This week is my birthday week.

Wednesday (my actual birthday), I’m going out to dinner with the boyfriend, and probably getting a chocolate cake from one of my students who came to me the other day to ask me, and I quote, “chocolate questions,” to determine my cake preferences.

Friday, my boyfriend organized a dinner with our awesome and amazing co-workers at one of my favorite LA spots. (In fact, I was just there enjoying buttery garlic balls with Andrea and Amy!)

Saturday, my roommates organized a dinner and small get together for my outside of work friends.

Today, my sister told me she is getting me tickets to go see a taping of “Big Bang Theory,” something we’ve been talking about wanting to do for months.

All in all, I’m feeling overwhelmed with the amount of love and general awesomeness in my life right now.

After my last post, I’ve been trying to live in the moment, to stop thinking about how my life looks and to start focusing on how happy I am at this juncture of my life.

In thinking about this coming birthday week, I went back and read what I posted last year on my 23rd birthday, and this one line in particular hit me:

“While my 23rd year most likely won’t seem as life-changing on paper as my 22nd, I’m thinking that by my 24th year, I’m going to be an entirely different person, and for today at least, I feel kind of OK with that.”

This hit me, because of how right I was in my assumption. On paper, my life is almost exactly the same as last year. I live in the same apartment. I have the same job. I have the same friends, but this year, I feel, somehow, more whole. I feel much more grown up, more settled. Despite stress, I feel good at my job, where as last year I felt, at times, like I was drowning. Last year, though I would rarely admit it, I felt utterly, emotionally alone, and now I’m with someone who constantly surprises me with understanding and with exactly what I need at the end of a long day. Last year, I still missed my “homes” in Boston and with my parents, and while I still feel a little ache for that, I now feel like when I come to my apartment, I’m home. I feel like LA is where I live, and when I fly into LAX, I feel like I’m returning instead of just staying for a bit.

My prediction came true. My 23rd year was not life-changing like last year was. I’m different now, and I’m still very OK with that.

I’ve always been a pretty self-reflective, always dreaming up extremely vivid images of what kind of life I want to lead and what kind of person I want to be. I think blogging has factored into this a lot in the past few years. Blogs constantly expose you to a multitude of life choices, crazy adventures, and differing attitudes. In a weird way, it was reading blogs – mom blogs and blogs of people working for themselves, in particular – that made me realize I didn’t want to work in entertainment, because I wanted a more “regular” life, and that influence hasn’t gone away yet. Being constantly exposed to other people’s lives in this way allows me to see how other people are living on a weekly basis and see if they are living the kind of life I want for myself.

The problem with this, and with me, really, is that I have terrible “grass is greener” syndrome. Even as I’ve been happy with my life, I’m always seeing the awesome, cool, interesting, and exotic things OTHER people are doing. I see people eating at amazing restaurants, going on hot air balloon rides, creating a ball-pit in their living room, traveling the world, staring their own businesses, decorating adorable apartments, getting married, going to grad school…I see all these things, and I think, THOSE are the types of things I want – the interesting lives with the new, small adventures, with the adorable outfits and the Etsy adorned apartment and the fun, entrepreneurial new job….

Lately, I’ve come to realize, however, that what we see on blogs is SUCH a small slice of people’s lives, and not just any slice, the slice people *choose* to share with the world. We sometimes see the struggles, but always protected and monitored, always as a small chunk of the image. We don’t see the daily grind, the annoying traffic, the family frustrations, the utter heartbreaks, and the boring days. The more bloggers I’ve met in real the life, the more evident this has become to me. As much as we know and share with each other, we don’t know that much *just* from reading blogs. People are doing these fun, cool, adventurous things, but they are also living real life. Just like I am.

With this realization, it has been my mission to think about how my life could (or would) be perceived (if I actually blogged about it on a regular basis, that is), and what people may see in me, when you take away all that daily grind crap.

My blog would show that I love my job, stress and crazy kids and all. It would show that I have a great adorable teacher boyfriend who loves me. It would show that I do go on some crazy adventures, like hitting up Disneyland with these lovely folks and having a heart attack on Space Mountain, like going with my best friend to see Maroon 5 at the Greek theater, and like going with my hilarious co-workers to Drag Bingo in West Hollywood. It would show that I do have some cute Etsy jewelry. I do go to fun restaurants that have been featured on “The Best Thing I ever Ate,” and even though it isn’t super decorated, I do have a pretty sweet apartment.

Someone reading would look at my life and not see the disorganized room, the hour of me in sitting (and screaming) in traffic, the pain of getting up at 5AM, and the lack of decoration in my apartment, but they would see someone who has a pretty good life. And it is definitely the life I want.