Don't Stop Thinking About Tomorrow

No need to worry, everyone. I'm fine.

I had a bad day. Yes. And I welcomed a not-so-welcomed-but-pretending-to-welcome birthday. The big 3-0.

Don't you know it wasn't so bad? I'm 30. I have a fantastic life.

I'm 30. I have a wonderful boyfriend who loves me beyond all I've ever known.

I'm 3o. I have a house that I love more that I could ever imagined.

I'm 30. I'm sitting in my kitchen writing a blog post listening to a television rebroadcasting of the Democratic debate, which I didn't watch, in Spanish. Yes, Spanish.

I'm definitely 30.

So, life is good. Life is all around good. I'm happy. I'm healthy. I'm in a good place.

I missed my Dad today, but what's more is that I looked forward to my evening with Dave, with phone calls from friends, with my life. My life as it is.

And my life is good. After all, I have this amazing life. An amazing life with Dave.

According to the Ramone's, Sheena is a punk. A punk rocker.

And according to the picture below, Dave is definitely the punk.

I, according to Dave and a few other friends, am apparently not.

Gotta love the guy. Far from punk, but pretty damn good nonetheless.
L.