At Christmas, little children sing and merry bells jingle.
The cold winter air makes our hands and faces tingle
And happy families go to church and cheerily they mingle
And the whole business is unbelievably dreadful if you’re single.

It makes me a little uncomfortable to relate too closely to Bridget Jones.  (I do relate, but that’s a level  of singleness that I’m not emotionally prepared to commit to at twenty-five.  Give me five more years.)  However, this is the real deal.  This is how the holiday season makes me feel sometimes.  And I love the holidays.

I know, without any doubt in my mind, that being in a relationship does not solve problems, nor will it make me a better, more complete human being.  In fact, I have spent the past many years establishing this fact with other single friends:  I am a complete, wonderful person.  I am not looking for someone to complete me.  I am looking for someone to complement me.

I know that I do not need another human being.  I have a lot of other people in my life, all of whom are marvelous and loved beyond even my comprehension.  And somehow, miraculously, they love me, too, and that is the best thing.

I know that I do not like holiday or over-the-top proposals or greeting cards or romantic comedies (with few exceptions, most notably being Bridget Jones and When Harry Met Sally) or public displays of affection or Facebook statuses/wall posts about how amazing your significant other is.  I think it’s weird when boys remember the anniversary of the first time they ever saw you.  (Please remember and relive the moment forever and ever, but don’t remember the exact day and time.  That’s weird.  Save your brain space for important things.)  I don’t particularly believe in fairy tales, and just the phrase “treat like a princess” makes me nauseous.  As girly as this little sorority alumna is, I can’t handle mush.

I think I want a very specific, probably impossible to find kind of love.  But here’s some more things I know:  I am an optimist.  My parents will tell you, maybe with some level of concern, that I am super Type A and a perfectionist.  My best girlfriends will proudly tell you that I refuse to settle.  My bosses will tell you that I am relentless in pursuit of goals.  And I’ll tell y’all this:  2011 was my second least favorite year so far, so 2012 will be my year.

And I’m going to get what I want.

PS:  The title comes from Bridget Jones’s Diary, too, of course:  “So glad decided to be festive Home Alone Singleton like Princess Diana.”

I typically suffer from a bit of residual homesickness after I’m back at MY home after a holiday.  Also, last week was my first full week back in the office since August, so I was little apprehensive about returning to the office environment.  I’m so used to making my own schedule during travel season; readjusting is always a little bit tricky.  Anyway, needless to say, I was NOT expecting last week to be spectacular.

And again, I was wrong.  I’m wrong a lot.

Early in the week, I had lunch with an old friend.  He was one of my closest friends when I first moved out here; I have missed him so much since he left, but it was wonderful to sit and talk and laugh with him and some of our mutual friends.  It felt exactly like every other lunch we’d ever had.  I’m thankful that nothing feels like it’s changed — a few more miles between our houses but not much else besides that.

In other news, some of my friends formed a band about a year and a half ago, and their first album came out last week.  When I talk about them and how talented they are, I think people think I’m just saying that because I know them, but the truth is that I would love them just as much if I didn’t know them.  They’re that good.  Naturally, I am obsessively, crazily proud of the boys — so proud, in fact, that when I first heard the finished album, I cried at my desk at work. I am not even remotely embarrassed to admit that.

And the very best news:  A sweet former coworker of mine and her husband welcomed their second baby boy into the world on Saturday.  He is healthy and precious and beautiful, and I am just delighted for their whole family.  And if things can’t get any better, there’s this:  One of my very best friends and her husband are expecting their first child this summer.  She and her husband are going to be amazing parents; their baby is already so lucky to have them as his or hers.

Hearing my best friend tell me such beautiful news was probably the best moment of last week, which is saying something.  I started crying as soon as she said it, of course.  That’s been a theme this week:  being happy to the point of tears.  With happiness, I think there’s a point where you can’t do anything but cry.  It’s past happy, past ecstatic, past giddy, past joyful, past all of that; you’re just overjoyed, and there’s nothing else in the world you can do but laugh and cry at the same time.  But, as Truvy from Steel Magnolias says, “Laughter through tears is my favorite emotion.”

This travel season has been longer than usual, but I’ve enjoyed being out on the road.  When I think about each of my job responsibilities — traveling, reviewing applications, planning events, working with tour guides, etc. — I think about how fortunate I am to have a job I love so much and so completely.  But travel, although exhausting, has to be pretty high up there.

