Birthday Post.

Note: This is one of those random blog posts that likely has no entertainment value whatsoever. Perhaps I'm being reflective. That must be what happens when I take a day off from work!

I painted my toenails pink. Power Fuchsia to be exact.

This is surprising because of the simple fact that I am decidedly not pink. Pink implies some level of cute-ness that I simply do not possess. For this reason I usually bypass all polish shades anywhere near pink.

I have to point out that cute has nothing to do with looks, it's a personality. My personality is more like a dark green, black, or even (big surprise) maroon. Pink? No way.

Pink people are just as comfortable in flowy white skirts as they are in jeans. They can throw a headband on still-wet hair and look, well, cute. They say things like "bless your heart" and have tiny little sneezes. They tell dumb jokes knowing full well that they are dumb, but also knowing that people will laugh anyway because the joke-teller is absolutely adorable.

I love pink people. I used to try so hard to be cute, and I felt somehow inferior to the pinks. I guess sometimes I still do. But for the most part I've become quite comfortable being the sarcastically humored, often grouchy, over-analytical, non-girly girl that I am.

It is for this reason that I usually paint my toenails almost black. Actual black seems much too cliche, so I always choose a brown or purple so dark that people think it's black. Of course I always know the truth.

But today I took the day off. I swore to do only things I wanted to do, and that's exactly what I did. After the kids went to school, I crashed on the couch and slept until 10:40. I had lunch with Trey, then coffee and some computer work at It's a Grind all by myself. I stopped at CVS for nail polish remover, saw some pink polish and thought "What the hell. Why not?"

I'll be thirty-two on Saturday, and I couldn't care less about putting another year behind me. I am as happy and fulfilled and comfortable in my skin as I've been in my whole life. Sure, losing twenty pounds and getting a shot or two of botox wouldn't hurt, but I've come to love my status as a work in progress.

Am I pink? Absolutely not. I love jeans a half-size too big, I have hair that must be tamed before being seen by the outside world, and I pack a beast of a sneeze. But I also have dear friends, a wonderful husband, and happy kids.

I am proud to finally announce that even the dark green girls turn out pretty well. Bring on thirty-two.