I wrote this on my birthday – but it’s pretty spot on for New Years (I consider my birthday to be a quasi New Year)…

It’s a big old piece on why I spend my birthday alone every year – by design. Would love your thoughts on it.

Chilling in Nicaragua and having the time of my life

It started a few years ago. I was turning 40 — a big birthday for those who care — and some friends were planning a dinner, a party, or … something. And at first I was fine with that, excited even. Unlike others, I’ve always kind of liked getting older and have had a true, firm belief that life for me would start at 40, as opposed to the common misperception that once you get gray hair, it’s over. But then I started thinking … and, as per usual when I think too much, got less excited.

“I know just exactly what is going to happen,” I thought. “It will be a large party — I won’t get to really speak to anyone, I will be supremely stressed about not being able to greet people properly and whether or not they are having a good time, I will drink too much, and I will end up at home with (my dog) Karl.” And just like that, I wasn’t all that excited about my birthday anymore.

And then I thought, “Hold up — let’s start the second half of your life the way you want to finish it. What have you always wanted to do but never done?” And immediately I thought of the pyramids. So, in a fit of pique I did it.  Continue reading →