Five -- Twenty Two -- Eighteen -- Fifty Nine

In less than twenty four hours I will have been breathing oxygen on this planet for thirty three years. That seems like quite a bit of breathing. I suppose I could make some sort of attempt to calculate the amount of breathing that has occurred during this time. But even with my seemingly ingenious mathematical calculations it would be necessary to adjust for the amount of time in which breathing did not occur during the whooping cough incident of 2005-2006.

And I realize that I have not actually posted a summary of the whooping cough incident of 2005-2006. However you may rest assured that such a post is forthcoming. And if such a post is not forthcoming then I am most certain that Soy's whooping cough incident of 2005-2006 post is forthcoming and I will provide a link to his post upon completion. I imagine that anything he might post would be quite similar if not identical to my own experiences.

But this post is not about whooping cough. This post is about other aspects of me that do not involve coughing or whooping. And given that I have successfully survived yet another year on this planet I thought that perhaps I should post my year in review. And then I realized that I don't want to look back. I want only to look forward.

So I have decided some things. I have decided to make a list. Those of you who know many of my dirty secrets -- and there aren't many of you who know such secrets about me -- know that I am and perhaps always will be a list maker. Fine. This isn't exactly a dirty secret. So called dirty secrets will be reveled in the proper time and the proper place with the proper company. But I digress. So. I am a list maker. Unfortunately I am also a bit absent minded and eccentric at times so I tend to lose or otherwise misplace completed and partially completed lists.

Neverthless I have decided that I am going to make a list of all of the things that I want thirty three to be for me. And the things that I want to accomplish in my thirty third year of life. It seems appropriate. And in case you were wondering I am not going to post my list here as it is a work in progress. But perhaps I will post a few bits and pieces of said list.

But rather than toss out random thoughts I want first to say something else. Let me tell you why I am happy about turning thirty three. Because I wasn't always happy about it. I think that we (read: women) are taught that we are less than we once were as we age. This is sad and unfortunate and I want to assure all of the younger women that this is simply not the case. The more time I spend on this planet the happier I am with who I am and the less I am concerned with what others think about who I am. I have no desire to be twenty or twenty six or twenty eight ever again. I feel that I am finally reaching a point in my life in which I am content with myself and my path.

I am not the person I once was. Most certainly not the person I was at twenty four. Definitely not the person I was at twenty nine. Hell. I am not even the person that I was last month. Instead I am someone who is more at peace with her self and her life. I am more clear about what I want and what I do not want. And I am less willing to compromise myself than I once was not so very long ago. I am willing to admit my flaws. And most certainly there are many.

However I am also willing to admit the ways in which I am not flawed. And sometimes this is surprisingly more difficult. So things are changing. I am no longer willing to censor myself for anyone. I cannot bring more than those who supposedly care about me are willing to bring to me. I can no longer give enormous amounts of my energy to individuals in my life who are not open and honest. Loving and courageous. Interested in who I am. Supportive and encouraging. Willing to tell me that I am wonderful and willing to call me on my bullshit. I am willing to work through everything that I am afraid of and you must be too.

I have been told that I am too loud. Overly affectionate. Too opinionated. Way too sarcastic. Overly talkative. Vague. Too much of a bitch. Once I was told that I was a facist dictator. Too flirtatious. Fickle. Trite and cliche. Overly emotional. Not emotional enough. Too distant. Too clingy. Condescending. Confusing. Not good enough. Insensitive. Too sensitive. Not attractive enough. Vain. Just too damn much.

I say that I may very well be or have been all of these things. I am also intelligent. Funny. Beautiful. Talented. Kindhearted. Compassionate. Generous and giving. Friendly. Loving. Affectionate. Sexy. Articulate. Silly. Strong. Passionate. Honest. Helpful. Magically delicious. I smell good. Delightful. And I dig a mean hole.

It amazes me how we find it so easy to either say unkind words to each other (or to ourselves) or to just remain silent about how we really feel about one another. Sometimes I think that the silence is worse. I know that time is short and life is precious. And I cannot be certain how much time I have left on this planet. I can be certain that I have a choice in what to do with that time. And so do you.

I wish to live my life balanced in a way that is appropriate for me. I will keep you posted on my successes as well as my failures. In the meantime I can only hope that those of you who have personal relationships with me in one form or another choose to make every interaction with me full and complete as if it could be our last. Please don't hold back. For better or worse. Let us not go out with a whimper.

My goal is to do the same with you.