And Counting

Yesterday, I turned twenty seven. This morning, I sit in the dark wondering what I should write to commemorate the event.

Some ideas that don't look like they will make it:

A list of 30 things to do before I turn thirty. But I think I have set myself up for enough failure lately. Also, I got stuck after #1, which of course, was - Finally admit I like the movie, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, in an earnest, non-ironic kind of way. Because don't we all have a few vampires to slay? And look at all that colored leather. And I honestly, pinky swear, really and truly, wish I could have danced with Luke Perry at my prom.

A letter to me, about me, written by me. I already spend most of my life tiptoeing between adorable(ish) quirks and outright crazy. Talking about myself in the second person cannot possibly help my case.

A photo essay. I didn't take very many pictures yesterday. And trying to recreate the big day by myself at 6am this morning has proven difficult. I did just get some interesting shots of my surprise face next to the birthday cake. Only it was an ice cream cake. That I left out last night. So the pictures are a little depressing.

What can I write? I can write about being the most ridiculously blessed girl that was ever allowed to breathe this God-given air. I can write about the beauty that fills my life. The enormity of  being able to walk across the years with people that I love. People that, for some reason, love me. I can write about the stars, the crunch of a creme brulee, the pages of my favorite book and the blue in Riley's eyes. About the blessing of my children and the warmth of my husband.  I can write  about the promise of a morning that has yet to see the sun.

But instead I will just say, it has been a glorious twenty seven years.

Please. Let me have more.