Happy New Year

I turned 38 yesterday.  I don't know what that means.  38 doesn't feel old to me but the number sounds like an official Grown Up Get Your Shit Together age.

When I was 24 and imagining what my life would look like across the pages of so many journals I don't think I planned this far out.  By now I was supposed to be done figuring out what I wanted to be when I grew up.  I was supposed to already know that by now.

When I was 24, I was untethered and the world was still just an idea. 

I imagined I was going to meet him at a black tie charity event.  He would watch me from across the room.  He would be mesmerized by how I seemed to know everyone yet he couldn't place me.  He would have the guts to engage me in conversation.  We would hit it off.  Bliss would follow.

We were going to be the power couple around town who threw incredible fundraising parties at our house.  On the water.  Our children, a girl (Easton) and a boy (Charlie), would be adorable, popular, two years apart (duh) and suffer none of the slings and arrows from being the new kids in town.  Because they would have cousins.  For some reason being cousins with people in Pleasant Valley makes you instantly cool.  Maybe other places too.  My parents were only children; I don't have any experience with cousins.

Anyway, He would do something that required a tie during the day.  I would do something that involved charity work and fabulous lunches.  At 24 I decided I wanted to be a Real Desperate Housewife.  And so help me...I got so close.  Be careful what you wish for.

Now.  Now I'm 38.  Divorced.  So incredibly single it's shocking even to me at times.  I have the two adorable kids and the charity work resume in my corner.  But not so much the power.  Or...maybe a little with the power?  Apparently word is spreading about the high school reunion party I'm spearheading and even though I haven't seen the ticket sales spike via PayPal yet...word on the street is that it's gonna be off the hook.  HA!

*ahem*

So.   Now what?  What does the world have in store for me this next trip around the sun?  What do I have in store for the world?


If I'm voting?  I say love interest.  Although my friend Audrey thinks this will kill the blog.  She doesn't want to read about me getting all schmoopy with some dude.  I'm pretty sure I wouldn't want to read about that either so I don't think a love interest would kill the blog.  In addition to providing regular sex (and by "regular" I mean "frequent" rather than "predictable, obligatory and/or godforbid boring"), whatever dude I date would have to be thought inspiring and since thinking is what we do best around here, I'm guessing that would only HELP the blog.  Close your eyes and help me blow out the candles, Audrey.  Everything is possible.

Otherwise, and this has nothing to do with the love interest thing, I would like my X to not die.  I'd like to have a better relationship with my sisters and my dad.  I would be thrilled if the kids had a good year in school that involved a hell of a lot less parent/teacher conferences and flipping over furniture around the house.  And I want my friends to excel.  That would make me happy.  And maybe to jump out of a plane again.  That was awesome.  And another killer fundraising event to plan after the reunion is over.  Because I'm going to need another project.

Oh, but also...I gotta share this.  My Vice Minion for the reunion planning, who I think I promoted to Vice Cohort after the last meeting, dropped off a birthday present the other night.  

The accompanying email:

When I saw this book it reminded me of you in the inverse manner of course. [...]  The iconic 1970 book is funny in itself while a little scary like some of those black white clips on how treat your husband when he comes home from a hard day at work...which you would be great in that role.........
only if Tarentino was directing.

I have to admit, that made me a little misty.

So.  Anyway, here we are.  Internet connection restored.  No foreseeable checking out from le blogosphere anytime soon if fingerscrossed all goes well.  I missed you.  Thanks for being here.