Sadly in many get-back-togethers, Proust’s description is pretty much on the mark; there are weak moments when we can’t help but covet a shared body, that sense of closeness and comfort, the freedom from problems and reality - even if the object is completely inappropriate. What we forget, of course, is the reality will always win out, and the pleasure might ‘last only a few moments.’

In February it snowed. A lot.

In March I took a couples camping trip to Arkansas for a long weekend.

In June I was given a promotion at work, was transferred to a new department, got pulled over for driving drunk, was given a sobriety test and passed. My relationship of nearly three years ended, I moved out of Denton into my own apartment in Lewisville, befriended girls I work with, began to drink entirely too much alcohol, cried a lot, and took a trip to New Orleans with my mother.

In July I had one of the very best birthdays of my life.

In August I bought a new car.

In September I vacationed in New York city and honest to god met the man of my dreams.

In December one of my dearest friends got engaged and asked me to be a bridesmaid at her wedding.

The general consensus? I couldn’t be happier. Bring it on 2012.

Something must’ve bumped the moon into the earth and tilted it just a bit.. because what the hell is going on with so many Christmas engagements this year? It’s beginning - and suddenly I feel like I am both way too young.. and quickly growing old.