I met Nancy my freshman year of college. She was an amazing and inspiring woman, and I assume she still is. Although we have since lost touch as so often seems to happen. I mention her because I have just turned 24. I remember her saying that birthdays aren’t so much a time for people to celebrate you, but for you to take a moment to celebrate the people in your life.

I have been thinking a lot lately, in that typical mind-wondering way. I realized that I really had no expectation as to where I would be at 24. But here I am, and I am very content with this. I am living in Bizzaro-America (Great Britain) with my wonderful husband who makes me laugh everyday and with whom waking up is a joy. Something I really didn’t expect marriage to be after a year of separation with him in Korea. We have a tiny little cat who is entirely unaware of how small she really is, and an adorable dog who thinks she is a very small cat. Ultimately, I am very happy with life, and it feels amazing.

I am modeling, which is crazy. Some people are starting to take notice, others couldn’t care less. I suppose that is the nature of the business. I am working full time as a graphic designer, and while the pay isn’t amazing it is more than I have ever made. I am also able to use my art degree. I was afraid for some time that I would never really find work art-related, so this job was an incredible relief. I have my own office, and a fantastic boss. I am still working on my art off and on in my free time, of which I am finding I have less and less, but that is okay.

Here I am at 24, married, working in a career, living abroad. I guess I didn’t ever expect that.

I miss many people. I miss dancing. I remember living with Ben in Montana and drinking and dancing and lying on the grass outside our apartment just looking at the stars until it was too fucking cold and we had to go in. Ben would read his poetry books to my little cat; Isabelle, and she would just cuddle up on his chest. I loved living with Ben despite some very hard and difficult times that only he and I can fully understand.

Isabelle has a green eye and a blue eye. I love her. I had to leave her with my parents back in the states. She is happy there, she plays with my parents’ cat, who sort of looks like Skeletor. She would always curl up by my chest and sleep under the covers with me every night while Casey was away. She knew the sound of my car coming home from work and would greet me at the door. She prefers to drink her water from a martini glass by the kitchen sink, and has a spot in the shape of an ice cream cone on her side. I miss that cat a lot. I know that sounds sort of absurd, but she was my companion through some really rough times and while our new cat is sweet, she will never be my Isabelle.

Do people wonder what happened to me the way I wonder what happened to them?

How are Ellen and Phil? Did they finish graduate school? Do they live together? Are they engaged? Are they happy together? Are they even still together? I hope they are happy. Both are very good humans and they deserve to be happy. Phil and I were something different, something I don’t think I will ever completely understand. I think ultimately we were just meant to be friends and we tried to hold on to something longer than we should have. I guess, at times love is like that.

I wish I could have been in Christy’s wedding. She wanted me to be her Maid of Honor. I was so honored by that. I have never been in any wedding but my own. But we were moving to England, and I just couldn’t make it. I still haven’t seen any pictures from their ceremony. I am sure she was gorgeous. I have known Christy and Jason for 10 years now. Ten years. We were awkward seventh graders, and here we all are developed into normal functional human beings.

Weston and I also became friends in the seventh grade. We started dating my senior year of high school. I really loved Weston. He really loved me. Part of me could see myself marrying him, and the other part of me knew better. I never wanted to hurt him. But I did, and I don’t think he has or will ever really forgive me and I don’t blame. He had this gorgeous curly hair and beautiful blue eyes. I saw a little boy today with hair that reminded me of his. Weston made me laugh a lot, but we both had this gnawing sadness that I knew would always linger between us. He has a darling son who is almost a year old now and a beautiful wife. He hasn’t spoken to me since his wedding over a year ago. Perhaps things are better that way.

Zach still crosses my mind. At the time of his death he had drifted apart as friends, but he was still a wonderful human. Zach was just one of those naturally nice people. His death seems so surreal. In some ways it still does. He was one of my best friends through my freshman year of college. We were friends, coworkers, fellow art students, and then one day--he no longer existed. I was at work when Phil gave me the news. Zach has had an epileptic seizure while swimming in Australia and drown. That was it. That whole April was a stark reminder of our own mortality. I still find pictures of him here and there. They make me happy and sad at the same time.

Sam used to sing and play the guitar. I loved it. Everyone loved it. She was this beautiful creature that was stifled in a small town. We became friends within our first week of college. She once wrote a song about me. I don’t remember all the words, but the chorus said something along the lines of , ‘Hey graceful girl…don’t take your word, take mine…” I thought that was really sweet. She had this awful mural of Mr. Potato Head painted right outside her dorm room, and always had a supply of Oreo cookies. Once Katherine, Nancy, Sam and I had an 11/11 11:11:11 party; it lasted one second and we threw goldfish crackers into the air. One of those strangely beautiful memories. Over the years she continued to blossom into the gorgeous woman she is today, but she stopped writing songs and stopped playing the guitar. I should get in touch with her more than I do. I really miss her. I miss Trisha and Lylee.

I miss Ariel. I remember when she visited me last November. She came by train. She is one of the most wonderful people I have ever met. She is horrible with time but is capable of infinite compassion. I used to rest my head in her lap and she would play with my hair. We used to sneak alcohol into the movies. She is so free with life; I wish I were more like that. Ariel has endless charm and I truly admire her. I hope she finds the answers in life that she is looking for.

My brother and I don’t talk much. We aren’t on bad terms. I think he just finds himself far beyond his simple family and probably finds himself having less and less in common with us other than genetics. He is very intelligent—although, I have yet to learn whether he will use his powers for good or evil.

I love my parents. I appreciate them so much more now that I am older. My mother is a strong woman who I deeply admire. My father is rather quiet, but has a fantastic sense of humor.

I have been thinking a lot about people that I have known. I can’t help but wonder if they think of me or what they think of me.

I am not even sure why I wrote this. I am not much of a writer; I think it was simply some thoughts in my head that need to get out. I post it because I feel like I should. Although this is absurdly long and I don’t expect people to want to read it.

Such is life. I am now 24.