Another year older...
With age comes wisdom. What I’ve learned, the thirty-[coughcough] anniversary edition:
* I finally broke my mother of her tradition of calling me at 2:35 a.m. on my birthday to remind me that she was in labor XX years ago to the very minute. It was a stitch when I was in my 20s and likely to still be out on the town when she called, but at 30, I am less amused by being woken up at that hour.
* When it comes to tangibles, I have everything I really want or need.
* I stopped aging four years ago so I no longer have to worry about crow’s feet, frown lines, or not being cute anymore. I am as cute today as I was at 16.
* I would have a nine-martini hangover right now if I could still drink alcohol. I don’t miss it as much as I thought I would.
* You can always count on yourself. Rather than relying on other people to make me happy and resenting them when they don’t, the only person who I am emotionally dependent on is me.
* I’m grateful for the years that have led me to the place I am now — including the hard times, mistakes, and heartaches.
* A strawberry with a candle in it is an excellent substitute for birthday cake.