33

When I was in college, my group of friends had pagers. This was right before cell phones were becoming affordable and small enough to carry, and if we wanted to get a hold of each other we paged. We also used the calculator tricks we learned in elementary school to send each other our version of text messages (this was before alphanumeric pagers, we just had numbers). You know what I'm talking about – 07734 upside down on a pager spells "hello." 589 7718 84 1 became "I hate Bill Gates." Hey, what can I say? I used to be an Apple girl through and through. It was only when I started using CAD that I started using a PC. I was much more idealistic in college. ;-P

Anyway, because we never knew where we'd be calling from, we all had numeric sign-off numbers. For various reasons, mine was "33." So I could send a friend the number where I was calling from, 911 for "Emergency," and 33 to let them know it was me and not a wrong number.

Ever since then, I have kind of considered 33 to be My Number. When I have to choose a number from 1-100, I choose 33. The exclusive dinner club at Disneyland is called Club 33. If I purchase something and the price ends in 33 cents, it makes me smile. So does 33 minutes past the half hour, if I happen to see the clock at that minute. Call it my "lucky" number, if you will. I like 33.

As of today, I have completed my 33^rd year of life on this planet. And I have to say that this past year was not great. There were great moments, but overall I was not impressed. Tomorrow marks my 33^rd birthday. And while technically it will be the beginning of my 34^th year, I choose to believe that great things will happen in the year I am 33.