In February I found the perfect red cowboy boots I'd been searching for and ridiculously wore them everywhere. I dyed my hair dark brown for fun and spent rainy days baking and knitting. A couple sweet friends surprised me at midnight on my birthday with wine and chocolate cake and I spent the next week eating treats because it was still my birthday week. I got my first tattoo, went on sweet dates with sweet boys and wore my power suit on fun assignments. I also went on fancy all-expenses-paid trip to Sacramento to lobby against some of California's scariest Republican reps.
In March I took a solo trip north to visit S in Fresno for some much needed heart to heart time. A trip wouldn't have been successful without a visit to Berkeley for coffee dates and co-op parties.
In April I held a grown man in my arms while he cried and after stood on a mountain with him and talked about how it's okay to be angry sometimes. I crashed my car into another car (don't worry, it was my dad's and he was only a little mad) and accidentally rolled down a hill at 2am that same night.
In May I celebrated a year since my third heart surgery. I made preparations to move to Berkeley for the summer and got really distracted from school when my friends came home. I started training for a half marathon the Parisians signed on for together.
In June I spent afternoons in parks with iced tea/coffee and good books. Best friend and I packed up my little car and made the long night drive to Berkeley, complete with a spontaneous glow stick party on the highway to start off a summer that was filled with Katy Perry duets. I went to a concert festival where I was totally spoiled by strangers' kindness, wandered around in an intoxicated stupor and found contention in my lack of showering. I started summer school, went to yoga everyday and went to concerts in record stores.
In July I continued to intern for a politician and reaped the benefits of free donuts. I walked everywhere in the Bay area and met up with friends in Santa Cruz and San Francisco. I celebrated Independence with A and D and had shady encounters late at night.
In August we celebrated best friend's birthday with a delicious coffee cake and a birthday party on the roof complete with late night/early morning McFlurries and "Dirty Harry." I moved home from Berkeley after school ended and spent every night out late with lovely people.
In September I had an incident with a good man friend and now we don't really talk much but I'm wiser now. I went to Berkeley again and finally went to a dance party like I had wanted all summer. I cooked delicious food for a house of people and watched boys pee on the sides of buildings.
In October I started an internship with Barbara Boxer and was harassed for being a liberal in a predominately conservative area. I met a childhood friend for the first time and it didn't work out but we still ate delicious food and managed some passive aggressive humor. I saw Arcade Fire in concert and fell in love. I ran and finished a half marathon and managed to make some people unhappy in doing so but life's not about living to please other people and ultimately my spirit soared so that's all that matters. I took long drives with my brother and found comfort in his forever-friendship. I spent Halloween dressed up like JFK while studying for a midterm.
In November I moved and moved again and got extra prepared for the holidays by eating cranberry sauce every day. I got held up and almost-attacked by a man at Little Cesars but laughed it off and spent the night LSAT studying and eating donuts. I went to a conference in Santa Barbara and danced under the stars. I became even better friends with some oldies and quoted Mean Girls way too much. My car caught on fire and I got stuck in elevator but it reminded me not to take anything too seriously.
In December I danced in the rain. I went on hikes and cooked with friends late at night. My heart hurt a little for missed opportunities. One week, I went to the movie theater four nights in a row. I went on day time adventures and felt guilty for relaxing my tired-from-finals brain. I had a scare and 911 came but one of the medics looked like Seth Rogan. I also had a really intense cough but I'm better now.
I began 2010 slightly jaded and no one should ever be. My motto for the year was "too young for morals" and though at the time, I meant that in sort of a self-destructive, "I don't give a shit" way, it became more about new experiences and taking risks. 2010, (holy goodness that sounds so futuristic! but so archaic) you were really good to me. I'll see you on the other side.