One More Candle and Trip Around the Sun

It's true. I've made it around the Sun one more time. I'm now 21.

21 is (I know I know) very young.

However, it cannot be denied as a landmark.

I think that despite 20 being the first age out of the teens, 21 is the first year of real adulthood.

Adulthood.

Yuck.

I am currently in the city of Angels. In an angelically beautiful, if swankily inadequate hotel.

(aka no continental breakfast. which I was counting on saving and eating for at least two of the days' meals.)

I am at an acting and theatre festival.

Ever get the birthday blues?

They're not even necessarily blues. The blues that, for a lack of a better term, make you feek vaguely discontent and squirmy inside, and all for reasons that you can't explain.

I had an emotional tearful outburst at the end of today, and for the life of me, I couldn't figure out why.

I had a beautiful day today. A group of BYU kids decided to go to Disneyland. I hitched a ride in the van and got picked up by my wonderful sister-in-law and niece and spent a wonderful day with them.

I saw dolphins, guys. Dolphins.

They said "happy birthday" to me. Kind of.

I don't know why birthdays incite such strange emotions in people. or maybe just me? I don't know. It maybe that I miss my family. It may be spending so much time with my niece made me emotional. It may be that leaving her made me sad. It may be that I miss my boyfriend. It may be that talking to a group of recognizable professional actors tonight in a Q&A made me question my fundamental fitness for the acting profession. And it very well may be that I dropped my wallet in the restroom of a Chevron gas station in Fillmore, Utah, while trying to avoid a very large puddle of vomit from a very small girl, and it had yet to come back to me in the mail, despite the assurance that it has been sent...

But I think, in addition to all of these things, my brilliant friend Mariah said that birthdays always feel weird because there's always an expectation of change, which never really happens. You never ever really feel different on your birthday. You always wake up thinking "I'm a year older, do I feel any different?" and then you never do, and then you always end up feeling vaguely dissatisfied with the day, however great the day was.

So, I had a good cry. A good laughy cry with big fat teardrops, and re-crys and big, frustrated hand gestures, and hugs. Then I went down to the beautiful gym on the fourth floor of the hotel, and ran really hard for 30 minutes. And then I felt like I wanted to throw up a little. And then I took a shower and got in my clean, white hotel-y bed and sat with my damp hair on my pillow, feeling refreshed, clean and tired, and wrote a badly written blog.

I feel better. I love so so many people of my life, family and friends, and cannot believe how well they take care of me, and deal with me, and love me. I am so grateful to them.

and happy birthday to me, saith the dolphins.