My Mission

I have decided to take you on a ride. As I spend the last year of my 30s, I will take you with me. That’s right. This year, I am 39. 3---9. Hard for me to say it without choking up. I hate admitting it, and I’d rather not think about it. But hey, isn’t it the new 29? Yeah right.

Mortified and in deep denial, I realized the best way for me to deal with this crisis is to face it head on. That if I were to grow older gracefully like many of the classy ladies I so admire (Lauren Hutton, Diane Lane, Diane Keaton), I better accept it. And I better hustle.

So I want to relish my 39th year by celebrating it as best as I could every day. I want to make each day purpose-driven. Of course deep down I will be horrified, fearful and depressed from time to time, but I really do want my 39th year to matter. Really matter. I am not discounting that I did manage to improve the last 2 decades. But somehow there was no urgency. I guess the saying, "Youth is wasted on the young" finally makes sense to me. I always thought I'd be that cool older lady...the one that doesn't sweat her age. But now that the big 4-0 is around the corner, I do feel some dampness on my forehead. WHAT HAVE I BEEN DOING THE PAST 39 years?!!

Major or minor changes, they are all stuff that I’ve been carrying around with me for a long time. I just don't want that weight on me anymore. Because it's not about growing up and becoming oh so mature for me. What it is, is "me" growing better.

So at least every week, I will candidly share with you my adventures in attempting to become a better version of me. And as my birthday is November 5, I only have 9 months and 4 days left. By the time I am blowing 40 candles, I sure hope that aside from the fire extinguisher, I carry with me that confidence that I am yet to reach my prime.

Wish me luck.

Saturday, March 27, 2010

SOFA KING BUENO

(7 months 8 days)
Last weekend, I had the opportunity to go to Paso Zinfest and sample lots of great wines and food.
The highlight of which was CHRONIC CELLARS, a winery opened by the 2 sons of the classic Peachy Canyon. The rebel sons.
http://www.chroniccellars.com/
The label hooked me in, as a friend kept raving about their designs. And being an avid fan of great aesthetics, I was curious.

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"Sofa King Bueno" (please read it fast for full effect) is 66% Syrah, 12% Petite Sirah, 11% Grenache, 11% Mourvedre. I loved the wine, and I loved the name. And as I read this label, I blushed. I am 55% still a prude. And while I blush at such expletives, even cleverly disguised, I am reminded of how my prudence in life has held me back through the years.

I am actually much better now than when I first moved to New York. The city taught me to be very open, and very little actually shocks me anymore. But still, I do watch what I say, and keep any profanity minimal, which is almost never, aside from sh_t. And even then I have to "underscore" it.

But I am really not talking about how well and how often one can use profane language here. I am really talking about that zeal, that "charging towards life" quality that some people are just naturally gifted with. Beyond just the surface uber "discretion" I have always had, there is that deep lack of caution to the wind in me. Imagine this, when I was about 18 I think, I wore a tanktop underneath my one piece bathing suit because I deemed it too low cut and revealing. Even my aunt was begging me to take it off.

I am really not that bad. In fact, my parents will argue that. They have always looked at me as the rebellious daughter who ran off to the big, bad city. But I know myself. And I know I hold back on certain things because of my "decency to a fault creed". You know, the kind that prevents new experiences and growth sometimes. The kind that could really only give you 45% of life. And this is what I'd like to savour more.

After all, life is best spent when every so often you get to scream out, "SOFA KING BUENO!" to the world around you.
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