I feel like I’ve lost a lot this year, but I’m overwhelmed by how much I’ve gained this year.  I have a great group of friends with whom I travel.  These are friendships I cherish.  They understand the demands of this job and are full of professional advice, but more importantly, they are outstanding people and friends.

When I first took my job, I had a very close knit group of coworkers whom I adored.  During my first year at this job, I met one of my best friends working in that office; this best friend ultimately introduced me to some of my other darling friends, and I am thankful.  After my incredibly, um, challenging first year out of college, it was a relief to have a happy, fun-filled year with people I adored.

It didn’t last, as y’all know, and I inherited a different group of coworkers.  Don’t get me wrong:  I love this group of people, but when you get to work with your best friend, nothing will compare — even when you have great coworkers.  I got ridiculously spoiled during my first year, and two years later, I still miss those friendships.  But for everything I thought I’ve lost (or misplaced, really, because I am still friends with these people), I have gained with my road friends.

Can someone remind me of this when I start being whiny and ungrateful again?

Since I took over Tennessee as my travel territory, I have been fortunate to meet some amazing people.  As tired as we all are after being up super early and going all day, it’s hard to say no when there’s a group going to dinner or hanging out after the college fair.  (Don’t get me wrong:  I’m not one of the buckwild counselors by any means — I go to bed relatively early in comparison to the wilder ones. — but you can’t go back to the hotel and watch TV every night.)  I’m so grateful to have these relationships in my life; it’s comforting to be able to share our funny stories and frustrations with one another and to vent about things back home without fear of judgment.  I’ve been doing this job for four years now, and I can honestly say that this has been the most fun travel season yet.

In other news, I have a roommate now!  One of my sorority sisters from college has moved to beautiful Southwest Virginia, and she’s living in the second bedroom.  I was slightly (Okay, WAY) apprehensive about having a roommate again because I’m very Type A/OCD and a relatively private person; as much as I enjoy my friends, I also love being able to go home and be alone after being around so many people all day, every day.  Things are going well, though, so I’m a happy camper.

The past few months have been a little bit exhausting but a lot of fun, too.  Travel season has been such a relief after how emotionally challenging the earlier part of this year was, and I really appreciate smiling and laughing more often than not.  But enough about me — how are y’all?

I don’t mean to say that I don’t consider myself to be lucky, to be blessed, to have the best family and friends ever.  I live a very fortunate life filled with wonderful people whom I love dearly, but you won’t catch me updating my Facebook status to share this with everyone I know.  Not only is that not my style, if one of your friends is struggling with something in his/her life, it makes him/her feel worse.  When you’re having a bad day and feeling less than blessed, the most obnoxious thing you can see or hear is someone talking about how perfect her life is.  Talk about rubbing salt in the wound.

ANYWAY.

When I moved to Virginia, I met some lovely people.  I never expected to have a huge circle of friends or to have as much fun as I did, but I was wrong.  (And I am so glad to have been wrong.)

I realized last night that I am lucky to have these people — not only because they have been some of the best friends I have ever had but because they are all such good people.  They are smart and funny and talented and charming and kind and ambitious and flawed and wonderful, and I love them.  I am unbelievably proud of everything they have accomplished and everything they will accomplish.  When people ask me about how one of them is doing, I can’t help gushing.

And then I realized that it’s not just the people I’ve met here, it’s almost every person I consider to be my friend.  That’s quite a few people.  I’m certain that everyone feels this way about his or her friends, and I hope, more than almost anything in the world, that I never take them for granted.

If we’re only as good as the company we keep, I’m in good shape.

And I always worry.  And it always comes right back to me.  It’s like riding a bike!  The information never leaves your head.  In fact, because you’ve been doing this for so long, you have personal anecdotes to share about students you’ve met and worked with.  Blessedly, the answers just come to you; sometimes, they even surprise you.  Like, maybe if you had to write an answer to the question (application essay-style), you would answer differently, but in that moment, the perfect answer just comes out.

Last night was so busy and so fun.  I didn’t even realize that it was time to go until I looked around between students visiting my table and realized there were, like, four families there.  That’s the best kind of night.

