32

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About a month ago I told a friend that I thought I was in pretty good shape compared to most 32-year-olds. I realized my gaffe immediately, but it was too late. He was laughing and completely agreeing with me.

What was so funny?

I was only 31 at the time.

The whole scenario was pretty ridiculous, which brings me to today: my 32nd birthday. When I was 12 I thought 32 was sooooo old. Funny how living 20 more years can change a woman’s perspective. Now I believe 32 is actually quite young and definitely better than 22 because it takes about a decade in the “real world” to figure things out.

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So, anyway, I made it another year and decided to hit the beach after checking out some art galleries in Saugatuck, Mich.

The only thing I bought was a note card decorated with a tiny print of a floral painting by James Brandess. When we got home I put into the “32” journal. I bought the journal at yesterday’s K Studio sample sale and hope it will be filled will all sorts of cool stuff by the time I turn 33. I want to make this a good year.

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