31

I turn 31 in approximately 12 hours (I was born 7ish in the a.m.). I am sitting on my bed, drinking some really good Chardonnay (not usually a fave), mini brownies and watching Juno for the first time. Bella and Paul have joined me.

I'm excited.

31. I'm finally an adult. Here comes middle-age. Welcome middle-age. Parking in back (ha!).

Truly, I am excited. It feels a little weird, to be excited about getting older. But I am. As my dear friend, Amanda, put it, "You're really an adult now." Indeed, I am. And I ain't takin' no crap. Okay, that's not true. But, I've decided since I will be 31 tomorrow, I don't need to go on any trips to the gun store with my dad and uncle who are visiting, which I would have done when I was 30 or younger. No, I've passed into a new realm. I am now 30+. I am an adult. And I love it.

It surprises me that I am so embracing of aging. Well, I'm not fond of my white hairs, but now that I'm 31 (well, almost), I feel they fit. White hairs in your 20s? No way. 30s? OK. Wrinkles, bring them on. I feel now I need them for street cred. Who's going to believe I'm 30+ without some crows feet?

Seriously, I am so excited. I know, I know. It sounds like, "Me think she doth proclaim too much." But, really, I am. I feel like I'm 17. No, 19 years old. But I am very excited to tell people I'm 31.

So, cheers. Raise your glass. Here's to 31. And here's to another 31 years.