It’s almost birthday-time for me, and with it comes a lot of pondering things & stuff. Cause, like, I’m almost 30, Peeps. I’ll be 28, which is 2 less than 30, and ten more than 18. In fact, when I was 18 years old, as a senior in high school, ten of my friends and I had a progressive dinner at Christmas time. We all dressed up and went from house to house for each course, and finished at the Grove Park Inn. At our last house before going out, we all said what we thought we’d be doing in ten years. I don’t remember all of them, but I’m pretty sure we’re all pretty close to living up to our predictions. I remember feeling conflicted and not knowing quite what to say. I could see myself doing two distinctly different things, and couldn’t reconcile them to each other. One was that I’d be married and starting a family, and the other was that I’d be in New York pursuing acting. Guess which one I did? Well, neither really, because I’m not in New York, but I am living the single life and pursuing my dreams, and I could not be more happy with my decision. The older I get, the more comfortable I become with the choices I’ve made, and the more I like myself. It’s taken me so long to realize certain things, the knowledge of which I feel I could not live without, and every year I gain more confidence, and with confidence comes fun. So contrary to what we may be taught to believe, I am not having less fun the older I get — I’m having so much more. I have a really really good feeling about this year. Happy Birthday, Me!