The year in review.

Winter.

I like to refer to this as the naive period. The part where I didn't see anything coming.

My world was stable. My friendships were solid. My job steady, my co-workers exceedingly enjoyable, and my accounts more fun to work on than I could have ever imagined.

For some reason, it never occurred to me that the floor was about to fall out from underneath me, which is shocking - particularly considering my serious inability to be an optimist at any juncture.

I greeted 2007 at Mike and Kyle's New Years party, complete with champagne, flip cup, Guitar Hero (II), and an infamous boxing match (with inflatable gloves) between myself and my then boss and current friend. There are reportedly pictures of this event somewhere, though I've never actually laid eyes on them.

Work continued, with no threat of chaos and sadness present. We were happy, we were carefree.

We were idiots.

January brought an ice storm of epically stupid proportion. Everything in the city was closed for days, including the office.

In what might be submitted as the first evidence of my mounting workaholism, I actually packed a bag and stayed downtown, so as to be able to walk into work while the office was closed. The nights were passed with way too much food from Katz's (the only thing open), wine, and general laughter.

My list of friends at work grew exponentially. I finally found my groove. I began to grow comfortable with client presentations. I drank way too much, but I had a lot of fun.

Valentine's Day was spent as a single in the literal sense. However, the evening itself was anything but lonely - I spent hours with 10 other girls, drinking obscene amounts of wine and champagne, eating an incredible dinner, and removing any sort of filter that I might have in the back of my mouth for the duration of the event.

Music:
Dropkick Murphys - Shipping Up To Boston; Upstarts & Broken Hearts
Jack Johnson - Banana Pancakes
Bloc Party - Blue Light (Engineers' 'Anti-Gravity' Remix)

Spring.

February gave way to March, which marks the beginning of spring in a climate that has difficulty distinguishing separate seasons, particularly since summer lasts for more than half the year.

March brought a trifecta of mayhem, all wrapped into one weekend. I lucked into a badge for SXSW, courtesy of a rep party raffle. Thus began a weekend which would punish my liver more than my 21st birthday ever did. Pete, Tim, and myself were inseparable, running together from venue to venue, bar to bar, restaurant to restaurant. I ached more than I can say by the end of those four or five days of madness.

Compounding the SXSW chaos was the fact that St. Patrick's Day fell on a Saturday in 2007 - to be exact, it fell on the Saturday of SXSW weekend. I was drunk by 11AM, and didn't stop at all that day... until I hit a wall and had to borrow Patrick's couch for a much-needed nap and recharge prior to hitting more shows that night.

March also brought about the beginning of perfection's crumble.

My then-boss and current friend turned in his notice. This was a huge reality check, as I went from working for someone whom I genuinely looked up to and admired to being in a state of flux. I expected this to resolve, I expected things to get better.

Instead, the flux continued. We lost one of the accounts that I worked on at the time. This was the beginning of the end, in hindsight, but I think that we all assumed it was an isolated incident. Between the reduction in workload and the departure of my boss, I was a study in misery. And boredom. But misery reigned supreme, unfortunately.

My birthday was a bright spot. Two close friends and I have birthdays within five days of each other, and we came together without plan at Cedar Street one Friday evening in May for more shots than we can remember, a debut on stage, and the vow to spend the next birthday together, no matter what happened over the next twelve months.

My rock-solid friendships began to crumble. At the time, it was devastating. In hindsight, it was a good thing. It forced me to step outside of my shell and seek new friendships and to strengthen those that weren't in danger of collapse.

Spring also brought two sessions of boot camp, an introduction to Crystal Death, a tubing trip that nearly caused death, and a hundred other poignant moments.

Music:
Jack's Mannequin - Holiday From Real (a'capella)
Remy Zero - Prophecy
Augustana - Sunday Best

Summer.

Summer was the beginning of the Flux Period. After months of work-induced misery, someone did something about it. In hindsight, I'm not sure if it was a positive or a negative at the end of the day.

But before I knew of the flux that I faced, I had the most magical Saturday night that I've ever had in Austin.

The evening started with a customer appreciate party at a co-worker's coffee shop. From there, a random group of six trekked toward Beauty Bar. On the walk to the bar, we happened to glance inside Grizzly Bar, noticing a projection screen playing Pretty In Pink and what was obviously an 80s dance party happening inside. We all agreed that it was worth checking out later.

Upon arrival at Beauty Bar, we found out that the DJ we'd come to see had just gone on a break and wouldn't be back on for at least another hour.

After a few shots, we all looked and each other and headed for the 80s dance party. We arrived, convinced the door guy to let us in for a substantially discounted price, and proceeded to drink liquor like it was water, dance like it was going out of style, and just let go of everything that was wrong, everything that was worrisome. It was a night without inhibition, of looking good on the dance floor, and of pure fun.

And then came the stress, just a few days later.

I was moved to a new team, a new account. When they told me, the day before the 4th of July, I slowly walked back to my desk, completely stunned. I told Pete that we needed to go get drinks immediately.

We took advantage of the early departure from work and headed to Wahoo's, where they were running a special from 5-6PM - drinks were the cost of the day's high temperature. In this instance, that made them 85 cents each.

We ran up a $45 bar tab before we left at 7.

Pete and I were slowly joined by the rest of our friends, until the crowd numbered in the twenties. I finally broke down, courtesy of too much tequila and a lot of stress, and bemoaned the account switch that I had been informed of earlier that day.

