I Like To Kick & Stretch & Kick! I'm Fifty! Fifty Years Old!

Dear 50-year-old me, Holy blast from the past, eh, Batman? it's me, your 30-year-old self. You still have the same email address? Nice to know that you've finally kept a commitment to SOMETHING. I kid, I kid. So Happy Birthday. Woo-hoo. You made it this far, chica, you're doing alright. I don't know what's happened in the past 20 years, so I don't want to make you *cry* or anything, but I hope that you're happy. Notice that I said HAPPY, not content. HAPPY. If you are, well congratu-freakin-lations! I was hoping it'd be like this. I really was. if you aren't, well, then I've just made you cry, huh? No seriously, if you're not, then why not? Do you not remember the immortal words of one Mr. Bob Marley? "Every little thing's gonna be alright." You know that things always work themselves out. & it's not too late for you. Right now, in 2005, there's this saying that "50s are the new 20s." Quite frankly, that pissed me off some cuz, well, I'm in my 30s & they just skipped right over me, but whatever. I'm a big girl; I can handle it. & so can you. You always have been able to weather big storms, kid. & here's a newsflash: for as much as you're reading this right now, thinking, "Oh man, the girl who sent this has no idea what's in store for her," I'm going to tell you this: Neither do you. So c'mon Nik, make me proud. Love you.