This St. Patrick's Day 2012 is my 26th birthday. I frequently don't own how old I am. I tell people all the time that I'm 21 or 22. I'm not sure why I do this. I'm not ashamed of how old I am. I guess I just don't want to get older. For a long time, I've been content with where I am in my life. I've stayed on track. I've done what I'm supposed to do. I damn sure don't want to be young enough to have to go back to high school. Maybe college.
I've been thinking about my birthdays.
March 17, 1991 This is the first birthday I really remember. I'm turning 5. My visions are sketchy at best. My grandmother (the good grandma) came to my house. I tried to show her my cat, Lisa (Lester as we learned). My grandmother hated animals. She ran as well as she could. I pinched her for not wearing green. When she died, I told my parents it was my fault because I pinched her for not wearing green. I still miss her, and wish I had time to know her better and appreciate her.
March 17, 1992 There was a blizzard on my birthday in Florida. Three people came to my party. I got a pair of pink plaid tennis shoes. I still remember this.
March 17, 1999 My dad picked me and some of my friends up from school in a limo. We went to a resturant for dessert.
March 17, 2002 My 1997 white ford explorer showed up at my door. It was my first car. My first love. It went on to be my brother's first car. I'm not sure about his first love.
March 17, 2004 I turned 18. I thought it was amazing. I was an adult. I could buy lottery tickets and cigarettes if I smoked. I could vote for the president of the United States. I was awesome.
March 17, 2007 I'm 21, bitches. After all the pre-planning, the dreaming of this day, I think I was too mature for myself already. My now husband and I went and got my nose pierced. My friends came and we went to a Mexican restaurant for dinner. I drank 2 margaritas, and then went to a movie. Awesome, huh?
After 21, my birthdays became rather uneventful. While I was in graduate school, several of my friends would take me out for dinner and we would have drinks and it was always fun. My family does something for me and we usually have cake and ice cream at work. I appreciate everyone taking the time to celebrate my birthday because I think it's pretty awesome. I guess as I've gotten older, I no longer get excited about birthdays or look forward to them for days/weeks on end. I now have difficulty generating lists of things I want gift wise for my birthday.
This year, I asked my mom for a programmable crock-pot and a cook book. She also got me the new version of photoshop elements. I had several editions ago, but when I bought my mac in 2009, I never replaced it.
I asked my husband for a new purse. I've been carrying a Michael Kors purse that is soft and beautiful for a year, since my last birthday.
I'm still trying to figure out what I want from my dad.
My brother gave me a chick fil a gift card and a gift card for the App store.
My birthday this year has been amazingly perfect. And by perfect, I mean, I haven't done anything and that's the way I wanted it. The hubs and I got up this morning and went to town. We had to get my car fixed and we went to a plant sale and breakfast. My dad kept HC. My mom came over and brought me chocolate chip cookies. I laid on the couch and sat up a new blog. Perfect day.
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