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 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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