sullying the cement

my, my, my. i'm 29 today. you'd think i'd learn how to act my age by now. wear sensbile shoes to work, be a little more modest with my style, learn to think before i let all the inappropriate things that swirl around in my head spew in messy puddles before other people's feet, go to bed at a decent hour so i can start the cycle of work, eat, sleep all over again. but not so. not completely at least.

i'm 29 and have decided that birthday weeks are not the time to set this all in place. and i, for one, would like to sully the cement with one more imprint from these hayride sandals before my life turns impermanent as stone. and so, as a treat to myself, i have used the days leading up to 29 to mark a moment of rebellion, a swish of a finger in wet grey. a little "e" slashed in the sidewalk of life, zorro-style.