The End of My Beginning in Cincinnati.

With the click of a door and the turn of a lock, my first phase of Cincinnati living has officially come to a close.

It's bizarre that I had to go back through two years of updates to find my first mention of Jess, in November 2010. I met her at a Habitat for Humanity YP event just a week after my dad moved me out of Walnut Hills. Still terrified of the city, Jess was the rock I needed most at that time -- a careful planner and always-alert woman, she never mocked my insecurity about being alone or my desire to only go out during the day.

Together, we found a few of my favorite places in the city -- Findlay Market, Sharon Woods, the Esquire Theatre. But this week, she's off on a new adventure: Yale Law School.

As we said our goodbyes tonight after a final show at The Esquire (if you haven't seen "Lola Versus" -- stop reading and go see it NOW. Especially if you're a single 20-something woman) and a dinner of half-okay sushi in Clifton, I got in my car and couldn't help feeling like the first act of my life here was over. Dunzo. Fin.

Recently, I haven't seen Jess all that often. She was busy training for the Flying Pig and -- oh yeah -- getting into every Ivy League law school in the country, and I was making new friends and exploring new things. But during that time, it became clear that she was that friend I could always meet up and pick up with, no matter where we had left off. I found myself losing track of stories tonight, thinking has it really been so long, I haven't told you that? 

I have a few other friends like this, which comforts me as I uneasily come to grips with my constant leaving me. I'm sure it won't be too long until an email is exchanged, or a boy situation requires immediate attention. I'm also planning a trip to the east coast, which, of course, will require a visit to New Haven (70% for Jess, 30% so I can pretend to be Rory Gilmore for a day). And this isn't the first time I'm "losing" someone I care about because life leads us different ways. I'll never forget sobbing on my front porch after Allyson left my house the morning I left for CMU and she left for MSU. I'll never forget my last moments swigging champagne in my Jeep with my sisters as we squealed into commencement a few minutes late.

The difference this time, though, is Jess and I are going completely different ways. I'm staying in Cincinnati because -- well, I'm a big kid now, and this is where my job is -- and she's going back to school. I have no doubt her next move will be just as big, somewhere far away from the Midwest -- but there's time to watch all that unfurl.

Jess, thank you for being such a wonderful friend during such a trying time. Thank you for listening to my melodramas, and remembering the details of who's whom, whom I dislike today, and whom I may want to fall in love with tomorrow. And most of all, thank you for being such a big part of one of my greatest adventures.

Steel-toed Boots or Hurdles? It's Up to Me.

About a month ago, I was gazing longingly at the month of June -- just a calendar page in a year that's racing by so quickly, I can barely keep up. From Memorial Day Weekend forward, my life was going to be a jumble of old friends and celebrations, and I couldn't wait for all the excitement to begin.

What I hadn't accounted for were those pesky days in between the weekends -- you know, the ones filled with work and moving (yes, again).

But with undoubtedly one of the most stressful weeks of all time behind me, I woke up this morning with an overwhelming sense of happiness. I'm in my new apartment, even if I'm not completely unpacked, and it seems like my cell is vibrating with fabulous news every day. From engagements to babies (more BOYS!!!) to weddings to new jobs -- the lives of the people I love most look amazing right now. Mine does, too, actually.

After a couple of very stressful years, I've become accustomed to the other shoe dropping, so to speak. And until last week, I had been holding my breath -- expecting a steel-toed boot to come stomping down on me. And just like all self-fulfilling prophecies, it did. Within days, a couple of unexpected phone calls and emails threw me into a tailspin, a killer hangover ruined an entire Saturday, and a change up at work had me scrambling to get my footing. Thank you, Universe.

Now, a few days removed, I realize what I felt wasn't the steel-toed boot -- well, it might have been, but instead of crushing me, it just tripped me. I stumbled, but I kept running. I barrelled through the crazy work week, I accepted and let go of one ridiculous phone call, and embraced a new direction that came from a second. It feels amazing.

Of everything I'm learning about myself these days, this might be the most significant lesson I've had in a while -- the boot only stomps if I let it. I also think that's the difference between someone who seems to have all the luck and someone who doesn't. We all have boots ready to stomp or trip us up, but it's not the Universe or the boot that decides which it will be. It's each of us that gets to choose whether a setback will be a debilitating blow, or if it will just be a hurdle to crawl under, leap over or run through.

From now on, I'm choosing hurdles.