Moments of 28

It’s my birthday week. Hooray for birthdays, right?! I don’t normally think much about my birthday, but I do love others’ big days and the fiestas and balloons and signing birthday cards. This year, I’m pretty excited to say, “so long, 28,” and “hello, brand-spankin’ new 29.”

Birthday week started out questionably, though. I was only at work a few minutes before I left to go down the street to Maggie’s apartment and made her wake up for a visit that went something like: “{Knock knock} … I don’t feel well … {frustration, tear, sniffle} … BUT, it’s birthday week … no one should have to go to the doctor on birthday week {scared & whining} … {then she comes out with a painted package. another tear} … Awww …

She got me a Birthday Week gift! So sweet! I love that she hand painted the brown bag wrapping. Inside were two cute little pins and a sweet friendship plaque by one of my favorite artists. I love it. And I think I might love birthday week even though it started out rough.

Today, while I rested at home, I looked back on the moments of 2010 and made a list of memories inspired by the moments that Kara records at I Just Might Explode at the start of every new year.

I have another list with photos to share later this week, but I thought I’d share part my list with you.

{Some} Moments of 28:

I remember sitting at a table in Mexico listening to two new mothers vent about about husbands and children and frustrations. They spoke in Spanish, but that’s when I realized emotions transcend language and culture.

I remember feeling scared as we zoomed through a red light at a Mexico City intersection because that was safer than stopping.

I remember sitting in the car in the Raley’s parking and making that decision and crying a lot because it was the first time I felt like there was a solution.

I remember how much it hurt to say goodbye to Ebony, the sweetest soulful Great Dane angel.

I remember — every day — how three other loving doggies warm my heart.

I remember how much I loved that we were camping by ourselves, but not loving the realization that sometimes I do like a man to do all the work.

I remember making rainbow-colored macaroni necklaces at Relay for Life and laying in the grass with Maggie and Amber and feeling wet from the rain.

I remember my grandma crying when she introduced me to her friend at the consignment store and shared the story of how I was her miracle baby because the doctors didn’t think my mom would be able to have babies.

I remember laughter and late nights in a camper art studio, sleeping on a camper cot, a vintage Thermos collection/obsession, terrariums and an indoor tent with glow-in-the-dark stickers.

I remember the day we floated in my pool until we were as red as those tomatoes we ate in caprese salad that night.

I remember laying in the grass at the dog park when the sun was all golden and the air was crisp. We made a daisy-chain headband and let the camera click away.

I remember a girl’s roadtrip in the heat of summer. Thrifting along the way. One night in Bakersfield. Palm Springs. Morning and night swims. Soulful conversations. Salvation Mountain. Lots of special memories.

I remember standing on the edge of that rock and see the shadows of other rocks under the water and I just couldn’t get the nerve to jump.

I remember sitting in the doctor’s office and being so nervous because it seemed so foreign and scary.

I remember feeling drugged as I opened my eyes in the passenger’s seat somewhere in Texas and seeing all of the bright pawn shop signs. I wanted to stop and take pictures, but I hadn’t slept in days and couldn’t speak, so I went back to sleep and pretended I’d dreamt it.

I remember sitting by myself in a strange city on the other side of the country, closing my eyes and feeling freedom but then a strange loneliness.

I remember the coffee with Mike after a day of museums and food and honesty and feeling sad it was the end of the day and we had to say goodbye.

I remember the first time I wound a roll of 35 mm film on a reel in a completely dark closet. Success.

I remember spending hours with a soulful man who lost his world to drugs and mental illness.

I remember staying at Maggie’s new apartment and walking around town at night and still saying things like, “I can’t believe you actually live here.”

I remember helping Cindy decorate her Christmas tree with vintage ornaments because I didn’t have a tree of my own.

I remember going back to the place I lived growing up and seeing the house changed and buildings torn down.

I remember pulling into the Monterey Whole Foods with Stacy and Maggie and laughing so hard that we couldn’t get out of the car right away.

I remember sitting with Luis at the coffeeshop, when we had to hold our feet up because we saw a mouse run across the room past us and under a couch.

I remember wondering what happened.

I remember taking Amber to the airport and waving goodbye, not knowing when we’d see her again.

I remember meeting my new niece for the first time and kissing her every time after.

I remember walking through Muir Woods and looking closely at the moss on the trees and banana slug on a bright green leaf .

I remember seeing my uncle working on his ranch a few months after he almost died from the cancer.

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3 Responses to Moments of 28

  1. k Elizabeth says:

    Happy Birthday Week!!! 🙂

  2. katyarich says:

    Feliz Cumpleaños ! from Spain…Happy Birthday!

  3. Maggie says:

    Aww, I love this post! I’m so glad I got to be part of your wonderful birthday week! It was soooo absurdly fun. I remember a lot of these moments too, especially learning so much more about you as a person simply by meeting your grandma and seeing where you grew up with your fam. And Ebony shoving her butt in my face. And enjoying caprese salad in vintage dresses in the heat of the summer! Can’t wait for more adventures in nice weather.

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