where have all the flowers gone?

The hardest part about being a 30-something single woman is that most pretty much all of my Anonymous Beloveds have significant others, signifiant children, significant obligations ... ugh, you get the point.  

Don't get me wrong, I'm kind of loving this part of my life where I get to explore the world without feeling awkward and insecure.  I can list so many things that are cool about where my life is at right now: 

I can try on different identities because most people think I'm crazy anyway;

I can pick up and move to another state, city, house without having to worry about uprooting anyone and ruining their lives;

despite my age, people still occasionally card me when I buy vodka at the grocery store;

I am not ashamed to say that vodka occasionally makes it on to my grocery list (or that I regularly make a grocery list with, gasp, coupons);

I can go to bed at 8:30 and no one calls me old, and if they do, I'm too old to care :)

But, not every road is paved with butterflies and roses ALL of the time.  Today I just seemed to have stubbed my big toe on a big fat tree stump in the middle of my rosy nature walk.  I hate that.  So, my stupid proverbial toe hurts, my ego is a little bruised, and I kind of want to cry -- all because I wanted a little piece of undivided attention.  I am not too old to stomp my feet and throw a little fit; but old enough to absolutely know how to do it right!  Ugh!  

Ok.  Well, now that I've gotten that out my system, its time to quit whining and pull up my big girl panties and keep moving until I find those butterflies and roses again.  

Happy moving forward, ya'll!