Yesterday I turned 25. Which is funny because 25 is my ultimate peg for age. As I used to say “I’m 24 which is almost 25 which is practically 30 which means MY LIFE IS OVER!”
I’ve never been one to invest much into birthdays. I mean I celebrate them because I love the attention, obvi, but I fail to see the need for such pomp and circumstance.
Particularly now that I’m in my twenties and on my own, the day passes
like any other, no more or less mundane than any other day. Perhaps
the decidedly lackluster sentiments towards my day of birth are
because the big mile markers are gone; there’s no longer any legal
significance to my birthdays anymore. I can drink, drive (though not
at the same time), go to war, gamble, vote, see a rated-R movie
without my parents, do all those crazy sexy cool things you so longed
to do at a young age back when they seemed so mysterious and taboo.
Sure, I can now rent a car and not get kicked off my parents insurance
for another year, but the reality is the only thing ahead of me now is
a long, arduous, razor-blade lined road towards my inevitable death
(Old age is making me more maudlin by the hour)
To celebrate my special day my bromander-in-chief cooked me dinner. We
were musing about various topics (as best bros forever are oft wont to
do) and when questioned about how it feels to be 25, I gotta admit
it’s sort of the tits.
25 is the penultimate in-between where people at every age sort of
take you seriously. You’re solidly out of college but still young, so
you can hang with students and re-live your prime party days of
undergrad. However you’re also like a proto-adult and actual adults
start to recognize. It’s also one of the last few years when age
improves your looks and is not something you have to resist. Yes, in
the grand scheme of geologic time, I have it made right now
So I couldn’t decide which exercise in reflections (peak/ pit or that
inane viral questionaire circulating through the facebook) but since
I’m trying to take up space why not do both!
Peak/ Pit
Peak- This year has been a particularly eventful. I finished my
master’s, went to Asia, moved to a city I love, and held the beautiful
daughter of one of my best friends. There was no clear-cut cherry
topping, so I guess that I just have to say that the peak has probably
been inching out into the deep end that is my so-called adult life.
Pit- This has also be a particularly capricious year. It has ebbed and
flowed, peaked and troughed, and the higher I went the longer there
was to fall. I suppose this most recent episode (which I’ve decided to
name the January Funk-adelic) was pretty rough. I was pretty manic and
wallowing in self-pity and loathing, and it was a very unbecoming
state of being. While I’m still feeling a few aftershocks of it, I’ve
been a lot better. And in this wonky way it was sort of a good
experience because it demonstrated to be that when the going gets
tough I’m strong enough to weather it (cue: Survivor by Destiny’s
Child… no really I listened to that song a lot when I was feeling
blue)
MOVING ON
I was given the age 22
I was given the age 22
I lived in: Arch Street, quite possibly the most awesome house with
the most awesomest people on the planet of Earth. Then I moved to
Estonia aka Narnia for, like, no reason whatsoever
I drove: my Honda Element when my mommy said I could (22, ladies and gentlemen)
What I did: mastering my masters
Who had my heart: My senior year BF. And Zachary Quinto, but that’s not confined to
just that age but rather for eternity.
Fears: Drag queens. They’re gay clowns, which is literally my worst nightmare
25
I live in: Max City, bitch Max Max City, Bitch
I drive: the Twerkulator
I am: Triparttime
Who has my heart? NO ONE, THANKS FOR BRINGING IT UP YOU PIECE OF SHIT SURVEY
Fears: Still drag queens.