25.9 years.
9486.5 days.
227676 hours.
13660560 minutes.

Yep, I’m THAT old. If I lived on Mars (with all of the Men there, according to John Gray, at least), I’d be a mere 13.8 Martian years old. Despite my proclivity to complain about my advancing age, sans hubby and 2.5, I think I’d rather be nearly 26 than have to be 13 again. (I wonder if Martians go through adolescence?)

That notwithstanding, I know you fully expect me to wax lyrical on days gone by, detailing where I was a year ago and where I’ve been. (Hell, I’ve done it before.) I could talk about some of the lessons I’ve learned over the past year or so – to trust your first instincts as you’re usually wary about something (or someone) for a reason, that people really don’t change and that we need to see our friends and partners for who they really are instead of who we would like them to be – but I’ll just leave it at that. I could discuss my various days of drinking & debauchery over the last 365 days, but pictures are worth 1000 words so I’ll let them to the talking. I could look to the future, setting goals on where I’d like to be in days to come, citing fame, fortune (or at least an increase from my current state of destitution), and fulfilling love, but I’m as fickle as I am impetuous and I hate having to change my goals every week or so.

Instead, I’ll give you a wish list.

In years past, I went the solely material route, citing various items that I longed for as a birthday or Valentine’s Day or Christmas present, which was met with limited success. (WHY hasn’t anyone gotten me a karaoke machine yet?) I lusted and listed, putting time & effort into what would just make my life fan-friekin-tastic at that point in time. Going that route was my initial thought here, but I really couldn’t figure out what I wanted or, more importantly, I needed. Though there are a few items that I wouldn’t mind receiving for my upcoming 26th anniversary of my fantabulous birth (which, for those of you who continue to get it wrong, is June 8th), not one would make my life perfect, make my life complete, even make my life noticeably better. Face it – I’ve got a pretty good life going here, and while I’m quick to rant and rave about drivers who don’t turn off their turn signal and cats that poop in the bathtub, I’ve got it pretty good. So this year for my birthday, I want:

• A sunny afternoon with no responsibilities and a pitcher of margaritas
• An evening on a deck with friends, chatting and laughing until the wee hours of the morning
• A late night call when you talk about anything and everything and get off the phone only because your cell phone battery is dying
• An early morning call just to say good morning
• A day at the pool, having underwater tea parties and handstand contests
• A rainy Sunday where I watch DVD’s in bed all day
• An unexpected phone call or chance meeting with an old friend
• A new favorite song that is so good that I can play it over and over again and not get sick of it
• A rockin’ birthday party with friends from out of town, tiki torches that don’t burn down my house and a fantastic orchid lei
• A pair of Seven Jeans that aren’t so low on my longest-torso-ever that they’re nearly obscene (sorry, had to have at least ONE materialistic item in there)
• A long, relaxing bubble bath. En tandem
• A bold move

  They say the best things in life are free, and in this case, I have to agree.

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