32

I have decided that getting older gets a bum rap.

I have always liked my birthday even though I don't celebrate it. I love it. I love getting older. Another year that you have survived. More things you have learned and seen and experienced. Ultimately, it would mean more wisdom and inner peace and then the glory ages when you get to say whatever crazy thing you want and people just have to take it because you are old.

What I don't like is feeling regret. That I have aged so far and have done so little. Or that the little I have done has been a waste. Looking back at my life and seeing my mistakes and what I missed breaks my heart. And makes me plead for forgiveness.

Friday I turned 32. The weather was overcast and cool and it even rained a little bit which I like because it is usually overcast and rainy on my birthday. There were a few years in the middle when it was all day sunshine and it just seemed wrong. It was a pretty uneventful day except for me and the kabillion other people who also gained a year over the weekend, but it meant a lot to me.

I feel like it is unrealistic of me to think that this year I will become some other person or that I can have a some miraculous change. What I do want is to just keep trying to grow and become a more complete person. To figure out who I am and be that and have peace. So that when I get uber old, I can go to town on some fools.