24.

I'm 24 years old today. I know that's not "old" by anyone's standards, except maybe for a 5 or 6-year-old, but you have to understand, it's the oldest that I've ever been. So yeah, I feel old. My Grammy told me that by the time she was my age, she was married with one baby and had gone through at least three miscarriages. Thanks Grammy, I love you.

No, I'm not married, and no, there are no babies even close to being in the picture. No, I don't have a masters degree and I'm not debt free. I don't have a house, career, husband... shoot, I don't even have a dog! (With no husband or kids to clean up the poo, are you kidding me?!) And let's face it, I'm so NOT a cat person. So, I'm twenty-four, with an A.A. degree, school loans, credit card debt, car loan, and basement apartment. I don't know where I'm supposed to be in life, or what I'm supposed to be doing, but for the first time in a long time, I am happy. Not even just happy, I am content. I have the love of the most amazing man in the world, a semi-successful career as a photographer, parents who are proud of me, and the best siblings in the universe, and friends who are there for me no matter what. That's all I need. Really. Last year, as I've said before, was really the best year of my life, yet somehow, I feel like my twenty-fourth year is going to be even better. It's already been the best birthday ever, my boyfriend got me a cotton candy machine. Childhood dream come true!

AND.... he baked me a cake. From scratch. Happy birthday to me!