I'm older. I like that.

Dear Mallory,

I'M TWENTY-SEVEN! Weird. Naomi over at Love, Taza mentioned that 27 somehow feels more mature, and I have to agree. I feel like I hold more clout now. Maybe that's silly, but it's how I feel. To forewarn you, I normally don't make a big to-do about my birthday. It's strange, really, because growing up my parents always threw me a birthday party. We had a pool and neighborhood friends and a dad that liked to grill and a furnished basement that was perfect for sleepovers. But I think I fell out of celebrating it in high school. Summers were for youth group trips and family vacations and trips to the beach and everyone was everywhere but definitely not at home and I just stopped. Also, I feel lame being all, "I'm throwing myself a birthday party! Wanna come over?" It doesn't sound so bad saying it like that here, to you, but it just makes me feel funny.

Any ways. We've been celebrating my birthday unofficially for a couple weeks now. What with the gift of a bike and everything. So on Saturday we finally found a bike for Aaron. He's maybe even more excited than I was, which is really saying something. He's been dreaming up bike rides and things to do via bike and places to see while cruising around town on our bikes. Here's his proud face:

My mom sent me flowers, which is another ordeal in and of itself, but we won't dwell on it. Because eventually my long lost ballon and chocolates did show up. And, I have to mention, the chocolates were worth waiting for; dark chocolate and lemon and turtles and yum.

And then. Oh Mallory, you're going to drool on your keyboard. Aaron took me to dinner at this place called Marrow and, long story very short, I got the catch of the day for free [they messed up my order, but I wasn't upset]. I ate seared ahi with an avocado wasabi spread rolled and very lightly breaded on a bed of udon noodles and edamame. I also had a really great alcoholic beverage that had a lot of gin in it [I love gin] and it was equally as delicious. This along with my actual order of wild mushrooms and risotto with this crazy awesome sauce and other veggies. And I got to eat it with Aaron and my sister. And I wore the birthday present that I got myself. It was a truly fantastic evening.

But wait Mallory. That's not all. When I got home I changed into my pajamas [read: I was finally able to take my bra off], wandered out to the back porch to hang out with my dogs and, in a wonderful twist of fate, had this moment with Hurley:

And I know this letter is already very long. But while laying there, looking at the clouds, I had a moment. I realized it was my last summer in the Pacific Northwest. I realized that my porch is a perfect spot for cloud gazing. I thought about how 27 years ago, my mom had given birth to me. At the age of 27. I hoped that I might have the same blessing. I thought about how one day I would like to watch the clouds trail across the sky with my kids, talking about shapes and animals and ships and, possibly, science. I want Hurley to join us. I hope he can join us. I dreamed up goals for my 27th year and allowed hope to bubble to the surface. I missed my family and my friends. When Aaron joined me later, I hugged his head close to my chest and thanked him for my presents and dinner and patience and love. I let him know I was thankful I married him and how happy I was that he was home this year for my birthday and not overseas in a war zone. He said some equally sweet words. And we laughed a little and stared at the clouds and let the dogs lick our ears.

And then asked me to stop squeezing his head.

It was a glorious birthday. And on top of that, you threw me a really cute birthday party on my blog. That concerto from Harry? Honestly? I teared up a little. I hope one day I have a little babe that wants to pound on some keys. And I'm so glad I have you as a friend. You have been such a blessing to me the past few years. You're so creative and inspiring, too! Those gifts? Awesome. I want to make that dress form. And I want a hug from Ryan Gosling. And you got Rihanna to tell me Happy Birthday! Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Tearily yours,
Amy