This is it. The official sign that the rest of the year is going to zoom by. I can’t tell you what happened to the first 21 days of this month. They seemed to fly away while I was sleeping.

Last weekend was Birthday Weekend. Because The Hub’s birthday is a day before mine, we usually combine them and celebrate. For days. We opted out of going out and leaving Max with a babysitter (he’s got issues there these days) and instead ate and drank ourselves into comas. Twice.

The celebration continues all week long for me. I’m a fan of the prolonged birthday celebration. Went shopping with one friend Monday and took off work completely (something I’m still recovering from, work-wise). Then yesterday I got to hang out with another friend who was taking a mental health day. And this Sunday, I’m having brunch with all my girlfriends. Yay me.

We went to Max’s school carnival. And we’re doing soccer every week. There just doesn’t seem to be any time to do the fun things like the Boo Parade or Halloween at SeaWorld. Where does the time go?

I know the rest of the year will be the same flurry of activity. I’m looking forward to it, and not, at the same time.

PS After talking about it for years, I am dressing up as Wonder Woman at my Halloween party. GO me. No, no pics will be posted!!

Photo: Flickr user somebox. Creative Commons 2.0.

My main beef with exercise most of my life has been the fact that you are required to sweat so much. That’s why I fell in love with yoga: the sweat factor is pretty low. And yes, I think Bikram yoga (hot yoga) is akin to torture in a third world country. And no, I’ve never done it and never will.

But I’m getting over my phobia of sweating, gradually. I started working out with the hub, who sweats bullets – no literally – his sweat drops are that big. Anyway I now take sweat to mean the exercise is working. And that feels good.

But that cooldown shower? I look forward to it more than anything.

Have you had this experience? Someone from your past pops up on Facebook, the two of you start reminiscing about days gone by, and you spend days thinking about who you were back then?

No? Well then I’m the only one.

I’ve noticed that every time a friend from high school or college pops up, I’m whirled back to that time. I think about who I was and how I’ve changed. It’s a weird feeling. Because I’m so different. And yet the same.

And there’s something about talking to someone, even after 15 years, who once knew you better than anyone. And you wonder what they know about you now that you don’t realize about yourself.

Right now I’m rolling back to early college, before I met (well, dated) my husband, back when my roommate and I partied every weekend (Goldfish and Kool-Aid, mom, don’t worry) and the biggest stress in my life was the 100 pages I needed to read for my Lit class.

In some ways, I idealize the girl I was: she was much more carefree than I am. She led and others followed. She tried new things.

But I’m more successful and richer than she was.

So nanny nanny boo boo, old self.