I have spent my entire day editing short autobiographies written by young moms. It is definitely unfair to assume that the poor writing is in any way related to their status as mothers . . . but life isn't fair. Therefore, I will now preposterously claim that giving birth leads to 1) children and 2) comma splices.

Today, I turn twenty-three years old. That might just be my second-favorite number, right behind sweet sixteen. Of course, I always associate twenty-three with Michael Jordan, so I've dubbed this entry and the next 365 days "the year of the basketball." Hopefully, that doesn't actually mean anything, as I haven't been within ten feet of a basketball since my days as a cheerleader.

Anyway, what's a good birthday without a good list? Not very good at all, precious. So here are twenty-three highlights from the last year as captured at Rachelskirts.com:

1. I became an old lady. »
2. I started working at my church. »
3. My mom and I started our "Friday night date" tradition, which entails eating Panera for dinner and watching either Gilmore Girls or What Not to Wear and scarfing down a pint of ice cream. »
4. I fell in love with Panera Kyle. »
5. I noticed that most of my personality was shaped by Calvin and Hobbes. (Note: This entry is by far the most popular thing ever posted on my site, due entirely to the fact that I mentioned Bill Watterson in the title. Notice that the last comment on there was by a lady who wanted me to give her and her son Bill Watterson's contact information. No way! I kidnapped him first!) »
6. I posted a really scary picture of my face, which later became the profile picture on this site. »
7. I was an extra for a commercial. »
8. I adopted a sock monkey. »
9. I went to therapy and hated it. »
10. I fell in love with Cute Tuesday Boy. »
11. You named my sock monkey Juan Pedro. »
12. I took my mom to see Wicked. »
13. My brother and I celebrated a "snow day" by making snow goons on the porch. »
14. I did not shave my legs for a month. »
15. I played N64 with Juan Pedro. »
16. I posted my first (and only, so far) video blog entry. »
17. I bought a bazillion books at the library, many of which you recommended. »
18. I shared with you just how awesome my dad can be. »
19. I saw Dave Brubeck in concert. »
20. You named my fish Timmy Venture. »
21. I started waking up at 5:30 a.m. just to catch the sunrise. »
22. I went on a crazy road trip to Milwaukee with my family, which I still haven't finished writing about. »
23. I realized that this "getting older" thing wasn't so bad after all. Not yet, anyway. »

. . . has nothing to do with Folgers in your cup. Although, I must say that I feel very grown up when I get to work in the morning and pour myself a nice, big cup of coffee to drink at my very own desk in my very own shared-with-the-best-roomie-ever office.

But I'd say that the best part of growing up is realizing that you are still free to be yourself. I don't have to stop watching Samurai Jack just because I'm older than the target market. I don't have to stop watching SpongeBob SquarePants, either. I am free to choose between a disgusting beer or a really awesome glass of chocolate milk, and nobody can stop me from choosing the chocolate milk every damn time. I can spend my mornings acing my microeconomics test or creating a mind-blowing brochure at work, but I am free to come home in the evenings and read a book by flashlight under the covers or play online battleship with my friend in Iraq.

Looking over what I've written so far, it looks like the best part of growing up is that I haven't had to grow up at all, and maybe that is the case. However, that's a choice that I was allowed to make, and damn does it feel good to have that right.