Seven Notes-to-Self for Oh Seven

Happy New Year Everyone! Welcome to 2007. Hope you all enjoyed ringing in the new year as much as I did. I attended a party at my friend Bridget's house in Washington, DC. A real grown up affair it was, too--with wine and Brie cheese and shrimp cocktail. A true contrast to the keg n' bowl of pretzels-type soirees I am accustomed to as a student. There's me there in the borrowed purple top (looking a tad preggers?) standing next to my Clark soulmate Jacob and my Bangalee BRAC homie Arif.

What was your new year's resolution? This year, instead of vowing to shed the body weight roughly equivalent to an average kindergartener that I've gained since October, I present to you my seven notes-to-self for '07:

1. Investing in a good backpack is a wise idea. Santa brought me a very expensive and totally equipped trekking backpack for Christmas this year. By far one of his best gifts. It has helped me transport a ridiculous amount of crapola from Grand Rapids to Ann Arbor to Washington DC to Worcester and now to NY City this weekend. It is a bad idea, however, to carry it while wearing heels. Almost snapped a coupla vertebre yesterday.

2. I am a D-Cup. Yes, I am talking brassiere size folks. I'm not ashamed to be a full figure woman anymore. After years of suggestions from female friends and pleading from my mother, I went for a proper fitting at Victoria's Secret (a store whose recent makeover makes it look as though middle school threw up on it) and discovered that my B-cup runneth over...BIG TIME. No wonder my bras feel like C-clamps for my rib cage.

3. Stop falling head over heels every six months. Since starting Clark, I've been the victim of several intensely convincing infatuations. Though they tend to be short-lived and extremely shallow, it still sucks when you find out one of your former beloveds just got engaged to a (much taller, and undoubtedly better looking) woman who is decidedly NOT you. Remember my 'love-that-lasted-a-lunchtime' from spring break last year? Yeah, his wedding's in June. Ouch.

4. Always lock your bedroom door when you leave for vacation. I returned to my empty apartment yesterday to a disturbing and baffling crime scene in my room. My bedcovers were askew, there was a bottle of Reddiwhip on my nightstand, a pillow I'd never seen before on my floor and a hand-written sign above my bed that read "All Religions Welcome Here!" with two smiley faces. I fear to ask my roomates what the hell went on in there while I was in Michigan.

5. I may be poor in cash assets, but I am rich with friends and family. Over the break, I realized that while I may lack funds, the number of amazing, loving people in my life is something I can really take to the bank. I was lucky to spend time with my hilarious, sweet, extraordinary parents and sister, the Wanstens (who are like my second family), my talented uncle Joy, and my lil' cuz Raphael. I got to see my dear high school and college soulmates Christie, Meghan and Peggy, debate pals Austin, Todd and Kim, Josh Landon, Greg, Dave Strauss, JJVanda, Cascade comrade Mindy, James Madison college friend Johnny G. and former 'Desh doggs Katie Z, Bridget, Arif, Yasmeen. This weekend I plan to hang out with McNair scholas (holla!) Carl and Jason and my platonic high school sweetheart Libby. People I love are all the currency I need. The rest is provided by the Mommy and Daddy foundation.

6. I must invest in a good hair dye. I remember about two years ago when I was taking a bus alone through a rural part of Bangladesh to get to a BRAC field office for some research. I was sitting next to a little old Mullah (religious man) in a white panjabi and prayer cap who proclaimed that the biggest problem facing the Bengali people--second perhaps only to political corruption-- is that our hair goes grey far too early. I'd have to agree. My sister discovered a hidden patch of greys near my left temple. Sigh.

7. Have pride in your roots, but don't be Proud. I mowed a slice of humble pie last week when I tried talking trash during Trivia night in a DC bar. The game was "Gerald R. Ford Trivia," and I got a little big-headed as former resident of G-Fo's hometown of Grand Rapids, MI. I couldn't even answer the question "what does the R in Gerald R. Ford stand for?" I thought 'Reginald' was a decent guess, but the answer is apparently 'Rudolph.' Who knew? BOOOOOOO!!!!

There you have it. Now go seize the day!