35 juicy horse faces, ah ah ah

Today is the eve of my 35th birthday. Like most american white kids, there was a time I couldn't imagine being older than 22. When I was 24 years old, I would stand behind the counter at the diner and sigh, "I'm almost thirty." And everyone would laugh. I remember being a little girl and looking very closely at my face in the mirror. I would try to imagine what that face might look like as a grown-up face. My grown-up face has crow's feet now, and little lines across the forehead. And my grown-up face is alright. I wish I might get with that little girl and whisper some things in her ear. If I could do that, I bet you my life would be very different. There are pieces of it I would trade, but at the end of the day, things are turning out pretty neat.
I got a birthday card from my parents yesterday. My mother wrote in it that I had exceeded their dreams for me. I wonder how to take that, really. Living in a rented house and being in debt up to my eyeballs exceeds the dreams my parents dreamed for me?
I know. It isn't that. It's the being happy, and doing work I love. It's the helping people and starting businesses and being scared shitless and doing it anyway. I do wonder what they dreamed for me. Did they dream of a day with a white dress and little red haired grandchildren?
I know they did not dream acupuncturing cowgirl cook. And I hope they did not dream that part where I made pizzas for two years. There are other things I won't mention here that I also hope they did not dream for me.
When I was a kid I got to go horseback riding for my birthday. Tomorrow I'm riding a horse up the flank of Mount Hood. Some things, they don't ever change.