Saying goodbye to "How I Met Your Mother"

There’s a little pain in my heart when I watch How I Met Your Mother wrap up the last season. Partly because I’ve been watching this show for a really long time and that it’s so much a part of my formative adult years. (I started watching when I was 18 and I am now officially in late twenties.) But also because I feel a little jealous that Ted has a happy ending for certain.

You watch him trudge through the ninth season, going through the motions of his pain with Robin and Barney getting married and being the fifth wheel and remaining the only unmarried friend in the gang. But you roll with it because in one episode there is a flashback from a future many years from today showing you a beaming Cristin Milliotti, being everything Teddy Boy dreamed the “mother” to be.

She’s a bassist like Ted imagined, she’s spunky, she’s pretty but she’s more than her beauty, she’s funny, her life is storied, and she fits perfectly in the gang. I know I’m supposed to know that it’s just a show that Bays and Thomas put together – but still. When you think about all the shit that Ted had to go through, you are relieved that there is that light at the end of the tunnel, the silver lining in the dark rain cloud – that despite all those shitty years of trying to find love and never getting lucky, Ted’s story has a happy ending for certain.
 
And my wish at this point was that my life was secretly written by Bays and Thomas. That at the end of all the shitty years of trying to look for love and failing to find it, there’s a fucking prize at the end. That like Ted, all the heartache is worth it because that person with the yellow umbrella makes up for everything.

Here’s to hope. And here’s to Carter Bays and Craig Thomas. Thank you for Ted and for the hope of that person with the yellow umbrella. I don’t think I’ll ever be ready to say goodbye to Ted Mosby

Birthday Blogging

Hallo! Wow can't believe the last time I wrote was 5 months ago! Let's do some birthday blog lovin!

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I'm turning 27 in a few shakes. (Yay!) And this is the first time in a long time, I think in the past 5 years, that I uh, am feeling feelings about my birthday. The last time I felt "felt feelings" about a birthday was when I turned 23. It felt like a cute official welcome to adulthood. I felt old enough to be making my own decisions but young enough for my mistakes to be adorable.

Old, but I'm not that old

Young, but I'm not that bold

- Counting Stars, OneRepublic

Turning 27 just feels so uh, real life adult. (Haha, sorry I don't know if that makes sense to people other than me.) It feels like being told, 'welcome to your late twenties. Whatever you do today will have lasting repercussions on your life. Try not fxck up too much.' I feel like horses are running all over my chest from the mounting pressure - pressure to clean up, pressure to be married and have children, pressure to at least be dating, pressure to be a functioning, contributing member of society, pressure to be 'made.'

(Uh-oh, this post is getting a wee bit too honest, it's kinda scurryy. Hahaha.)

But I feel excited, too. 27 feels far enough from the crippling self-doubt from all my teenage years. I think I won't be alone in saying that your late twenties also brings a happy sense of certainty about yourself. You are more comfortable in your own skin and have a better idea of what will make you happy. I see many good things cominggg.

Hello 27. Let's make it great.

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P.S. Just to send it out to the universe, yes I want Enrique for my birthday.
xx Kat Cruz