Bananas

This last year has been bananas (that is spelled b.a.n.a.n.a.s if you were unaware).

Yes, it's that time of the year again to reminisce on the past 365 days. Because I have no patience for writing about myself at length, and no one has the patience to read it, I'll comb through this past year in a brief timeline. (It has pictures so you won't get bored!)

1. New Years Eve 2009. Decorating the apartment for the huge blowout party. Isaac singing acapella. Sock hop at Hotel Frank.

2. New Years Day 2010. Waking up with half of my friends passed out on my floor. Chamapgne bottles everywhere. Breakfast at the diner. Brief encounter with a gal I hadn't seen since high school.

3. January 4. Decided on a whim to drive to Chicago with Niemann. Then decided on a whim to drive from Chicago to New Orleans in a blizzard with Richeff, Quin and Ed. Best. Road trip. Ever. Ricky's driving skills saved our lives. And Elvis saved our sanity.

3. Last semester of college. Editor in chief of the paper. Nervous about my last few newspapers. Decided not to go to grad school.

4. Mom's car accident. Her beautiful bug destroyed. RIP.

5. George got married. I was there. In a dress. And makeup. Got drunk with his parents. The cops came because we were partying too hard. Holla.

6. I finished the last issue of the Creightonian. And around this time came up with the crazy idea to turn the Men in Black series into a book (which is still on the way).

7. I graduated. And I survived Fr. Harmless' History of the Christian Church. And I decided to continue my education or look for a job. I thin it was around this time when Fr. Doll first ran into me eating pizza in the newsroom and said something to the effect of, "Are going to get a job when you graduate? Have you ever been to Bangkok?" I didn't pay attention and went on eating my pizza. I mean, where is Bangkok anyway?!

8. I went on a 4,000 mile road trip with mom. Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Niagra Falls. Cape Cod. Broadway. D.C.

9. Route 66. Ricky Cheffer, other than being my best friend, is a road warrior. He wrote his final history paper about Route 66 and then saw it for himself. Missouri to California by highway. We camped in a lightning storm. Dicovered a new love for Will Rogers and the state of Oklahoma. Cadillac Ranch. Hiked around the Grand Canyon. Lost a few dollars in Vegas.

10. Drove the Pacific Coast highway. Ate my very first oyster. Couchsurfed. Pagan Solstice Party in Oregon. Seattle.

11. Canada. I hate you.

12. Somehow, Ricky and I wound up in Alaska. We farmed. Well, sort of. We hauled wood, mostly to be used in the hot tub. We drank a good deal of Alaskan beer, lived in a tree house, met Towanda and met my very favorite pagans.

It was around week five of Alaska when I got an interesting email from Fr. Doll. A year with some organization called JRS. It would entail me going to Rome and then wherever they wanted me to go for a year. Sure. I was failing at farming. I guess I have to suck it up and realize I may be more cut out for writing and designing, planted in front of a computer rather than trying to tame the Alaskan wilderness.

13. We took a 6-hour ferry ride to Skagway that will forever be etched in my mind... the parts that I can remember anyway. Since my parents and a few SJs read this, I can only say that I shave my friends' heads and played a good deal of blackjack.

14. We left Alaska and had a nail-biting experience with Canadian border police. Apparently they don't mind us bringing in a machete, knives, throwing stars, fireworks, booze and God knows what else into their country. But a small thing of pepper spray made us terrorists. I hate Canada.

15. I made it to U.S. soil. Got to know Richeff very well in cramped quarters couchsurfing in Montana.

16. Left for Rome. Met Seamus. Saw Ignatius' bedroom.

17. Now I am in Bangkok. I have new best friends. And a new love for Chang. I love it here. I love JRS. I can't believe I get to write the stories I get to write, met the people I have and seen the things I've seen.

This year was bananas. God bless it. And if I haven't said it enough, thank God he nudged me in the opposite direction of grad school.