by Samantha Evans
This time of year most people are busy drumming their fingers, trying to conjure up the most clever but not too uglifying Halloween costume. For once, I am like most people, and am also trying to decide who is worthy of my imitation. But unlike others, I have another seminal occasion to ponder. My mother (in)conveniently birthed me the day preceding Halloween, leaving me with a constantly themed, yet overlooked birthday party each year. (I have likened it to those born on Christmas – whose birthday gets upstaged do you think – yours or Jesus’? Yeah, exactly). J. Alfred Prufrock may have his coffee spoons at the ready, but I prefer to measure life on a larger scale. (Maybe this is why I can’t seem to keep a diary for longer than a few months at a time; once I left high school it seemed more important to live life than to record it. But then, maybe I’m just sub-consciously avoiding judgment day. After all, it’s so much easier to dance when no one’s watching.) Birthdays are inherently self-reflective. Try as I might to dose them in cocktails and celebratory dinners and be done with them, my self critic can’t help but take mental stock of my leaps and hurdles over the past year.

This year has been a year of firsts; plenty to cherish, several to mull over, a handful to use as lessons and a few to leave in the drunken abyss from which they arose. In brief summation of the last 360 days: I have seen my hard (though at times rather careless) work amount into a $20,000 piece of paper that is written solely in Latin. I have learned how resilient families really are when they have to be. I have proven that no matter how much it hurts, there are some people I will never give up on, and who will never give up on me. More importantly, I learned that some things are worth not giving up or in for. I found that dreams are indeed within reach if you know where to look and trust yourself to reach for them. I was surprised by how kind people can be when they see someone who is completely lost; I was shocked by the actions of those I thought I knew. New friendships blossomed, others faded as they inevitably do. Eggs were placed in baskets, too few I’m sure. Lessons were learned– the hard way, the slow way, the all-day on the couch with KD way. I thrust myself out onto scary limbs and found new interests, friends and memories. I drank with MuchMusic VJs of yesterday lore, schmoozed with Canadian fashion elite and dined with political royalty and their far from-the-tree heirs. I made poor decisions and still worse, but lived to sit here in a rent-free bedroom, writing for a site that last year I could only imagine contributing to, and conjuring up an outfit for yet another day at the coolest internship in a field I actually like.  

I’m still learning how to balance self indulgence with selflessness. I could also use a better idea for a Halloween costume, lest my friends abandon the Jonas Bros. and Miley ship we built together. But there is time yet for a hundred indecisions, And for a hundred visions and revisions. Happy Halloween! I’m a year older and it’s not so scary after all.