I know this much is true

I spent last year's birthday, my golden, in New York City. I was with my mom and sister apartment hunting, but on my birthday I did all things epic New York, including dancing on the big piano in F.A.O Schwarz, breakfast at Tiffany's, dessert at Serendipity's. I wanted the day to always stand out in my mind. I mean, every year I am a birthday toot, for sure, but turning twenty-five on the 25th in my city felt somehow much more important and significant.
I remember saying to myself, and probably my fam that this was my year. This is it, I reaffirmed multiple times. This year will be different. It will be different in life, in love, career, pursuit of happiness--different.

I was right.
I did a lot that I am particularly proud of this year: Changed my life in a most profound way, found the me that was lost somewhere in the depths of a very turbulent sea, realized I was strong, much stronger than I ever comprehended, fell in love, and moved to New York City. All of this in a year's time. Turning twenty-six this year, I wanted far less in the way of a birthday spectacle, which is saying something.
And I think I might have had an even more perfect birthday than my New York birthday, because I felt so serene and satisfied having gotten my wishes from the previous year. But of course going forward, being a dreamer and a doer, I made more wishes on my twenty-six candles. I can't tell you my big wish, because I am superstitious and then well, it might not come true, but I can tell you my aim for this year--my year ahead in New York.

I know this much is true:

I want to feel strong. I cannot tell you how many times I felt overwhelmed and terrified during workouts this past year, but after the worst of 'em I felt strong. And let me tell you somethin--that is one of the best feelings I have come to know.

Along those lines, I want to become somewhat of a CrossFit princess. Gosh, CrossFit does something to me. It goes along with that feeling strong business, but more than that I want to challenge myself. I want to dead lift and squat and get some sick muscles. I just do.

I want to see a lot of live music. This is a priority and will not be considered a luxury by me anymore. It does something to my soul and makes me forget about stress and bills and overeating and my still somewhat flawed body image issues. There aren't many things that can make me forget all that, so I am grasping onto this one with ardor.

I need to go after my writing with a wild and unrestrained passion the likes of which I haven't pursued it before. This past year I unleashed that fervor on my body and while that is still a battle I am fighting and will continue to fight, I need to also consider that yes I deserved to figure out how to love myself, but I also deserve to do what makes my heart sing. And that would be getting a paycheck for my words. I am making that happen this year. It is no longer out of the realm of possibility.

And I think it goes without saying, but I am going to say it anyway, I want to explore the shit out of NYC. I want to know intimately alleyways and blues clubs, bookstores and coffeeshops, avenues and architecture, museums and parks--in short, I want to make love to this city. And I want to adventure like mad. Boston, Maine, DC, Alaska, maybe a lil jaunt to Scotland or something. I don't know, but as my late gramps would say, you bet your boots, adventure-ing I will be.

And I want a dog. I think this is the year of the dog. Humphrey? Are you ready for my love?

Hmmm. Perhaps, perhaps.

At any rate, if last year's birthday vehemence and belief of greatness set the tone for what was to come and it far surpassed my wildest expectations then this year should be just grand grandiosity.

Right? Right!