I am 37 going on 13...

I turn 37 Monday, it's amazing to think I've been on this earth for 37 years.

It doesn't seem 20 years ago that I was kicked out of my high school newspaper class because I threatened to eat my teacher's baby (I was REALLY mad at the time, obviously). It doesn't seem that long ago that going out before 9 p.m. was unheard of, the bars in Pullman didn't get going until at least 10. Now going out after 9 p.m. seems like Russian roulette, "can I stay awake long enough?"

I can't drink as much beer, or gin, or vodka or other crazy concoctions I would purchase for $1 on dollar well night at Shermer's. I can't stay up late, or sleep in. I can't eat a plate of pizza bites dipped in ranch dressing for dinner, or breakfast. I can't do shots of tequila, with or without the maraschino cherry. I can't even think of functioning if I have a hangover. I can't drink bad beer, sorry Natty Light.

I can't seem to live on $600 a month--that included rent, gas, alcohol, food and entertainment. I can't sit in front of a TV on Tuesday morning eating donuts and drinking coffee while watching Charlie's Angels and WKRP reruns. I can't go out all night, get a few hours sleep and still get up to go to work and be productive. I can't let a messy bed go unmade. It's funny how getting older has refined my need for tidiness and cleanliness, ask any college roommate I had and they'll tell you that was never much of a concern of mine.

What doesn't seem to change as I get older is the fact that I don't seem to mature much beyond 13. I like to call it child-like as opposed to childish. Life is too short to be too serious all the time, although it could be argued I should be serious sometimes.  Maybe I'll work on that.

Probably not.

When I turned 30 I wrote a list of things I wanted to do in my 30th year. Here is one page from that list that when I read it the other day made me tired just thinking of what it would take to do all of this.

The list was huge, mostly unobtainable and oft influenced by others interests instead of my own intrinsic wants and desires. So, to make up for that crappy list from seven years ago here is my list of lofty things to do in my 37th year:

1. Learn to make cheese
2. Complete more triathlons
3. Beat my current PR on a 5k
4. Stretch more
5. Grow a vegetable garden (raised beds already made!)

6. Watch less TV
7. Read more (I'll even try more fiction)
8. Be a better friend
9. Be a better daughter
10. Be a better girlfriend
11. Say "yes" more (and yes, that makes me giggle just re-reading it)

Not so lofty, huh? I've decided that making quantifiable goals keep me from taking a U turn when it is presented that may lead to something amazing, or not so amazing. But how would I have known either way if I didn't take the chance in the first place? When I was in high school one of my mom's good friends, Barb, told me that making goals just keeps you from doing all the fun things you'd miss while you were too focused on making it to that one specific event. Besides, wouldn't you rather just enjoy life as it comes at you?

Um, yes. And I think I've lost some sight of that.

I'm going to spend the next year trying to let a lot of things just be. Just be what they are. Be who they are. Be who I am.

I am going to spend the next year entering 38 better than I entered 37.