25th on the 19th

When Disappointment meets Hope, Hope prevails.
When Disillusionment meets Passion, Passion prevails.


Now that I meet 25, it looks very similar to 24. Or at least to the mature 24. Was I mature? Am I mature? At least more so than I was a year ago, so that ought to count for something, nu? Myself has fewer misunderstandings with Me and I; Me and I still argue, but I thinks Me likes to argue, so that won't ever completely cease. We shall see.

2 + 5 = 7

7 Days in a Week. Flip 25 for 52 weeks in a Year. 52 * 7 = 364 Days. Much can happen - often does happen - in those days. Here's looking forward with expectant uncertainty for whatever will happen in the next 364 Days. Much can change. If this past year is any indication of my life, the increase in amount of change will continue its dramatic climb. Not quite exponential, but on a large order. Zoom, zoom. Roller-coaster up. Rocket launcher, complete with sound, flame, and smoke.

My brain's a little scattered now and here.

Here and now: a little later in the day: my brain's still scattered, but much more happily so. I think the best present I received was seeing a friend who I haven't seen in, what... over a year and a half? It was wonderful.

I decided, as it is my birthday, to dress up, and I wore my still-brand-new little black dress with the fun swirly skirt. And many people at church commented on it. 'Twas encouraging, I must admit. I could dismiss enjoying compliments as shallow or conceited, but really, that's not the case. Such words, when they are given, are tremendously uplifting. I'm in no danger of beginning to dress up all the time just to get people to compliment me, but it's certainly nice when they notice! Now I just need someone to dance with, so I can put the swirly skirt to good use!

Maybe I do feel a little older. Just a wee bit. God has been trying to get me to accept that I am a woman, all grown up, and even in the course of this one day, that has been strengthened in me. I am not a child. I am not only a young adult. I am not a little girl, not matter how lacking in height I am. Rather, I am a woman, a lady.

Hah. That reminds me of high school. Madrigal Dinners - I wish I could remember at least one of my names! Wait. Latin. I picked a good name there.

I am Lady Amadea.