All is well in California

I've been a lucky girl. In the scheme of things, I've made miraculous rebounds.

2008 was a year of absolute, impenetrable misery. In early February 2009, I broke up with my boyfriend of nearly three years, whom I moved out to California with. Life began to look up.

Not immediately, of course, but gradually. I took a trip to Switzerland in March, where I was reminded about what it was like to feel happiness and joy, to be thrilled and wanted.

The next few months after my return from CH were composed of going on dates with so-so guys. My spirits continued to climb, but there were certainly moments of doubt after some abysmal dates.

And then... I walked down the street, and saw this really handsome guy, beaming at me. It was Jared. We had a couple of pints, and talked. He grinned widely, and I blushed. All I kept thinking was, "He's so amazing!" We said goodnight, and I was smitten.

Two months later, I've freshly returned from a trip abroad, to Dublin, paid for by my employer. Greeting me upon my arrival was Jared, who then accompanied me up to Sebastapol to see two of my closest friends unite in a lawful union, in the hollow of a redwood. The next day, I met his family, all of whom were absolutely warm and welcoming; a stark contrast to some of the families I've had the misfortune of meeting in the past.

I'm ecstatic. I'm enamored. I feel like I'm the luckiest girl in the world. Things are going well at work, and my love life is brilliant. I miss my friends in Chicago and New York, but we're making it work.

I'm going to be 28 years old on Wednesday. It's a terrifying birthday, because the countdown to 30 commences, and is promised to be dramatic and painful. Nonetheless, I am enthusiastic. I'll be spending the day with a man who cares deeply about me, who will do anything to make me smile, and is absolutely deserving of all of my affection, loyalty, and care. This is all I've ever wanted. Just thought you should know.