Jeff told me once that he read somewhere our cells completely regenerate every seven years; if that's true, every seven years we turn into a completely different person, because our cells are all refreshed, reborn, renewed.

Well, my recent birthday was a multiple of seven - okay, I admit it, I turned 35. And in many ways, I do feel like a completely different person. Physically, I've lost weight, so I look different - my face, the way clothes fit. It has taken me a while to get used to that stranger in the mirror.

Mentally I'm different in that I can't hide uncomfortable feelings or truths from myself anymore. I used to be able to hide feelings from my conscious mind, as if I put them in a nice box, wrapped a bow around it, and put that pretty box into a messy closet. From time to time I'd look in the closet, see the box, remember what was inside - and then put it out of my head. A very nice coping strategy for certain situations, but I can't use it anymore. Certainly makes things more "interesting" than ever before.

Still don't have what I want, but do I really know what I want? I don't own a home - but do I want to buy a home in a place that I don't love, where the heat, pollen, and the humidity make me miserable? On the other hand, how could I stand to leave my friends and family? Wherever would I go, whatever would I do?, to quote Scarlett.

I'm still the gawky, tall girl who lives to make people laugh, who's strong enough to be her own (strange) person and not care what other people think, who has her bundle of insecurities. Disorganized, a procrastinator, cranks the music up in her car on the long ride home. Good at bargain-hunting, artsy-fartsy, kind to animals.

Well, thanks for listening. I think I need a beer.