2007 was a rockin’ year. Perhaps the best one yet, though if that’s true, then first runner up has to be 1984, without which I would not be here. Second runner-up definitely goes to the year 2000 for being the year I got my braces off AND the year I got my first real kiss. I like to think the two are events are intrinsically related.
There is no third runner-up because nobody likes the third runner-up. She doesn’t even get any tiaras or flowers.
2007 can be categorized into two…categories: first and best. Not a bad way to categorize a year, if I do say so myself.
Shot of tequila taken without gagging afterward
Solo flying experience
Trip to Africa
Graduation from college
Big girl job
Night ever. You. Know.
Cocktail party ever thrown by me. People are still talking about it. At least, I’m still talking about it.
Abroad experience. I’ve never been so dirty and hot and happy simultaneously. In that way.
Landlord. He let us paint our walls crazy colors, light stuff on fire and gave us money. He was like an enormous Mormon 27 year-old Santa.
Birthday hello. I welcomed 22 with great friends and great wine. And went to bed at 11:00. And I liked it.
Birthday good-bye. I bid adieu to 22 and holla’ to 23 while wearing a Tweedle costume and dancing with a giant chipmunk and two wonderful friends at DisneyWorld. (Have I mentioned that I normally sit in an office and do respectable, grown-uppy things all day?)
Time spent with complete strangers. My senior broadcast capstone peeps were, for the most part, completely unknown to me at the beginning of 2007. By the end I had some great stories, could laugh about the most stressful and ridiculous undertaking I’ve ever been a part of (see here) and some lifelong friends who I plan to entangle in my escapades forevermore.
So here’s to you, 2007, for being the best year ever. May you wear your tiara proudly.
And put those flowers in some water, will you?