How I Got Here

This week, twelve years ago, I was a senior in college. A friend of mine from high school came down from Smith to my college for the weekend and we went to a free Wycliff Jean concert sponsored by my school. Afterwards we went to another friend's dorm room and did Thin Mint shots (peppermint schnapps and chocolate syrup). I was thinking about breaking up with my on-again, off-again boyfriend, again.

This week, ten years ago, I was living in California, working at a job I hated and taking pottery and ballroom dance classes. I played badminton for exercise. I was single and went to happy hour with my girlfriend every Friday night.

This week nine years ago, I was living in China and baked a boxed yellow cake with canned chocolate frosting that I had brought with me all the way from the US. My apartment didn't have an oven, so I baked it in a borrowed toaster oven. It turned out terribly, but I ate it anyway.

This week, seven years ago, I was living in Washington DC with a roommate and nursing a broken heart. My boyfriend, the one I thought I had a future with, had just dumped me while we were on vacation in Boston. I worked all the time, often traveling more than three weeks a month, and had just started grad school at night.

This week, five years ago, my dad died. I had just finished grad school and gotten engaged. I was shell shocked from so many life changes occurring at once.

This week three years ago, I was vacationing in beautiful Quebec. I had just gotten married and started a little blog.

This week two years ago, I took a little trip to Chicago. I was dreaming of moving to Wicker Park and reconsidering my position on never having kids.

This week, this year, I'm eating Ethiopian food and going yurt camping in Maryland with my husband and five and a half month old baby. Today, I turn 33 and (in both a good way and a bad way) I still can't really believe this is my life.