It's my birthday.

I'm just a little nostalgic today.

This birthday was off to a rough start. Having a July birthday, I've never had to go to school on my birthday. When I was younger, this was a major cry fest pity party. ALLL of my friends got to have their birthdays during the year and bring cupcakes to school and get so much attention! It was so unfair for elementary-aged Jackie. Since I've gotten older, it's been a luxury. I've always asked for work off so I could shop until I dropped or lay by the pool for far too long. So today, for the first time ever, I had school because of the semester from H-E-double-hockey-sticks. Not only did I have school, I had a test and a presentation at school. Happy birthday to me. I got a terrible grade and too little sleep and then came home and ate too much candy with the excuse of "it's my birthday". And now I'm sitting here watching Men Tell All, which I would love on any regular Monday night, but not my birthday Monday night. I'm 24.

I'm 24. What?! I look at little 18-year-old me, who was perfectly in shape from dancing 24/7 (hence the nationals t-shirt, that I had just gotten back from), gorgeously tan (a perk of the beach trip after nationals), and pretty without make-up first thing in the morning, and I wish I was still her. I wish I had been able to spend more than two days in the sun this summer. I wish my legs still looked like that. I wish I was confident enough to go make-up free. In some ways, I wish I could go back.

But looking back on years 18 through 23, I've had so many experiences. Some that I would throw away in a heartbeat, yes, but some that have lead me to where I am. And although I can easily become discouraged and feel like I haven't lived up to my 24 years and I'm not where I think I should be when I compare myself to all these little Provo girls (which is a trap by the way, don't do it), I can also see how much I've accomplished and how much is still in front of me. I'm about to be a teacher, for goodness sake! Twenty-five little second graders at my command.....okay but really, I get to shape those little people and watch them grow. And 18-year-old me didn't know how awesome that would feel. And like, hopefully find the love of my life at some point and marry the crap out of him so we can move to California and be little beach lovers and then move back to Texas when we're ready to have the cutest little blonde babies ever. Or something like that. Just a thought.

So I guess what I'm trying to say is....bring it on, 24.