I’ve been needing reaffirmation that this is what I need to be doing with my life right now.  This year has been difficult for me personally, not professionally, but difficult times always lead you to question every aspect of your life.  Last night was the reminder I needed.  Last night was why I’ve been doing this for almost four years now.

Bring it on, 2011 – 2012 school year.

But after moving comes nesting, the settling in process of making your new home yours, and learning your new home.  And that’s what I’m doing:  nesting, repurposing, and learning to appreciate having cows as neighbors.

And really, y’all?  It feels good to be home.

This year all but disappeared.
Bought into fairy tales,
But Sleeping Beauty just kept score
And tried to sleep more.
- Matt Nathanson, “Kiss Quick”

I feel a little bit like Matt Nathanson’s Sleeping Beauty right now.  Two years ago (to the day), I moved out here as the end result of the most emotionally exhausting six months of my life.  I spent the first few months either traveling for work or trying to pretend that this wasn’t my life.  On the rare occasion that I actually caught myself liking this place, I was grateful for more than the stability of my job.  And then I had a little come to Jesus with myself and spent the rest of my first year here head-over-heels in love with my life, incredibly grateful for the people I’d met here, and praying that things wouldn’t change.

Of course things changed.  The first half of my second year was okay.  I kept myself busy and begged and pleaded for things to return to normal.  And they didn’t.  But things are still good, despite the fact that I find myself missing the first year so much and in awe that it’s been another year.  Very few good or funny or memorable things stick out about this year; I think the bad caught up to me in this year, but I am hopeful (as always) that this next year will be as good as the first.  Maybe my new apartment will bring me some welcome, positive change.

Bring it on, 2011 – 2012.  Please be good to me.

This apartment has been good to me.  I’m the only person who has ever lived in my apartment, which definitely has its advantages.  It’s the perfect amount of space for me and all my belongings, and I have a washer and dryer in my apartment.  Honestly, the convenience of washing my clothes in the privacy of my own home is worth the price of rent.

However, while I am the only person who has ever lived in my apartment, the same is not true of my neighbors.  I have lost count of how many neighbors I’ve had in the past two years.  Each set is progressively more obnoxious, too.  I’m currently sandwiched between a nosy couple who spend the majority of their evening talking loudly on their cell phones outside of my apartment and a new person who blocked eighty percent of this building’s inhabitants from getting home.  Let’s not forget the upstairs neighbors, either.  I can hear every word of every conversation held in the upstairs apartment, and I can tell you exactly where he is in his apartment if we’re home at the same time.

I am very clearly ready for a little more peace and quiet.  Instead of having a constant revolving door of new neighbors, I am ready to be the new neighbor.  I am ready to have more than one closet.  I am ready to have a bedroom door.  I am ready to have counter space.  I am so ready.

My new landlord is letting me move in pretty much whenever I want, and my current lease is up about a week into July.  I have about two weeks to move and restore my old apartment to its original splendor — can’t beat that timing.  Obviously, I am going to be moving as soon as I can, but I’m grateful that I can take my time.  I took measurements today, and I fully plan on taking the first load of stuff over tomorrow.  I can’t wait!

After all the anxiety and stress of finding a new place, I couldn’t be happier to know where my new home is.  I’m not quite there yet, but I’m definitely homeward bound, and that’s the best news I’ve gotten this month.

1.  Please save your passive-aggressive family drama, overabundant and pointless hashtags, promotion for your boyfriend/girlfriend/best friend’s fledgling musical career, incendiary political propaganda, and painfully obvious attempts at being artsy with Instagram off my Twitter feed.  I am really only on Twitter to keep up with my siblings, college friends, college alumni association, the national headquarters of my beloved sorority, PBS, and a handful of celebrities I truly enjoy.  Martha Stewart may tweet a thousand times in a row, but she packs her tweets with important knowledge and the occasional chance to win a blender.  That’s why I’m there.

2.  I got a follow request from one of the contestants on this season of Food Network Star, and I almost died.  Y’all don’t even know.  Food Network Star is my American Idol.  I couldn’t tell you the name of a single Idol contestant this past season, but I can definitely tell you that Mary Beth Albright and I are following each other.  Also, this is important:  The day Penny gets a show on Food Network is the day I break up with Food Network forever.

3.  Very seriously, if you are an avid Four Square user, please set your account to private.  Safety is no joke, y’all.