I have to share something with you has absolutely nothing to do with travel. Not really, anyway. It’s a little narcissistic. I hope you won’t mind.
Ready? Here goes: It’s my birthday.
I know. I’m positively tickled. I love birthdays. Entire days dedicated to eating cake and wearing party dresses. It’s not unlike what I imagine heaven to be.
I suspect I might be in the minority here. I’ve met a lot of folks who absolutely abhor birthdays, and the inevitable aging that goes along with them, but that’s something I’ve never really minded. Every year I spend on this planet, things just seem to get better. After three decades, I’m really getting the swing of things. I now listen to NPR voluntarily, and not just because I’m trying to impress a boy. I’ve become quite adept at walking in heels. As the years go by, stinky cheeses taste better and better. And the Muppets now hold another level of humor that I never understood as a child (if you haven’t experienced this phenomenon for yourself, I highly recommend you rewatch The Muppets Take Manhattan. The puns! The double entendres! A cameo by a delightfully young and handsome Elliott Gould!) Plus, with adulthood, I’ve found I’ve almost grown into my nose. Not quite, but almost.