A gift

I was out of town on my birthday so the gifts have been trickling in over the last week or so. This is totally fine by me, I love to draw the party out and milk it for everything turning 37 is worth.

The other day one of my girlfriends gave me a pair of really nice knives for my birthday. I hugged her when I opened the box and told her I loved them. My friend said that she picked them out because she knew I needed them and would never splurge on nice ones. She had a point, the last time she had been over, I spent way too much time sawing through the lime slices for our Coronas.

Then I said, "Wait, am I the kind of woman that squeals over kitchen knives?"

As I said it I realized that I didn't even know what that meant anymore. All of the stuff about who I am and who I want to be has turned out to be such crap. In the past, I have wasted too much time not investing in the things I really needed because of it. Who am I? Really, I don't think I have decided, and it might be awhile.

So yes, I will give you the evil eye if you try to peg me as one of those wifey types happy at home making soup. And then I will head home to chop veggies like a human chopomatic.

But don't try to call me out on it, I have some really sharp knives.