...another year older

...but it's okay.

Yesterday was my birthday, and it was a good one. How I feel about getting older varies from year to year. For instance, I didn't think that 30 would be a big deal for me, but as it got closer, I started feeling panicky about how little I've done with my life. I called some friends to ask if they'd let me come over to their house and order pizza and watch movies or something so that I just wouldn't have to be alone on my 30th. Not only did they let me come over, they threw me the coolest surprise party ever. They reminded me that I do have lots of friends, and that I have done some good stuff with my life.

Flash forward to yesterday - the 32nd birthday. As it approached, I found that it really wasn't nearly as important to me as birthdays usually are. I even kept forgetting that it was coming up. Usually, somewhere around Thanksgiving, I begin planning what I'll be doing on my birthday, what I'll shop for with the birthday money I'll get from my family, etc. In my head, I think of it the way my father jokingly refers to his own natal celebration: " The Birthday Month." But this time, I was okay with whatever happened or didn't happen. Does this mean that I'm more secure in myself/my aging than last year(s)? Who the heck knows.

So what did happen, you ask? Well, I'll tell ya.
It started the night before, when a local theatre company that I'm involved with threw its end-of-year party. I got to see some theatre friends, sip Cosmos, and stay out late. I had several "Happy Birthday" wishes and even an early birthday present. Then on the day itself, I got lots of phone calls (2 international!) , birthday cards and emails, and wishes from friends, family, and coworkers. My boyfriend took me out to dinner, and gave me some really cool presents. All in all, I'm a pretty happy old gal. I can't wait to see what this next year has in store for me!