I can't believe I'm still awake. Actually, that's not true. I basically slept all day yesterday. But oh man it was worth a wasted Sunday of Wreck-It Ralph and shrimp rangoons and a cloudy headed Monday of realizing you forgot to DVR last week's Breaking Bad, yeesh.
Saturday night will go down as one of the most magical nights I've ever experienced. Maybe it was the fact that I was wearing a skirt from my prom dress (vintage 2001 pink ballgown) or maybe it was the fact that my parents were there experiencing it with me or maybe it was the fact that I spent 10 months with a committee working on planning this event and suddenly it came to life. It might be the henna tattoo talking, but I think this will go down as one of those nights I talk about for, well, for like ever. (Apologies to my future children. This will come up often.) This night was magic in the most non-cheesy, incredibly special, moment you never forget way. I loved every second of it. Every flippin second of it. I feel myself goofy grinning just writing about it. Big grinning.
But back to life lessons. It is the 23rd of SEPTEMBER. September, man. That means it's really fall and I have to start thinking about how to layer again. And that means I get a little stressed in the morning worrying about tights and boots and sweaters. But a lot has been learned over the last 30 days, a lot. Most of it is about my limits, my expectations and about healthcare. Here's what we've got:
1. Being a grown up and sharing a big night with your parents that you planned for 10 months makes you cry a few tears of pride, joy and gratitude. When I was 13 I got a report card and parent/teacher conferences. As a grown up I get face time and Christmas. To be able to share a night I worked so hard on with my parents was marvelous (that's not even the right word but stay with me on this) experience far better than being valedictorian. I got to share my favorite place in my city with my favorite people. Mom and Dad (I'll send you the link so you can read this): I can't say thank you enough. For everything.
2. The West makes even the tallest of ladies feel small. The mountains and sky and wide open space take your breath away.
3. Proper style matters.
4. You are never, ever, ever to old for the inflatable bouncy slide.
5. Asking for help is ok. Not just ok, but encouraged. People want to help. (I'd help you with anything.) People are kind and often good listeners. Asking for help is ok. Even at 30.
6. September holds all kinds of memories for me. Ones of strength and awesomeness and poise. I wish every day could be that soaked in promise and unexpected confidence. After reading this article (and getting overly gushy in this post) I'm convinced it's all about convincing yourself you have the power to make things happen. I probably should have known that by the time I reached 120 days into 30, but sometimes it's too damn hard to admit that only you can control you and your feelings and your reactions and, in some ways, your fate. Being a grown up is tough. There's responsibilities. But I fell in love with September. Two years ago I was smitten with September and the universe showered me with little joys, and big moments. (Hey Kev. Our first date was in September. Aw.) 120 days in I've decided to own the other 245 (ish) days left in my year. I mean, the good comes to those who make the good. That must be the truth.
Thank you to everyone who joined me Saturday night. And thanks, in advance, for letting me ask you, people of the world, for help. You are super.