Today is my 26th birthday, and I have to say it: My birthday is one of my favorite holidays. Selfish? Definitely. Oh well. I really love my birthday. Is that weird? Am I too old to like my birthday so much?
So today’s post is dedicated to all those birthdays past. (The ones I have pictures on hand for anyway.) And if you were a reader around this time last you, you’ll know that Sam and I were in a very awful long-distance relationship and celebrated over Skype. Yep, he threw me a Skype party.
I have to admit that my life doesn’t remotely resemble what I thought my life was going to look like at 26. As a kid, 26 is so thoroughly grown-up. I’m not famous, or sucessful. I don’t have any money in my savings account. (Or my checking) I’ll be 50 before I pay off my student loans, home ownership a pipe dream. I’m not as widely traveled, fabulously dressed, or (it pains me to admit it) as smart as I envisioned myself being.
I have a BA and an MA. I have a partner in my life that I love unwaveringly. I’ve been paid to act. I’ve been paid for my poetry. I get to live in a country that I am not a citizen of. I write this blog and people actually read it.
I’ve always been an idealist and a dreamer. At my best I can be inspired, highly creative, and sensitive; at my worst, melancholy, contemptful and self-indlugent. So here’s to 26 bringing out more of the positive spectrum of my personality.
The “I get to eat frosting flowers” face of excitement.
My love of the Wizard of Oz knew no bounds. It was the perfect cake. Look at that expression of pure cake joy.
Ha! I can’t believe someone gave me $20 in ones. It’s like they wanted me to grow up and me a stripper. Look at how rich I thought I was! (And how nonplussed my mom was.)
Another snap of the same birthday. I just wanted to show you all my piggy-cake face.
Now let’s fast forward 11 years. (Because I can’t be bothered to dig for those photos.)
With my best friend ever G, outside the Denver Art Museum. It was apparently not a photogenic birthday.
|Snaffling some Oreo Ice Cream Cake in my Atlanta apartment|
|Birthday sass. (And the time I mistakenly thought boyfriend jeans could be flattering. )|
Two of my lovely girlfriends making me a birthday picnic in Atlanta.
|My beautiful former flatmate, A, and I with the giggles.|
Here’s to many more birthdays with people just as amazing as the these!
And I have a lovely blog sponsor like Allison!