Overwrought

So . . . that last post was just a touch overwrought don't you think? Sorry, I get that way sometimes when I'm writing letters, emails, blog posts . . . I just sort of get carried away with the words. Not that I don't mean them, but . . . yeah, just a little over the top. What's worse is that post was a re-worked version of an email I'd sent. I mean, can you imagine getting that out of the blue in your inbox? (If you're my friend or relative, chances are you don't have to imagine because at some point or points you've received something equally ridiculous.)

Of course I don't REALLY think I won't make new old friends. I'm just impatient. It takes forever for acquaintances to turn into old friends and I'll be in my mid-30s at least by the time anybody I know in Idaho reaches that stage. And, well, my birthday is coming up very soon, and I'm turning 31, and while I'm mostly very content with my slow transformation into the 75 year-old woman I was always meant to be, it's still a weird age to be hitting me with my life so up in the air so you'll have to excuse me if I mildly freak out a few times over the next week. And . . . none of the people I'm meeting now will ever know what I looked like without grey hair and crows feet! Although, given that I started going grey when I was 21, there are only a handful of people who will remember that me. So I'm just going to have to get over that.

Speaking of new people, I had dinner with a group of the "spa girls" last night. The "spa girls" are sort of whispered about at the resort. They're fun and loud and beautiful and they're tight and protective and take care of each other. And it was great and fun and we talked about relationships and babies and haircuts and there was no pettiness or competition or one-upsmanship. Just unconditional support and love and a lot of laughter. And it was very very different from the dinner that sent me spiraling last Saturday.