I'm 23 years old today. Okay actually I've been 23 for two days, but who is counting?
I'm wondering how it's possible to feel as old and as young as I do at the same time. Old because I have graduated college and have entered the working world, and young because my entire adult life is just beginning.
Last year on my birthday I was still at home for Christmas break, snowed in and unable to leave home (literally) because the weather was so icey. It was the Sunday before MLK, and I walked in the snow and ice to my friend MK's house for a tea party. Before my parents moved, I lived in a neighborhood with several of my close friends within walking-distance.
I remember the next day meeting up with my roommate KW and having the most nerve-racking driving experience of my life trying to get back to College Station. You never realize how many bridges and overpasses you cross on a three and a half hour drive until you're praying for your life over EACH and EVERY one of them.
File that under "things I never told my parents".
I spent Monday wishing and hoping that we would get a few snow flurries, so that I could sing the rendition I had already come up with of "I'm dreaming of a white birthday". It didn't happen, or if it did, I was already asleep. I'm 23 now people! My bedtime peaked on or surrounding my 19th birthday, when I was a freshman in college and I survived on croissant sandwiches, my daily dose of Days Of Our Lives and five or six hours of sleep a night.
Our friend RM is back in town for job training- he blew into town in his typical outlaw-fashion, and took AV, KR and I out to dinner at a quaint, dimly-lit little Italian place about 20 blocks up from us.
AV and KR made me vanilla-on-vanilla cupcakes with pink and light purple frosting for the occasion. I also hauled a huge box home from work that my Mom had mailed me the other day- so we were all fixed up with little kid sunglasses, Mardi Gras beads, huge plastic cocktail rings and Happy Birthday headbands. Barbie herself could not have dreamed up a better party. RM left to go back to his hotel at 10:30 and we all practically collapsed from exhaustion.
My friend MC from work has a birthday tomorrow, and so last night we and our other assistant friends all went out for a joint birthday happy hour at a bar near our office. It was nice to get to hang out, relax and enjoy a drink without the usual constraints of the lunch hour.
I was asked for 23 pieces of wisdom the other night by RM- and I gave him a few “Rome wasn’t built in a day, dance like no one is watching, if it’s not broken then don’t fix it” clichés… and not because I felt like being smart, or because I’m actually incredibly witty, but because I kind of realized that I didn’t have anything to say.
I mentioned the goal-setting/goal-reaching thing a few posts ago- that with the combination of my rapid aging has gotten me thinking. I feel like I accomplished what I set out to do as a 22-year-old, and I hope to do the same this year.
23 obviously worked some magic for Michael Jordan.
While I’m figuring out what exactly my special somethings for 23 will be, I can certainly say that I am very loved, and Monday reminded me of that. So thanks to everyone who called, e-mailed, text-ed, IMed and Facebook-ed me to wish me well. And thanks for reading this; because that’s the best birthday gift I could ask for.
"I know nothing with any certainty, but the sight of starts makes me dream."
- Vincent Van Gogh