apartment, then my self-confidence, and then a job that seemingly was a result of stars aligning. I forged forward, learning everything and anything I possibly could about my professional strengths and weaknesses, befriended coworkers, changed roles, grappled with the harder realities of a 9-to-5 (namely: the commute, a monotonous schedule M-F, no midday naps), and enjoyed the finer aspects too (such as: getting to be a part of something super exciting and rewarding, puppies in the office, y'know).

I... stood beside my sister as she married her best friend, and visited them and their handsome cats in Seattle. I've made my way down to LA to see my best friend who for the first time in four years, I'm not sharing a room and a day-to-day with. I flew to China to witness families coming together, to ground my roots as I like to do every now and then.
In the tail end of 22, when 22 felt more like 23 than anything, I found myself more mindful of the minutiae of my here and now. This is what I like. This is what I dislike. Here's what a value. I like my evenings to consist of these things. I need to have a glass of water by my bedside in order to hydrate properly. I like to get up an hour before I have to, just to get acquainted with the day. I like to adventure on the weekends and take it easy on weeknights. I'm a fan splurging on frequent lattes, but am a bit of a cheapskate when it comes to clothes. So on and so forth.
There we have it. 22. A roller coaster of a year if there ever was one, one that had many a loopdy-loop, 90 degree drops, one that flings you backward and forward, one that has you really proud you went on it and survived it but also 'ehhhh' when prompted about whether or not you'd go on it again.
And now, whatchu got for me, 23?!