Happy Birthday to me! Not to toot my horn or anything. ]Toot toot.] I love that commercial.
I’m twenty-six today, which sounds a lot older than twenty-five. Twenty-five is a nice number. I’ve talked some this year about how I’m going to stop caring about age. I’ve made improvements!
About two years ago I was obsessed with age. Like to the point where I cried watching The Help when the mother is talking about how her son died at the age of twenty-four and that’s the best part of a person’s life. I couldn’t watch anymore of the movie after that. [Note so self: watch the rest of that movie.] I was thinking “…CRAP. I’m twenty-four! Does that mean the best years are almost over?!”
I prayed a lot asking God to help me get over this hang up and just enjoy life at whatever age He lets me get to. I really feel like I’ve done just that. My way of thinking now is that you’re only as old as you feel. And I sure as heck don’t feel twenty-six. I’ve decided I’m going to be a young whatever-age-I-happen-to-be.
I’m going to be forever young because...
I’ll never outgrow my black and pink Vans that I've had since I was 16.
I’ll always be mesmerized by twinkling lights.
My dad will always be the be all end all.
I'm always going to clap my hands together like a little girl when I get excited.
Candy will always be the way to my heart.
I'll never stop saying "DUDE".
I'll always giggle when someone says something sexual and they don't mean to.
I'm never going to stop rocking out in my car.
Forever 21 will always be my favorite (how ironic).
Eat some cake and have a FABULOUS weekend!