Another year, another birthday. I always feel like I should write something insightful to celebrate milestones, something that reflects the things I’ve learned and my hopes for the future. Instead of writing such a post I spent today watching season three of Jane the Virgin and, in the past half hour, eating too many of the chocolate truffles my parents brought home. I am truly making the most of my fleeting youth.
I’ve apparently hit that boring age where when asked what I wanted to do for my birthday I had to think really hard before vaguely suggesting brunch. Then when asked what I wanted for my birthday, I waffled around because you can’t really buy things like “a sense of purpose” or “confidence that teaching is what I want to do and I didn’t just waste a year and a lot of money for nothing” or “to exercise without my knees hurting like an old person”.
A decade ago I knew what I wanted: to be a best selling author, and starring as Galinda in Wicked on Broadway. I was still in my manga phase, so I also wanted to speak Japanese.
When people ask what I want to do now I kind of make weird noises and –
I don’t really have an ending to this post, much like I didn’t have a real start or middle. If this were an inspirational blog I could write about the beauty of accepting the unpredictably of life. If this were a religious blog I could write about how my future was in God’s hands. If this were a food blog I would probably say nothing can’t be fixed with cupcakes and would include a recipe for cupcakes. Why do food blogs do that? Start writing something randomly deep and then transition into a recipe? I guess the bloggers are trying to give the food a story (which is something they talk about a lot on the Food Network). What it really means is that I have to scroll past a lot of nostalgic descriptions before I get to the recipe part of the post. By that time I’ve also had to scroll past a lot of photos and have probably decided that it would be easier to just eat leftovers because cooking is hard.
This blog is none of those things. In fact, who knows what this blog is? So rather than wise words or goals for the year, which I don’t exactly have, I guess here’s to not knowing things (even though I hate not knowing things) and trying to be okay with it (even when I’m totally not because I are very type A).
And that’s how the kitty crumbles…