Thursday, May 22, 2008

thirty.

You're almost here.

I like you.

I'm excited to meet you.

I'm so ready to be you.

I grew my hair out for you.

I wanted to be all Cher (70's, NOT 80's) or Stevie or something for when you got here. What better time to settle into my (fake) inner-hippie-ness then at your arrival.

But who am I kidding, I'm not Cher or Stevie, or even Grace Slick, which is probably a good thing, I mean, I'm sure at least two of them have barely functioning olfactory systems (for one reason or another), and I like my nose, and the fact that I can smell with it.

So no, I'm not some 70's era gypsy. I'm just me.

And although its taken me a really long time to get to this point, I think I actually like me.

I like my life.

I like my husband. Well, ok, I love him. I like his beard.

I like my house (well, except for the fact that the grass requires mowing and geez, where did all these hand prints on the wall come from, doesn't someone clean up after these kids?).

I like the fact that I love my kids so much they drive me up the freaking wall. (THE SAND IS SUPPOSED TO STAY IN THE SANDBOX, YOU CANNOT WEAR IT)

I like this town. (Bon Jovi would say, I LOVE THIS TOWN, but how lame would it be to reference that? Oh, wait. I just did.)

I like my closet. Well, half of it. Not enough of it goes well my my pink and green cowboy boots.

I like my job, even though its more like jobs. Or projects? To-do's that never go away? Things that had to be done yesterday that I'll do tomorrow?

I like my family. Yes its true, I really like all of you, contrary to popular belief. I might even love a few of you. Especially those of you who have already sent cards and gifts (Just kidding, of course. You still have two days.)

I like my friends, my ladies (and guys too), who are awesome, who are some of the most amazing people I know.

I always thought I'd dread thirty, but the truth is, I can't wait. I've skimmed the questions. Now, I'm writing out the answers.

I'm not expecting anything mind-blowing, you know like getting struck by lightning at 5:02 am on Saturday morning "BAM. You're thirty! Now get out there and start acting like it."

Nope, I'm just glad to be here.

It ain't no sin to be glad you're alive.



and happy birthday to you too, Bob.

7 comments:

Randy said...

How about "WOW! You're OLD!"

Or maybe simply "Happy Birthday, Emily!"

I love reading your posts. You are a great writer.

Uncle Randy

jfarls said...

I like this blog :)

very well said for all those who turned or are turning 30. and again, thanks for the "old lady" talk yesterday. we really ain't that old, are we....just more appreciative.

Mandy Ray-Jones said...

Yeah, 30 ain't so bad. As a matter of fact, it's been the best year of my life so far.

Oh, and I like you.

Lee said...

Happy 30th, Emily. Don't kid yourself, 30 is not old at all. If you start thinking like that you'll make yourself old.

Oh, and I beg to differ about that sand thing.

shea brock said...

amen sista.....

dusty said...

Sorry I couldn't make it to your party!! My dad had surgery that day! Happy birthday, though!!

Jenkensing said...

You make 30 look so good! And I'm not joking...you look healthy, beautiful, content and smart. All of the best qualities that a women can have. I love you and I pray that this next year is extra amazing for you and your bearded man-beast. haha. I like his beard too though...but mostly in part because he brings me milkshakes.