Tuesday, May 27, 2014


My birthday was this past Sunday. I am now, literally, a card-carrying 27-year old. Aside from some time spent (stupidly) ruminating over people who famously died at this age, I have to say that 27 feels a lot like 26. In fact, it feels almost exactly the same -- plus or minus (or just plus) any pounds gained from celebrating at a string of restaurants. Bragging is gross, but these places are not: Pois Penché, Deville, Brama, Arts Café, Cardinal, Petits Gâteaux, and Magpie. (Yeah, me and my people can eat.)

More important than the eating was the time I spent with people I adore. In fact, the entire weekend was jam-packed with love. There were phone calls to a soul mate in Quebec City, and shopping with some local lady-friends. My parents checked in throughout the weekend, then made the trek downtown just for dinner on Sunday night. (I was surprised by how deeply difficult it was to say goodbye to them post-meal. Was that my first real taste of growing up?) And then there was Josh. Every so often (emphasis on often), and whether he realized it or not, he would wish me Happy Birthday. On the couch? Happy Birthday. Walking down the street? Happy Birthday. On the brink of sleep? You get the idea. I'll spare you from any mushy details. He's my other half. Sometimes, even my better half. That's all you need to know.

If your birthday sets the tone for the year to follow, then hopefully mine is going to kick ass. I will make a point of seeking out the people I love and spending as much quality time with them as possible. Workdays can get long, making the quietness of idle sofa-time all the more inviting. In those moments, I MUST remind myself that seeing, talking, and sharing nourishes the spirit. A few minutes are better than nothing, and far outweigh the excuses made up for being lazy.

27, let's see what you've got.

Goodnight :*

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