Cheers to birthdays and big dreams

I entered into my thirty-second year with trepidation. Am I where I thought I'd be at age 32?

Maybe not.

When I was a teenager, I didn't dream about backyard swimming pools, family barbecues and acres of land. I had dreams about wearing power suits and drinking martinis in my New York City penthouse. This was probably due to watching too many episodes of the "The Jeffersons" and "Moonlighting."

As a girl growing up in a mid-size Indiana town, life in the big city seemed pretty glamorous.

I guess as a 32-year-old woman living in Georgia, it still seems pretty glamorous.

And while my life might not look the way I thought it would, the last couple of years have been pretty good.

Maybe I've traded the New York City penthouse for a Georgia lake house, and maybe I wear capris and cute tops instead of power suits, but I still drink martinis. And I still have big dreams.

I guess you could say I'm movin' on up.