the new year in eights

It must have been Friday night that I awoke in the dark, thought for some time, then finally went back to sleep. Whatever the moment it came to me, I had a big realization. The eights of my life have been life-changing years.

When I was eight years old, in third grade, I had transferred to public school from Catholic school. My wonderful teacher, with whom I still communicate, helped instill in me a deep love of reading and writing. I read the Hobbit for the first time. I first pondered the existential question "Why" and experienced my first depression.

When I was 18 I visited Portland for the first time, where I skied my first west coast (ie real) mountain, met a beautiful German boy, and experienced the best of the city with my dear friend Grace. I went on a magical spring break trip to San Francisco which included the Peacock Suite at the Red Victorian, a near-death experience riding horses at Half Moon Bay, and Big Sur. I took a trip across the country by answering a newspaper want ad, lived in an abandoned bed-sit in Haight-Ashbury for two weeks, took the Greyhound to Salt Lake City to try to pursue a connection, Greyhounded on to Chicago where wonderful Julie welcomed me home, Greyhounded again down to visit a high school sweetheart in the Great Smokies of Tennessee, decided to study abroad the next year, and finally, met my future husband.

I can think of no two years more formative to my self. And so I am finally excited for this year, for 2007.