“One should never trust a woman who tells one her real age. A woman who would tell one that would tell one anything.” — Oscar Wilde, A Woman of No Importance.
Well, I’m not going to tell you everything, but I will admit that I am turning 42 this year. This, after all, is my meaning of life year. If you’re a Douglas Adams Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy fan you know what I’m writing about.
It’s an important number. And I’ve been waiting for this year for awhile. Who’s heard about the magic year? That’s the year that you turn the same age as the day you were born. Everyone has had one already by the time they are 31. Even those of you born on Leap Year. Mine was when I turned 6. Yeah. I’m sure I loved my birthday when I was six. But what did I know about magic years and this being the year where everything was supposed to be at its brightest?
Now, I’m turning 42. I may have missed my magic year, but I am not going to overlook my Meaning of Life Year. I’m hoping it means I’ll have a year in which everything about adulthood becomes clearer. Maybe even easier. Wouldn’t that be awesome?
You might say it’s only a birthday. I would remind you I am a person who is devoting a blog to birthdays. Think about it — I tend to have high expectations on my birthday. So why stop now at 42? It’s only just beginning!