when is an apple an orange?
One week away from my birthday. I am getting old. 34. I can remember being a teenager and thinking: "Oh my god, so-and-so is 35, that is sooo old". Now that is almost me. Funny thing, I don't feel anywhere near old. I am still waiting for the day when I wake up and become an adult. I see glimmers, but I think deep down I am still 17 at heart. Part of me wants to celebrate like mad, the other part of me just wants to curl up and nurture myself.
On a lighter note: I got a part in the play I auditioned for. Not just a part, but the part I wanted! How cool is that? And the person I play opposite? Let's just say it is amazing how life imitates art sometimes. I have always maintained that my life is a soap opera. It can be true for this segment, and yet somehow, interesting and fun to look forward to.
News always travels late when you want to hear what it is. Feelings are never a good solitary reason for saying or doing things. Peoples hearts are delicate. The search is always for the joy. If so, why is there not more smiles than there are?
Pensive pre-birthday musings.
Things will be, and are, exactly as they are supposed to be.
On a lighter note: I got a part in the play I auditioned for. Not just a part, but the part I wanted! How cool is that? And the person I play opposite? Let's just say it is amazing how life imitates art sometimes. I have always maintained that my life is a soap opera. It can be true for this segment, and yet somehow, interesting and fun to look forward to.
News always travels late when you want to hear what it is. Feelings are never a good solitary reason for saying or doing things. Peoples hearts are delicate. The search is always for the joy. If so, why is there not more smiles than there are?
Pensive pre-birthday musings.
Things will be, and are, exactly as they are supposed to be.
posted by Juli | 1:05 am
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