Two thousand and three.

Oh, 2003. How have five years passed since I rang in the new year with Kelly at her mother’s house in Connecticut, watching an Insomniac with Dave Attell marathon, driving to my parents’ house on January first, cursing the fact that while southern Connecticut bragged green lawns, Massachusetts streets were covered with the fluffy white stuff? Years pass so quickly.

I remember 2003, picking up my friend Peter at the Springfield train station to meet a friend of his online, and driving back to Indiana with him in my car, afraid of my erratic driving through the snow in upstate New York.

I couldn’t wait to spend time with a guy I started dating, named Scott, who I began dating only eight days before Christmas. When I returned to Indiana we spent four days together, and we fell in love. I spent much of my year with this boy, listening to music, going to shows, and drinking at a local bar. I moved from Long Island Iced Teas, to White Russians, to Amaretto Sours, to Woodchuck cider. I tried a Bud Light one evening but could not finish it. I did not enjoy beer.

I lost friends over a Livejournal post and spent my last semester of college a wreck. This makes me laugh now, as these people weren’t ever real friends and I’m glad to have washed them from my life. My true friends don’t write in ‘private’ online journals discussing how much they, in fact, dislike me, and my true friends also do not say they were just ‘ranting’ when later on, I confront them about it. Lesson learned.

I met Scott’s family in late January, in St Louis, and he met mine in March. We climbed Mt Holyoke and bought Guided By Voices albums, and I found I did not like California rolls while eating at a Japanese restaurant in Northampton.

I listened to Zwan, and Guided By Voices, Sun Kil Moon, and Grandaddy in 2003. I discovered Sirius radio and spent time discovering new sounds. We saw Zwan in concert twice, the Strokes once. Black Rebel Motorcycle Club’s second album came out in the fall and I bought it for $5.29 at a Best Buy in Massachusetts.

In May, I graduated college. My family came to Indiana to wish me well, and we stayed in a hotel with more humidity than most of the city itself, and we feared getting blown over by the many tornado warnings we endured during that weekend. Scott and I made a very funny couple our first year together. He met the rest of my family that Christmas.

I moved back to Massachusetts in the fall of 2003, and stayed for approximately three weeks before moving back to Bloomington. I initially went to visit Scott, who stayed in Bloomington to finish his degree, and ended my stay with a job supervising lab consultants for the university. I technically didn’t have a place to live for three months; I dumped my stuff at an old coworker’s apartment and paid rent there, but stayed with Scott at his tiny one bedroom apartment barely big enough for the two of us. My car lived at my old apartment complex from the summer, and we’d go check on it every so often to make sure it hadn’t been towed. Ah, the life of a new graduate without a real home.

I did not knit much in 2003; I cross-stitched. I met Cindy and Joe in October, and I visited Hershey Park which really does smell like chocolate. Cindy and I cross-stitched while watching Star Wars and we collected Monopoly pieces at a nearby mall, and saw animals in the dark, right before Halloween. I spent too much of 2003 in a car, driving to and from places far from each other.

2003 was a disjointed year for me, a year of new beginnings. I don’t like most of my memories associated with 2003 and I consider it one of the worst years of my life, mainly because of my state of mind. It’s interesting, looking back at my thoughts and the events that occurred.