one day older

I'm one day older than yesterday, but legally, I'm also one year older. What have I learned since yesterday, if age purports to engender wisdom? Well, I've learned that when you start drinking at 1 pm, you have to continue on a steady but moderate pace. If and when you stop, you will be down for the count. I've also learned that I might have a chance with Karma, because I woke up to birthday weather that was out of this world. Sunshine and fresh powder all day. Like the dreams you have where every track is fresh, and the sun is glinting through the trees in the glade, waxing golden on your ride as you float along. Except this dream was real. I've learned that a drive through liquor store is probably one of the best innovations that I've discovered recently. We drove up after dinner and the birthday girl simply rolled down her window, ordered three tall boy Pilsner singles and some shooters. No getting out of the car, going into the cold cooler, showing ID or anything. AWESOME. And lastly, I've learned that unlike my first birthday away from home when I cried like a baby in my dorm room- age has mellowed me out and I was cool with the chill day that I had yesterday.

Three things I'm grateful for as a 24 year old, so far:
1. Powder, sun & beer
2. An awesome father, who as described in the words of dude at the hill; "It's pretty cool that your dad is willing to get crunked to celebrate your birthday". Well said.
3. That the rest of my family, maxing, relaxing and chilling by the pool in the Canary Islands, put down their drinks to give me a call and tell me they were thinking of me on my birthday.

waking words

Sometimes in the twilight before I fall asleep or the dim mornings when I float between dreaming and waking, words threaten to overwhelm any potential sleep. Sentences run behind my eyelids, begging to be spilled on to a page or be typed out and read. I used to give in, but lately, I let it torture me, editing with my eyes closed, turning over variations of sentences and words in my brain. Then it's lost. In the waking world, the dream-like magic has disappeared, and they're just words again, not beautifully cadenced sentences singing like music to me and painting beautiful visions behind my closed eyes.