It seems like I can never stop thanking people enough the past few days.

And that’s not bad, of course, especially since the birthday just passed by, and yet it seems like it’s still my birthday because of so many things. But well, I usually celebrate my birthday for an entire month, anyway.

But yeah, I can’t stop thanking everyone who made this month just extra special. It’s the quiet kind of gratitude — well, as quiet as I can be ((which isn’t…really…quiet. Haha)) — the one that just makes me smile every now and then when I remember all the kindness and love I have received from people in the past weeks.

What did I do to deserve all this?

I’m going to take this moment — one last time — to express this gratitude. Because I don’t think you can ever stop expressing it, saying thanks. I’ve sent thank you notes, sent text messages and just reveled at the feeling of being loved, and in case it’s not clear enough, I want to say this again:

Image from we heart it
Image from we heart it

This is, hands down, the best birthday month ever. And it’s not even done yet. But since the last few days of March are also one of the most intense seasons in the Catholic church (Hello, Triduum!), it’s time to step back and focus on that.

But again, thank you. You all know who you are. Thank you from the bottom of my sunflower-loving, solar-powered, star-girl heart. ♥

Twenty Seven

I turned 27 last Sunday. I’ve been trying to think of what to write about it (because like Valentine’s Day, I can’t not have a post about my birthday), but other than my dog’s passing, I can’t think of any. It’s not that my birthday was quiet or not spectacular — it was, actually. I guess it’s more of, I don’t really know how to start without writing a too long post that I’m pretty sure only I would read.

So let’s ask questions instead (because I’m trying to get out of not wanting to ask questions). I will try not to make this post too long. There will be photos!

Image from we heart it
Image from we heart it

How was your birthday week?

It started with drama. Interesting, right? But it was also a very good learning experience (with tears, natch) that taught me my first lesson in turning 27: be mature. Maturity is a conscious decision;  even if everything inside of me is screaming that I want my way and my way alone, I have to step back and give way. Like what I told someone that night — I have the most terrible sense of entitlement during my favorite month. Most terrible, I tell you, but turning another year older means that I have to start acting my age and compromise. Or if a compromise cannot be reached…then I just have to deal with it. Properly. And apologize if I need to.

But after that drama, everything else was quite…nice. Okay, nice is an understatement. It was all surprising and fun, filled with dinner meet-ups, surprises, books, pie and cake. Oh, and flowers. It was a very nice awesome splendid birthday week. :)

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I was supposed to blog about my birthday week, but this is a more pressing matter, so the birthday post will have to wait a bit. Pardon the length of this entry — I just want to pay a tribute to a friend.

Dear Batman,

I have always been afraid of dogs, so when my brother and his then-girlfriend-now-wife brought you home, I wasn’t sure what to make of you. I was afraid you’d bite and chase me around, which was the reason I thought I was a cat person more than a dog person. But you were a sweet (and fat) little bundle of joy, and you immediately warmed up to all of us when you first arrived at home. I wasn’t sure, but I thought I could probably learn to love dogs after your first day at home.

Batman at one month old, with my sister-in-law.
Batman at one month old, with my sister-in-law.

I remember that time when you first got sick. I remember reaching into your cage to pat you, and you leaned to my hands because you were feeling weak, and for the first time, I felt genuine worry for you. I was afraid you’d be like the last puppy we had, who lived with us for two weeks before finally passing on my birthday. You were more of my brother’s dog than mine, but I have grown to like you then, and I couldn’t imagine you leaving us too soon. Thank God you got well.

Let me see if I could remember how you are as a puppy: you like snuggling into little corners, hiding from us so we’d have to look for you and chase you around. You were friends with one of our old cats, and I remember my brother taking a video of you trying to play with that poor cat who was trying to get away from you. You liked digging around the garden, and every now and then, we’d find you trying to chew on a rock you have claimed as your own. You liked baths, but only if my brother gives it to you. On my 21st birthday party, I had to put you away from the visitors and you kept on barking. I thought you were barking because there were strangers at home, but it turns out, you just didn’t want to be alone. You quieted down when I went there, and I found it really funny when some of my friends decided to sit near you and you sat like the good dog you are.

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