I’m twenty-five today. Somehow, this seems big and significant. 


Me, third from the left, age eight.

Twenty-four was great: I grew in (and loved) my first big girl job, pushed myself physically through a 40-day yoga challenge and 10-mile race, celebrated my first year of marriage, and somehow worked up the guts to leave everything I knew as home and move across the world. 


Me and friends on my twentieth birthday. There’s no way that was five years ago.

Today, I have to admit that I do miss my little nook in Charlotte, NC a tad bit more than usual. It would be great to celebrate with old friends and my family.

Tonight Peter and I will take a picnic down to the Brisbane river and watch the nightly Brisbane Festival light show with some champagne. It’s a different kind of birthday in a different place. 


This difference has got me thinking about what I want to do in my twenty-fifth year of living. Here’s what I’ve got:

+    Scuba dive the Great Barrier Reef

+    Visit Asia (this is already in the planning stages! for late this year! eek!)

+    A half marathon

+    Visit the USA at least once

+    Really learn the mandolin, as in finger picking and graduating from power chords. 

+    Love unconditionally

+    Volunteer

There are many, many more things I want to do, some of which are still in the inception stages, and some of which seem too silly to put on this blog. (Being twenty-five and all, I realise that the internet is a big place.) I suspect this list may grow into a sort of challenge feature/life list, so stay tuned. 

[Things I’m NOT thinking about at twenty-five: cellulite, having kids, owning a house, wrinkles or being married to my job.]  Not that anything’s wrong with any of those things, they just don’t concern me yet. 

For now, here’s this. I’m off to enjoy my champagne and a place that holds the promise that this year just may be the best yet. 

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