Its a running joke among my friends, but I don’t really think I’m old.
The birthday I think I remember the most vividly was the year I turned 29. Not because it was marked by anything spectacular; money was pretty tight and I think the best we could do at the time was head out with some friends for a couple of drinks down at our local watering hole. I remember this birthday so well because I spent most of it in tears. I was getting older, there was no turning back. My 28th year was the last one I’d ever spend feeling young and vibrant. Or so I thought, at the time.
I can’t believe 
that day was nearly twenty three years ago. Some days, its hard to remember I’ve even been alive that long. And no, that’s not because my memory is shot. Very funny.
I’ll be turning 52 this February. The thing is, I don’t think I’ve ever felt better about myself in my life. I’ve reached a point in my life (thank god)where what other people think about me is no longer relevant to my happiness. I’ve really learned to love who and what I am. Really. I’m quirky, and sarcastic, intelligent and curious, energetic and upbeat-and fun to be around to boot.
I’ve even decided to stop coloring those stately gray hairs that have been putting in an appearance for the past few years. So its kind of looking like its going to be silver locks and black suede boots for me this winter. The only thing that bothers me about the gray hair is the contrast it makes against the rest of my hair right now, because I’ve been dying it for years. I don’t think I could tell you what the real color of my hair even is, to be honest. But I found the coolest colors of hair chalk….and in a week or two I’ll be sporting silver streaks while I wait for the rest to come in. With some purple. I just had to have me some purple hair chalk. 
I’m not giving in to the battle of advancing age. I just don’t see it as a battle anymore. I’m actually pretty eager to see what the next few years are going to bring. It finally really feels like I am exactly where I should be; I’m where I belong. Its only been in this past year that I’ve learned I can be successful at some things that I didn’t want to try before; I’m a pretty fair hand at painting, enough so that I can actually hang up what I’ve done. I even get paid for my writing now-which led me to buying this domain and starting this blog. 60, 70, and even 80 are adventures just waiting to happen, as far as I’m concerned.
But you’re still going to crack me up when you complain that you just turned 30. Or 35. Or 40. You have no idea what’s waiting for you when you hit these numbers. You’ll be much happier when you get here. 
Winetemplations 