So yesterday I turned 27 years-old.
The day itself, hell the entire WEEKEND was amazing. Meeting up with friends new and old, drinking, laughing, talking the night away…and even getting to spend time with the New Guy, Alan, who traveled all the way from Virginia to see me on my Birthday.
The gifts were WONDERFUL. Comics, music, a Samhain toy, Star Trek: TNG Season 4, a book on the collected works of Robert Crumb’s art on record covers, some beautiful flowers and the much-coveted Brooklyn Box Set, a set containing a signed copy of The Oxford Companion to Beer and a custom ale to go with it, only available at the Brooklyn Brewery’s shop in Williamsburg and paid for by my folks, graciously picked up by my friend Melissa and picked up by Alan who sent it to me. Gorgeous, gorgeous gorgeous.
But, and I usually think about this at the end of the year, where things seem a little more…significant to me, I can’t help but notice the outstanding change in me within only the past two years. I’m even thinking back to the times where I pushed people away. And now…it really feels that in the past two years I’ve come out on to my own and at least have gotten on the path of being someone I’m comfortable with. Add this to the selection of amazing friends I have and I really do count myself as an incredibly lucky person.
2009, as a lot of you know, was sort of a time of death and rebirth for me. Some bad shit happened, I broke down and just didn’t know what to do. Since then I’ve culled out the poisonous relationships, embraced the interests I was too nervous to embrace for fear of judgement while seeking out and getting in to all other new interests. I’ve become confident to a level I didn’t even think was possible, in part with losing weight and being less afraid in expressing my opinions.
And of course I’ve learned that by being myself and not compromising who I was in order to fit in, I have gained the respect and kindness from a mindblowing amount of people. That one shocked the HELL out of me when it started up. Being yourself works, who knew?
So yeah…25 was a good chance to get my feet in the pool. 26 was me swimming around the pool and getting a feel for the motions. And 27?
I get the feeling 27 will be the year to try my chances in the ocean.