28 Candles

I'm 28 today.

I wish this were a big, elaborate and meaningful post about how my life has changed blah blah. No. Here's my birthday in a nutshell:

I bought myself a strawberry cupcake and put candles on it. I blew them out and popped in The Emperor's New Groove. While I was at Michaels earlier (purchasing my candles), a very frail looking lady approached me in a frenzy. "You're wearing a hat! Just like I am!" Oh boy. Why me? I smiled at her and her green baggy cap sat crookedly on top of multi colored hair. She had huge dangly earrings, beads hanging from her hair and glasses, numerous necklaces and rings and every color in the rainbow on. She yanked my iphone out of my hand and tucked it in my pocket, then stuck her hand out so I could shake hers...I did. "My name is Mary Ann *** ***. Born and raised in Midland, TX". I couldn't help but smile, genuinely, at how I manage to attract characters. "My name's Yari. Puerto Rico." She started squealing about Puerto Rico and about our hats (I'm wearing a baseball cap), then said "I love that whole look you have going on. You look wonderful! So beautiful! Plus today is your day!" I was startled for a second. I didn't know this lady...what did she mean? I carefully said "Yeah, today's my birthday." She asked how old I was now. "28..." "Oh, I wish I could be 28 again...but I'm 49." "It's ok Mary Ann, 40 is the new 20." "YAY! Then I'm close to your age!" "You sure are. You look great too." She shook my hand again and told me to have a beautiful day. Just like that. The whirlwind that was Mary Ann flew out of my life as quick as it came in it.

So, if anything, I leave you with this. Sixteen Candles may have been true to a certain point. Sometimes birthdays aren't an event. Just another day. Oh man, and do they rarely end with you sitting in a dress on the kitchen table kissing your crush over a perfectly positioned, lit birthday cake. Sometimes you buy yourself a cupcake and meet an insane new person who you later realize is just like YOU, only 20 years older.

See you all again next year.

Goddammit: The Starbucks Edition

Today, Saturday July 14th, 2012...will be known as the day I will never be able to look at myself in the mirror the same way. Why, dear reader, have I lost a bit of my soul?

I'm out and about today, you see. Not doing anything in particular, really. I have my Nikkon D60 SLR camera out in case I see something amusing I just HAVE to pull over and take a picture of. I have a bathing suit I need to return at Old Navy, and regarding that all you need to know is that sometimes people do NOT need to see bits of me that should be forever hidden. I have big plans of using the money from the bathing suit (whopping $25) to buy soap, detergent, clorox and a broom. Hold back your obvious envy towards my insanely awesome weekend. I will clean. A lot. Then I'll play guitar or paint, while I answer calls from work. Living large. I know.

That, however, is not the point of this burst of words. Between returning my bathing suit and buying cleaning supplies, I had a marvelous idea. "Why don't I go by Starbucks and grab me a mocha coconut frappucino?" Innocent enough, right? Somehow the drive-thru idea turned into, "Hey, it looks empty inside. I'll just go in and grab it. AC is good in summer. No hipsters or obnoxious teenagers. Just me, my frap and a comfy chair to sink in..." Famous last words.

I brought my laptop inside, in case I got a work call. While ordering my drink, the barista excitedly interrupts and proclaims: "I LOVE your tattoo! It's so cute! Are you a music major?" I smile awkwardly and say, "No. I'm a guitarist." Her eyes get big and she continues, "OMG! ME TOO!". While my mouth and smile are saying "That's very cool...", my mind is screaming "No, honey, I can't afford to study music in that way. I just teach myself and hope for the best." I make my way to the lovely leather seat. To my right, on the very pricey coffee table, there is a rather large bamboo plant. I look up and there's two 15 year olds in almost no clothing, sitting indian style on the chairs and saying 'like' every other word during their conversation about a 'hilarious' trip to Walmart they endured. Behind them a dude with a very, very exotic sounding drink and in full on running gear browsing on his Mac. Behind him, a mildly buff Asian man in a pristine, albeit tiny, pearl snap shirt and Chucks that look like they've been steam cleaned and pressed before wearing. There's at least two guys in line with glasses and beards, identical arms crossed...bored expressions. To my left, a young man watching a Steve Jobs video on his Mac with gigantic Bose headphones on and a messenger bag by his feet that's worth more than my life up to this point (and I'm sure that's a $400 pen neatly tucked in the bag). Then there's me...

Drinking a frappucino...and on my Mac because I thought it would be hilarious to blog about what's around me...until I realized I've become THAT person. At Starbucks. With a MBP. Drinking something weird. Blogging. And while I SHOULD feel comfortable and like I finally "belong" with society's coffee hipster crowd, everything I own and/or am wearing while sitting here (including this device I'm typing on) has been gifted to me by people wanting me to be able to have something nice that I probably couldn't afford on my own. However, instead of feeling like a charity case or like I should try to finally blend in with people that merely look and act a certain way...I'm going to go ahead and give in and say, goddammit. I've become the Starbucks hipster crowd blogger. Just for today.

But I'm shutting this off now and heading back out. Because the sky is blue and the day is young. I want to enjoy the day the ways I always have and see what I can create away from a keyboard. I don't just have to be ONE thing. I'm defined by all my components.

P.S. If I start growing a beard and traveling around wearing Toms, please feel free to shoot me.

Says Who?

Says who?

I find myself wondering that a lot lately. I ask it of many things that are arising in my life for the first time and of things that I've always been told are a certain way simply 'because'.

In a week, I will be 28. I have no children. "Don't you want any? Shouldn't you get on that already?" I answer "Says who?"

I am a 28 year old woman. I enjoy, nay, LOVE wearing bright sneakers or shoes. Jeans. Tees. Everywhere. Unless you request that I dress up, I shall not. I do love boy shoes very much. There is no such thing as boy Jordans. There's simply Jordans. "So, you wear boy shoes? So you wear bright colors and childish attire? So you like comics and toys? Shouldn't you tone it down and start acting your age?" I answer "Says who?"

"I'll never make a living with art or an art degree. You need ambition. You need a career. You need to think ahead. Have a plan. Where do you see yourself?" Me? I see myself in a small house, with what I need, enough money to pay my bills, living my life. Get it? Living? Going out for a gd ice cream cone on a summer's eve? "That's not realistic. I couldn't see myself living like that. I don't see how you don't want more." I answer, "Says who? I want more. Just not what you want."

"You can't start over?" Says who.

"You are not being fair to others by putting yourself first. That's not reasonable." Says who.

"Not everything in life can be fun and relaxing." Says who.

"Life, love, decisions...are all complicated."

Says. Who.