Retrospect Ain't Just 20/20.

A new year. Twenty Thirteen.

Jeez.

Going into a new year feels good, to be leaving Twenty Twelve. 

Now that was a year of change. I remember last New Years, after having a shit night with the F, and not looking forward to closing the doors on that little shop by overlooking the ocean. Moving rapidly towards a a time of uncertainty, stagnation and unhappiness. 

In Twenty Twelve, for the better part of the beginning of the year, I was sad. Oh so sad.

Unhappy in my home, with friends who didn't quite understand, and who were already distant as a result.

Making decisions that didn't help the situation..

In Twenty Twelve, I got that kind of job I'd been wanting for a long time; the one with room to grow, with paid time off (which I still have yet to use, but whatever). In Twenty Twelve, I stopped being Token Single Girl, a title which fit neatly into my little beachside package of a life. I stopped being my Ex's crazy Ex. I stopped being a permanent fixture on patio's and porches in that Tiny Town I loved so much, but knew I had outgrown.

In Twenty Twelve, I lost friends. I still mourn the loss of those girls I love so much from my life, but change begets more change I guess, and when you no longer fit the title your friends think you deserve, whether it be 'Drinking Buddy' or 'Best Friend' or 'Charity Case', friendships are bound to be effected by it. I miss those friends, every day, and have them hidden from my newsfeed for the most part, so I don't look and feel left out, or figure out when they've lied about being 'out of town' even though we both knew that lying about being 'out of town' was what both of us wanted.

So, that's been a big change. A sad change.

But this year has also forced me to take a good look at what friends I have kept, no matter how far away or how close they live.
The ones who truly celebrate the victories and are support in the defeats. Whose pace of life allows for fluidity and change. 

And, in Twenty Twelve, I met Jim. 

Enough said.

Well, these were a hit.

In Twenty Twelve, I felt more connected to my family than I have in many many years.
My family as a whole. I feel less like the Forgotten Oldest Sister and more a part of the unit as a whole.
And, perhaps that comes from a better all around sense of 'wholeness' in myself. 

And so to end Twenty Twelve , we - Jim & I - had our party; and it was lovely. And, those who trekked all the way out to the inland suburbs of Orange County, those are my friends. Our friends. Come to the end of Twenty Twelve.

Bijou, who rarely has time to escape the back & forth from her house to her PR House, was one of the first ones through to door, with her sandy haired boyfriend in tow. In her perfect cornflower blue knee length coat, and bright red lips, she toured my new house. She, who was the first in the door way back when I moved into my Tiny Room with a Kitchen Attached in Twenty Ten, was touring my couch and my bathtub and my life with the boy, and I was happy. 
And I expect that she and I will be friends well past Twenty Twenty.

She also had the coolest handbag, of course.
A true Carpenter's Bag, structured and perfect. 

And I had all the fixings for our fete; because I decided long ago that when throwing a party, or doing anything really, if I'm going to stress, it's going to be the things I can control: the table's spread, the handmade swizzle sticks. I can control the cupcakes but I cannot make people eat them. I can try to give people something talk about a la kicky conversation cards by Chuck Klosterman laying casually on the coffee table, or holographic glasses strewn about the house courtesy of Kate Spade, or by even labeling the cheeses with their name and what type of cheese it is - Moo! Baaa! - but I cannot control whether or not people actually converse. You can bring a horse to water and all that jazz.

So that's what I focused on - on food, music, ambiance, conversation starters. 

And I think it was a success. I had fun.

So much change fit into one year. But I guess that's been every year since the big break up of Twenty Ten. 

After five years of complacency, it was bound to be a couple of years of ups and of downs.

At the start of Twenty Twelve, I had no where to go but up.

Now, come Twenty Thirteen, I'm on top of the world.

I'm going to turn Thirty One in Twenty Thirteen. Coincidence? 

I think not. Just math. 

But still. 

And I'm glad Jim's turning 31 a little before me, it'll make it easier when my birthday rolls around.

Happy New Year, everyone. 
Happy Twenty Thirteen.