I turn 30 this year, which isn't really that big of a deal except that I think it satisfies Abigail's love for even numbers. I have to say I prefer 30 to 29. I say that not having yet turned 30 but as a 29-year-old, I often forget how old I really am. For whatever reason, I've not been able to get past saying I'm 28. It's not fear over getting older, not at all, it's just that I have this block in my brain that doesn't allow me to notice that time is passing. Sometimes things slip past this block, things like my friends having babies or becoming an aunt or buying a house, but most of the time I drift through life with no idea how long I've been in the world.
I don't know what will be different this year, not really. I'd be scared to guess, which brings me to my hopes for the year, I suppose. I hope to be braver. I hope good things for me and I hope great things for my friends and family. I hope to write more and travel more and maybe write about traveling more. I hope to meet some of you I've not yet met. I hope to see some of you I HAVE met, but who I haven't seen in far too long. I hope to be more active but save plenty of time for (quality) TV-watching. I hope to make good, informed decisions about everything from my job to what to eat for dinner. I hope to see my family and friends more often, hang out with Joe whenever possible, take Max on lots of walks, and...I guess just leave Phoebe alone, since that's what she likes.
Mostly, though? I hope that I stop this crazy bullshit habit I have of typing all blog posts into a Gmail drafts. Why do I do that? Google Docs is RIGHT THERE. Blogger is RIGHT THERE. Why do I type posts in Gmail drafts and risk losing them to the accidentally-hit-Discard void? Because that's happened before. Oh, yes. It's happened. And like most of my problems, it's due to my own stupidity. So I guess I hope to have less of that this year. FINGERS CROSSED.
One more thing. I hope to celebrate more milestones, both big and small. Milestones like this one: The Collective began four years ago (give or take some days), which is basically a high school amount of time, and not a day goes by that I'm not thankful to have found all of you wonderfully strange people. I love you weirdos. Yay!