Proud to be an American

Proud to be an American: when I hear that phrase, I think of two things: Drop Dead Gorgeous and having to sing the song by that title in 8th grade choir (to which I still remember the alto part). 

It's good to be home for the 4th this year with my family and friends. Ian and I are celebrating with --surprise! -- a patriotic outfit that I most certainly didn't plan days in advance, picnics, and fireworks. I hope your holiday is full of these great things as well!

Happy fourth of July!



Every year on my birthday, I think back to what I was doing the previous year. Last year at this time, we had been without power for days after a huge storm. The year before that, I was making last-minute wedding preparations. My 24th birthday comes on a Tuesday, a week day where Ian is in Philly for a conference and I am enjoying a cup of coffee and the Today Show in a quiet house before I have to go to work. Over the years I have come to make less and less a big deal about my birthday. When I was kid, having a summer birthday meant no school and a whole day to do whatever I wanted. Now that I'm working, I understand how those kids felt who always had to go to school on their birthday. I could take a vacation day, but let's be honest, when you only have so many days to take off during the year do you really want to use a precious day when everyone else would be at work anyway? 

I've come to realize that celebrating birthdays aren't so much about what you do or how much money you spend, but rather about the people in your life who you spend it with and are thankful for every day. Ian and I celebrated a little early on Sunday with brunch at the Silver Diner and some shopping.

Please enjoy my sunburnt forehead, pulled back bangs, and expression of sheer joy at the fruity mimosa I was about to slurp down with a big-ass straw.

Here's to being 24, the exciting age before 25, which is the exciting age before 30.
OH gosh..............

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