Long Time No See....

My humble apologies, readers. I have neglected you too long. As you may have guessed from my absence, I've been actually having a great time since September: made some friends, took some roadtrips, had stuff to do on the weekends. And, the latest development: I love Fresno.
Yea, I think I was kind of indifferent to Fresno when I first got here and, yes, indeedy, Fresno seemed "different". I wasn't disgusted by it but it wasn't love at first sight either. I wondered how long it would take for me to get to used to the place and the people. My final answer: 6 months.
I wonder if 6 months is the time frame it takes to get used to anything new. But then I started thinking about India. Hell, it took about a year or two before I fell in love with Bangalore and India is my "mother's land."
Anyway, back to the last couple of months. I am now officially 30. It was a sad 30th birthday. No cake except for the one I baked myself and no party except for MP being so kind as to take me out. It sucks when all your closest friends, at least the ones closest enough to throw you a party, are in another part of the country. But, I accepted it like I do most things with an "oh well, fuck it" and had the best time I could with Armenian food and a baklava. It really wasn't all that bad and, besides, in my mom's words, "Being single and 30 IS nothing to celebrate!" Gotta love her.
November was fabulous and a whirlwind of activity. San Francisco was where the conference was and it was my first time there. LOVE at first sight but wouldn't want to live there. The traffic alone would kill me. MP went to Vegas for her birthday. PC visited the week before thanksgiving. Thanksgiving was me on Cambria beach, the sunset, and a Hungry Man dinner. (Side note: Do you think they would ever call it Hungry Person dinner?)
And now it is December already. I fly home on Friday. I got an A in the class I was taking. And the best news of all, I think I'm over "him."
So, it is not necessary that I only write when I'm feeling horrid and miserable and alone. (Sorry, that was a note to self and not to you, reader). However, I argue, if I'm happy, what's there to write about? Sadness brings out such more deeper emotion in me. It seems more pure. When I'm happy, am I really happy? Or is it just a band-aid for the suffering brewing just beneath the surface ready to burst at the slightest poke. Isn't human nature to suffer? How can you be happy if you do not know what it is like to suffer?
Blah, I dunno. I'm okay right now which is why I'm totally skating over this topic. It's the equivalent of sticking my fingers in my ears and yelling, "BLAH BLAH BLAH, I CAN'T HEAR YOU!!"
Well, dear reader, we shall meet again. Wherever there is happiness, suffering is not too far behind, is it?