My birthday is in a couple days, and I will be 37 years old. Saying it out loud is a bit of a shock since I don’t really feel a day over sixteen most of the time. I say most of the time because some days (and those days usually involve vast amounts of whiskey, karaoke and going to bed at dawn) I wake up feeling like a 80 year old woman who has been kicked in the head by a team of wild donkeys. I am definitely at the age where I can feel a hangover. But to my own credit, I have been there for a while. I really don’t feel 37. I don’t know what that is supposed to feel like, but I doubt it feels as good as I do most of the time.

But I guess I am not your average 37 year old woman. When you think of a woman in her late thirties I am not the picture that comes to mind. I live alone in a flat the size of a freshman dorm room. I make less money than most 24 year olds. I have no children and my breasts still stand at attention, thank you very much. I don’t own an iPhone or a car, and I don’t have a mortgage. I am not on a “career track” and money really doesn’t mean much to me. When I look at the people I graduated high school with and compare myself I see little in common. And I am okay with that.

A friend of mine recently posted this article on Facebook; “The Secret Regrets of Women in Their Thirties”. I was baffled. Either I am living life way better than the rest of the Gen X females, or women are just crazy. One woman said she regretted having what she called a “retaliation affair”. Ya think?! At what point did you actually think that was a GOOD idea? Another woman regrets the pain he caused her and now blames him for her selfish behavior and changed personality. A bunch of women regret “staying in it for the kids” – to which I say, a big fat DUH. Have you never watched Oprah or Dr. Phil? We all know that staying together “for the kids” is really being a coward and scaring the kids for life. I know. I was a kid once. But my favorite regret was a woman who regretted not doing “it”. And it was LIVING, taking chances and being in the world. She regrets not traveling and living in another country. She regrets the chances she didn’t take, and she is only 33. The same age I was on my first Prague Birthday.

I read that article and I smiled. I don’t have any regrets. And let me tell you something, I am one gal who could. Do I regret putting myself in massive debt to get a college degree (at age 30) from a school that has now gone bankrupt and no longer exists? No. I don’t. Do I regret moving to Mexico and losing said degree that seems I cannot replace? Nope. How about that marriage, regret that? Not at all. I don’t regret any of my past because as lame as it sounds, it made me the bad ass chick I am today. I don’t blame anyone for the choices I have made, or give them credit either. Good or bad, this life I lead is all mine. I know some people look at me and think, “What a mess! She needs to grow up.” Actually people have told me that. But, I am grown up. I have just made different decisions.

I am looking forward to 37 and the surprises it will bring. 36 sucked. I have every chance in the world to do what I want and be who I want. Yesterday,  while in my “Hangover Movie Marathon” I watched the film 127 Hours. (It’s about a guy who gets stuck with his arm in a rock for… 127 hours) I think this year when things seem bad I’ll remember that guy. I mean, it can always be worse. You might have to saw off your own arm to survive.


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