The One Where I Turned 24

I had always wondered at what birthday I would stop being excited about turning another year older. Well...this year I had the answer. It was 24. The big 2-4. AKA just another day on the calendar. Sad, but true. I am a big fan of birthdays. Always have been. Especially mine. And other peoples. I just really enjoy making someone feel special on their special day. I want to make other people's birthdays as exciting and special as I think mine should be. Not so much this year, though. Normally, I have a little countdown going. The day before, I repeatedly ask the husband if he knows what tomorrow is. I'll be honest, I am generally very annoying for the week or so leading up to my birthday. One positive thing about not getting excited about my birthday is that I was markedly less obnoxious, I will say.

I'm not really sure why I wasn't excited. I think it's because 23 still sounds young and cool and hip and by the time you're 24, you've started using words like "hip" and are so not. Sigh. My actual birthday (which was Saturday) turned out to be nice, uneventful day, though. I went and got a pedicure with my MIL and SIL, and went back to the in-laws for my favorite dinner - tequila lime chicken and a white-on-white birthday cake with sprinkles. Yum. My family couldn't come up to celebrate on my actual birthday, but I am hopeful that we will be able to do something over my sister's spring break.

On a slightly related note, I am slightly amused/slightly irritated at the fact that people think I am 12. Seriously. This happens a lot. Every time I go to get my nails done, they comment that I "look way too young to be married." Actually, I went on Sunday to get French shellac done on my nails (which look FANTASTIC, by the way) and I had another encounter like this. Keep in mind, I am legitimately 24 years old at this point. The convo with the high-school receptionist went like this:

Girl: "When I saw you walk in and I saw your ring, I thought - this girl doesn't even look like she's old enough to be legally married."
Me: (awkward smile) "Well, I am."
Girl: "I bet you get that all the time, don't you?"
Me: (glare and look away)

Okay, not really. I didn't really glare. I just awkwardly smiled as she proceeded to tell me what a compliment that was. The real kicker to this is that people think my 17-year old sister is older than me. I will recap a particular instance for you so you can see how serious this problem really is - Becca and I walk into a store in the mall after a long day of Christmas shopping (read: I am cranky).

Sales clerk: "Oh, you two must be twins!"
Me: "No, we're not."
Sales clerk: "Well, sisters at least."
Me: "Good guess." -- (okay, I wasn't this rude, I promise, but it makes for funnier dialogue when reading)
Sales clerk: "Let me see if I can guess who is older..." stands with finger tapping lip, thinking for 30 seconds... "You?" points to Becca.
Becca: giggling hysterically. She loves this.
Me: "No, I am. By 6 years." (storms away) -- okay, again. I didn't really storm away. I am much too polite for this, but I just want to emphasize for you what I was feeling internally.

Anyways, I'm not really sure why I just went off on this random tangent. It was on my mind, and talking about birthdays...I don't know. The dots connected in my mind. I am done. No more rambling.

And now, a few pictures that don't really relate at all to what I just wrote about - except to prove to you that I DO look older than my baby sister.

Becca and Jess