Last year at this time I can remember the uneasy feeling that resided inside my stomach. The feeling that everything I knew would soon be over. I had just quit Dairy Queen (which made for some good journal entries) and had found a new job in the loving embrace of the local grocery store, which, as much as I tried to stop it, swallowed me into the unforgiving subculture that is Shoprite. My life was dreary. Cold, bleak nights kept me in the house way too much while my mother's incessant bitching reverberated in my ears. School was lagging, I was failing pre-calculus, and my English teacher was insane. The days were grinding together and I wondered if I would ever really graduate. Just beyond my line of vision there was college, taunting me with letters of how I had to apply for scholarships and housing and leadership clubs and travel abroad opportunities. South Carolina was a place that didn't yet exist, where people walked around in overalls and hay between their teeth. Yet before I got there, I had to hurdle past such memorable high school events like prom and senior cut day, both of which are highly over rated.

Then came summer.

Then came the abrupt end to it all, the one time in my life when I was completely unsure about everything and how I would manage. I thought I might actually die, and I went into things a little too trusting and spent a little too much time worrying about the frizzing of my hair. But I learned. This year was full of learning. How get through an airport, how to ask for a raise at work, how to play football, how to read people. And now, after thinking I would never get through any of it, I am back in my family room in New Jersey listening to familiar songs and refelcting on this year with the curious wisdom of a five year old. I think I'm smart, that I have it all together, but I really don't, and I'm okay with that. This was the year I learned that no matter how hard you plan things, something always comes along to fuck it up. You change your mind. You lose interest. People who you thought were your friends couldn't give a lesser damn about you. Suddenly you don't have the money or the patience or whatever it is you thought you'd always have. It's ok to not know what career to choose, to not have a boyfriend, to have curly hair. It's ok to think that whatever story is on the local news is a crock of bullshit. It's fine to not put up with people's crap and to speak your mind even though no one wants to hear what you have to say and are quick to label you a bitch just because you don't go along with their shallow selfish urges. Whatever.