Walker

Two thousand nine. Midnight.

My co-bartender, Gabe, and I hugged each other. We spent the night mixing drinks and serving them to everyone at a rave in the west side of Chicago. That party left me with a hangover that lasted two days straight.

As soon as I recovered, I rolled up my sleeves and began my job hunt as a fresh college graduate. It did not take long before I started feeling the grim side effects of the frail economy. Businesses everywhere were downsizing or going bankrupt, and the jobs I qualified for were taken by experienced industry professionals who needed to downgrade in order to keep working. My mother told me that I graduated during the worst time in history. I also moved back in with my dad to save money. Despite all that, I kept my chin up and sent out my resume to hundreds and hundreds of places in Chicago, San Francisco, Los Angeles, and Honolulu.

In the meantime, I became close with an U.S. Sergeant who was deployed overseas. His name was Joshua. We talked every day about everything, and we practically became best friends. At one point, he told me that I had captured his imagination and that it was calming to talk to me in the midst of all the chaos going on in Mosul, Iraq.

On the morning of February 9, 2009, a suicide bomber with a VBIED (Vehicle Born Improvised Explosive Device) t-boned a Humvee and killed five soldiers. Joshua was one of them. It was the deadliest attack against the U.S.A. in over a year. I was devastated when I heard the news.

The spring of 2009 was spent job hunting, job hunting, job hunting, and painting the city of Chicago red. One of the upsides of being unemployed is that I was able to spend time with my friends and to meet new people. Once June rolled around, Nate invited me to New York City at the last minute, and I gladly accepted.

I liked New York City a lot. It was so alive. Right there and then, I decided that I needed to travel more. So I did.

On July 2nd, 2009, I hopped on a plane with an oversized suitcase and flew to the city I had always wanted to visit: San Francisco, California. The day I landed, I met the nicest family ever, the Sinclairs. The father, Jake, offered me a temporary post-production job, so I got to work right there and then. I spent the entire month working, petsitting, meeting wonderful people, and exploring San Francisco. I had never felt so right in a place before. It was truly a beautiful city with the kindest people you would ever meet. I had fallen in love with San Francisco and decided that it would be my home someday.

A few weeks later, I left the country for the second time in my life when I flew to Bermuda with Nate. We spent the entire week swimming in the crystal-clear blue water, exploring the island, and soaking in the beautiful Bermudian culture and customs.

I returned to Chicago richer in experience (and missing the NoCal mountains and the sandy Bermudian beach like none other). Not even a week later, I was reunited with two old friends: Jeff Smaltz and Jeff Hoogervorst. Soon enough, I found myself talking to them all the time. They were my new partners in crime.

Sometime in September, Hoogervorst and I went on a date in downtown Chicago, and we had a great time. It was right there and then when I decided that I wanted to be with him. My wish came true two months later, right after I returned from a short vacation in Phoenix. On November 11, 2009, Jeff became my boyfriend. It was a new chapter in my life, and I was on top of the world. I am astounded by the fact that he was right under my nose all these years. I feel so lucky to be his girlfriend.

For every upside, there's a downside. The morning of December 23, 2009, my beloved grandfather, Carlo Fucarino, passed away unexpectedly. He was only 74 years old. My family was in shambles, but we all stuck together through the ordeal. I did not take it very well. He was a wonderful man and an even better grandfather who was always there for me my entire life. My grandma, who was married to him for 53 years, was not used to being alone, so I spend the last days of 2009 keeping her company.

Despite some great highlights, 2009 was the worst year of my life. I could only hope that 2010 would be better. Tonight, when the clock strikes midnight, I will be at Amy Dignan's party. Jeff and I will share a kiss, starting off the new year that will be summed up in a post exactly one year from now that will begin with...

Twenty ten. Midnight.