the morning before I left idaho to return home to LA, I was enjoying a delicious breakfast prepared by my lovely sister and her lovely boyfriend. halfway through the meal, my lovely mother quickly got up from the table and returned holding one bright pink birthday candle. she lit the candle and stuck it into a rosemary breakfast potato sitting on my half-finished plate. my family sang me happy birthday while we all laughed at this loving gesture. I made a wish and blew out the candle exactly one week before my birthday.
tomorrow is the last day of my 28th year. it feels monumental. many a birthdays have passed without me giving them much thought. but this one is different. this is the kind where I feel impelled to shave my head or climb a mountain or buy a really nice bottle of whiskey aged exactly as many years as me. I find myself craving a campfire wreathed in the smiles of my loved ones. an island getaway. a big dance party where everyone dresses up as their hero. a poolside lounge at a desert nudist colony. shit, I don't know? something special. I think the point is my desire for the ritual. fighting for my rite of passage to party. a ceremony of sorts to celebrate who I've become, because quite frankly, for the first time in a long time, I am really proud of me. I've worked hard for that feeling and I want to embrace it while it's here, sing it a song, take a picture of it to hang on my wall. I'm not sure yet what exactly I am going to do on the 30th, but something tells me it is only the beginning of what is going to be a celebratory year (and life to come).