23 January 2001

The EAK year in review
(or, our heroine gets reflective on her birthday)

Two years ago, around this time, I wrote a whingy rant about how I didn't like turning 26-- about how the age seemed to be some sort of bizarre cusp. Not really grown up, but not really young anymore either.

Today, I turned 28. And, strangely and oddly enough, I am starting to feel like a grown-up on occasion. I think I'm actually pretty happy with 28. I feel 28, and, fortunately, everyone at my work still thinks I look like a 22 year old
co-op student. I have an inkling that this has more to do with my 'funky' (read 'juvenile') clothing choices, penchant for hipster footwear, and slangy vocab, but I don't mind either way.

I don't know quite what to think when I try to compare myself to the Lyz who wrote the rant two years ago. I live in the same city, even in the same stupid attic apartment, but my world view has changed significantly. A lot of that has to do with money and maturity. And even more of that has to do with love.

A year ago today, I returned, hung-over, from a debauched night in Montreal wherein I consumed at least seven or eight tequila shots. Upon returning to Ottawa, I dragged a few friends off to the Manx (my bar) for dinner, where I spent the night in a haze, ogling the boy singer who plays there every Sunday. Look, I even went home and wrote a poem about him:

23 January 2000

Hey boy singer up at the bar--
you played that Costello tune that makes me wet
Yeah, I'm that front-row fake redhead.
Maybe I look better in this dim bar light?

Because I sure look dull under fluorescents.
Those half-moons under my grey eyes
are the direct results of tequila shots.

(On the bright side I can feel my toes again
after wearing tall platform boots
for twenty-four strange hours in Montreal.)

Hey boy singer, it's my birthday.
Twenty-seven now going on seventeen.
Yeah, I want your earring in my mouth,
And that damn wedding band off your finger.

At any rate, I think you can get the idea of what my life was like. And you know, it wasn't a bad life. I was happy, friendly, and silly. But when I think of that evening, I wouldn't want to go back now. So much has changed in a pleasant way since then.

To start with, in February of 2000, I was lucky enough to pay off my student loan, and free myself from debt. It felt very liberating, and I was happy to buy everyone drinks afterwards. I've been very lucky with money since that date, but I also learnt that money didn't change everything. Especially when I found out in April that my grandfather-- a cantankerous yet kindly jazz playing German immigrant from Gary, Indiana -- had passed away. No amount of money I made could change that.

The rest of the spring of 2000 passed in a bit of a blur. I went home for a while, spent a few days on the coast with friends, and then returned to Ottawa, worried to death about being transferred to my new job, at a larger corporation. ( In the fall of 1999, my small hightech company, where I was the webmaster, was acquired. ) And, on May 1st, 2000, I started a new job, with a huge web team. I thought I would hate it. But, I've been pleasantly surprised. I still don't think that high tech work is particularly fulfilling, but I've certainly learnt this year that working with good, friendly people can make all the difference.

The spring of 2000 also saw something extraordinary happen to little old me….I started getting to know someone who was unlike any other boy in the universe. We re-discovered each other through long, handwritten letters, and mix tapes rife with secret messages. I spent the summer in a permanent swoon, dying to meet the boy who could make my heart melt with his handwriting. (And, if I sound cheesy here, please forgive me. But, there's a reason why love songs tend to be so gushy..and it's because if you meet the right person you can actually feel that way, as I've discovered.)

And, in September we finally met. I tend to be oblique about this story on my website, but just so you know, I had some of the most extraordinary days of my life. When I returned home, I could hardly bear it.

Last fall was long. September came and went too quickly, and upon my return, I found myself swamped at work, and worried about my health. At the age of 27, I had two breast biopsies, and got to have an October full of anxiety because I didn't know quite what was going on. Fortunately, after six weeks of not knowing, I finally got the clear in November. No cancer for me. I've spent too far many hours of my life being angry at my body for not being a size 6, and let me tell you, the entire cancer-scare thing really put stuff into perspective. My extravagant hips don't really seem to be that much of a problem anymore.

December was fun- a nice time with my friends and co-workers here in Ottawa, a pleasant whirl of family and old friends at home over Christmas, plus new skates. And then, I got to see my sweetie again in New York City, for a few days spent wandering museums, inhaling the NYC scent of burnt toast together, and goofing off. Once again, I couldn't bear to leave.

And so now, it's my birthday again. Despite all that stuff I said about maturity earlier, to be honest, I'm scared to death of what's going to happen to me this year. I'm on the threshold of a big change, and this is a year in which I'm going to have to make some huge decisions about what I want out of my life. When I think of my age and my accomplishments I'm alternately depressed and exhilarated. I've been very lucky professionally over the past few years, but I still haven't written a novel. Or even a good short story recently. So, who know what will happen.

But, the fact of the matter is I think I'm finally ready to deal with the great unknown. And doesn't that make all of the difference?