circus peanuts: the breakfast of champions

Thanks so much, friends, for all the birthday wishes. I felt very loved in the blogging community yesterday. And yes, I did in fact eat circus peanuts for breakfast -- thanks ya! They were luscious, and you better believe it started the day off right.

Yesterday marked the 27th year of existence for me, and what a fantastic 27 it's been. Yesterday was great -- right after school I went to Barnes & Noble to get Jane Austen's Persuasion (more on that below) and to Sephora for my free birthday gift (vanilla cupcake bubble bath!). Last night, all my favorite Birmingham people gathered for a fun wine and dessert soiree. It was a blast. I so missed all my out of town favorite people, though. Here's one of few pictures from the night. The button I'm wearing says "Rock Star," in case you're wondering.
I've been thinking about being 27 a lot lately, and it's funny -- my dear friend Kate and I, ever since we met back in 2000, have believed that 27 would be/is an all around magical year.

I think we just liked the way it sounded. But, now that it's here, I've given it a lot more thought, and my conclusion is that it has to be better than any age, yet.

The fact that I can eat circus peanuts for breakfast (and Swedish fish for lunch) whenever I want and not feel like a freak (even though I might actually be one) is reason enough.

I have a few thoughts on being 27, and I'd like to share them. Here they are, in no particular order.

1. I have never read any of Jane Austen's novels, and I've decided this is the year. I think 27 is the perfect age to appreciate her writing in all its veracity and wit, and so I am beginning with Persuasion, her last published novel. I'm starting with this one because it was published near my birthday, and Anne, the novel's heroine, is newly 27 at the beginning of the story. (She's also considered a spinster, but we'll overlook that part)

2. 27 is going to be good, because, and I'm directly quoting Kate on this one...it just sounds like a good age, and "You're old enough to have a system of independence that works, and young enough to do and be whatever you want, and be hot doing it." Right on.

3. Turning 27 means that...and I want you to understand how much it hurts me to say this...

I am probably not going to be famous.


More than likely, turning 27 means I have missed the train to stardom. As of yesterday (but not a day before, mind you) it's a safe bet I can go ahead and cash in the change in the "Money for California" jar for new socks.

4. I need more sleep at 27 than I've ever needed before. I know some of this has to do with chasing 8th graders around all day, but most of it is probably because I just don't have the energy to stay up dancing to "Colors of the Wind" like I used to. You like that, msk(s) and Mere?

5. It's been 10 years since I was 17. Wow.

6. Since I was Pippi Longstocking as a child, I wonder if Pippi would be like me as an adult?

7. Many mornings, I wake up with creaky joints and a sore back. This has not always been the case. Turns out, I'm not Tuck Everlasting. But there's something charming about the cycles of life, and I'm glad to be feeling it a little bit.


8. I am now older than Uncle Jesse in Full House. It's true. The immortal hair gelled crooner was 26 on the show. This marks birthday significance if ever there was any.


That's all, for now. Here's to life and being 27.