And suddenly, we were at a new bar. And I was drunk, and it was 11PM, and I was done. I'd been drinking for 8 hours, and I was beyond exhausted.

And somehow I found myself violating a pact I'd made with myself years prior. It set up a twisted, turbulent few months, but I don't care. It was fun, and it was eye-opening - and isn't that the result that we want every tentative step into the unknown to produce?

4th of July brought a car accident, albeit not in my car, and one of the hardest weeks I've ever had to see a friend sustain. I think that the light at the end of the tunnel is shining brightly now, but it was a long, arduous process that I know none of us care to revisit.

Pete left in late July.

I was moved to a new team, again, in late August. I was glad for the switch, welcoming the greatly increased responsibility and autonomy.

I moved from my apartment into a friend and co-worker's condo, navigating the tricky path of having a roommate for the first time in nearly five years. It was one of the best decisions I've ever made.

The temperatures held steady at "hot". ACL Fest came again, this time replete with provocations from men in skirts, exploding propane tanks, confusion over exactly which artist was performing a popular single, more confusion over whether a crowd that is essentially 99% white can raise fists for unity, the opportunity to see several amazing acts at after-shows, funny tan lines, and a thousand other memories.

It also brought about my introduction to a band that defined the fall, an incredible Old 97s concert, and the beginning of the end at work.

Music:
Muse - Starlight; Knights of Cydonia
Matt Nathanson - Weight Of It All
Ben Lee - Sex Without Love, American Television
Bloc Party - This Modern Love (Dave P & Adam Sparkles' Remix)

Fall.

Fall became the season of flux, but it was on my terms, upon my invitation.

It began with a trip to DC and Philadelphia that was both the hardest weekend in recent memory and more fun than I can recount in writing. There was Crystal Death, National Geographic, and football.

Work teetered on a shaky point, threatening to collapse at any moment. Still, we held on to the belief that we'd be OK, that major changes weren't looming, that life as we knew it would stay constant.

I headed to New York in October, truthfully scared to death that I couldn't handle the city, that I wouldn't fit, that I was doomed to suburbia forever.

I was (thankfully) very wrong.

I loved every minute that I spent there. Nothing went wrong, and everything went right. There were stereotypes and surprises. There was magic in the ordinary of a Sunday, a day spent doing everything I'd do in Austin, but better. There was navigation of the subway without a glitch or a personal guide. There were boxes and brunch and bars and cabs and heels and dresses and too many neighborhoods to count. I threw caution to the wind and stopped thinking.

And it was amazing.

I will never forget the feeling of walking down 33rd Street at night, iPod on, headphones in, drinking everything around me in.

October gave way to November. The month began with a weekend of volunteering for Race for the Cure.

I can now list "able to direct 15,000 people and 100 shuttle buses from remote parking to the race site, and vice versa, without incident" on my resume. It was a day of complete and utter exhaustion that began at 4 AM and ended with me attempting to sleep on a bench at Woodrow's at 5PM and a valiant fight to just stay awake until 8:30 PM (the apparently appropriate and acceptable bedtime).

I met Colby that weekend. He was unexpected. The way I felt around him was unexpected.

It's still a great feeling.

I made a whirlwind trip to Raleigh for work.

As November continued, good feelings and moments were unfortunately obliterated by the collapse of worlds at work.

Huge accounts were lost.

Conspiracy theories gave way to reality.

Friends and co-workers, second family members, were laid off over two days in mid-November. We cried. And we drank. And the agency descended upon the regular bar like locusts, driving out any who were not directly affiliated with the painful days, any who did not understand the numbness we felt.

Somehow, we picked up the pieces and began to move on.

Tim left for New York.

December crept in, the usual Christmas gifts and celebrations muted significantly by the chaos of November.

My boss, the one consistency in my work-related life over the past year and a half, turned in her notice.

Flux.

And I now find myself in a wait and see game.

I spent much of December waging an internal debate over what is more important, over which part of my life, which component of my future leads through the door of "if you do not do this, you will regret it forever."

It's been a time of prioritization, of realizing what is really important to me in the grand scheme. And of what, surprisingly, is not.

And so, I am waiting for the trigger to be pulled. To know the plan.

And what I do will probably surprise a lot of people, and not cause a raised eyebrow from others. But I am me, and I can only do what I know how to.

Music:
The National - All The Wine; Daughters of the Soho Riots
Matt Nathanson - Car Crash
Albert Hammond Jr. - Hard To Live In The City; Holiday
Jack's Mannequin - The Lights and Buzz
Regina Spektor - Fidelity
Plain White Ts - Hey There Delilah

And as always, there is a song of the year - one that has already been mentioned. One that carries so many feelings, associations, moments, and hopes that it's incredible that they can all be contained within a three minute musical moment.

The National - All The Wine

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January 1, 2008.

The day was spent lazily, with movies and football and food. It ended with the construction of a playlist and the burning of a CD, representative of the month that lies ahead and the decisions that will be made over the course of the next four weeks. It carries a tone of hope, with a few key songs that prevail over the mix as being of the utmost importance and significance.

Vanessa Carlton - Nolita Fairytale
Ingrid Michaelson - Far Away
Bloc Party - Waiting For The 7:18
Wolf Parade - I'll Believe In Anything