Last week, I got a Christmas card from my financial adviser, which I thought was ridiculously funny. It’s like I’m a grown-up–I have a retirement account and a financial adviser and she sends me holiday cards! I got it in the mail the day before I turned 28, which actually means that I’ve been an adult for ten years, and I have insurance and full-time job and I’m allowed to go into stores with expensive items all alone (I still get a kick out of that, too), and I have a legitimate retirement account, even though I don’t even open the statements that arrive periodically because I don’t understand them and I just stick them in my File Box of Important Things. This is my life!

My life at 27 wasn’t super-amazing. I mean, it was actually a good year, but it wasn’t easy nor was it full of rainbows. It was the start of my Saturn return, and when it became apparent that Saturn was not fucking around, I was kind of glad I was aware of the astrological situation and I surrendered to it a little bit, figuring that what happens happens, and it’ll end up working out. I kind of hoped it might be a year-long process and wrap itself up by the time I turned 28, even though I knew that it wouldn’t be that tidy.

I’m only four days into 28, but so far, I’m doing alright. Actually, I’m amazingly blessed, is the only way to describe it. The day before my birthday, along with getting the card, I got a promotion at work. Today was day two of the new job and among other things, I sorted through resumes and called applicants to interview with me (me!), I signed my name to a document that had a blank for my signature next to my new title, and when I started to find a manager to approve something, I realized that I’m a manager who can approve something.

I had my birthday off (I don’t think I’ve ever worked ON my birthday) and I went home to hang out with my parents, two of my three absolute favorite people in the world (my brother is the third). We dined on all the food I love, my dad bought me pumpkin spice coffee to be French pressed, we shopped, had lunch at a Thai place, I opened gifts and ate canolis (another birthday tradition), and I read the newspaper and did crossword puzzles, and it was wonderful. I only left because I had to be back in Atlanta for yoga teacher training where the group sang happy birthday to me and we crafted malas together.

Sunday was the last day of yoga teacher training. We had a five and a half hour-long graduation ceremony during which we chanted, shared something with the group (that was the assignment: share something), hugged, cried, and celebrated. I planned on being happy with subbing a few yoga classes, but I already have a prospect for teaching a class of my own.

Tonight, my parents came to visit me. I turned on my heater and Christmas music and we put up my little Christmas tree, garlands, seasonal tchotchkes, bows, a wreath, paper cut-outs, and an advent calendar. My mom brought dinner and the three of us sat around my teeny tiny kitchen table in my teeny tiny kitchen, my dad in my real chair, my mom in my camping chair, me on a yoga ball, Ramona meowing around our feet, and plates balanced on our laps. It was incredibly delightful and beautiful and I keep typing a little bit and then looking up to admire my apartment.

Really, I keep admiring my life. I didn’t turn 28 and magically have great hair (I saw a photo tonight and said, “It looks like THAT?!) or magically become graceful (yesterday as I sat down on the toilet, I hit my head on a towel rack and worried for hours that I had a concussion), but I turned 28 and was reminded of how very, very fortunate I am.


Photos by mi madre

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