My birthday is in three weeks! I'm not actually sure if I'm excited or not...this year I'm turning 26. I'm sure I've discussed before how the year (2006, I guess?) all my slighter older friends turned 26, they all announced their age with a sigh of resignation. Alee, for instance, when asked how old he was turning at his birthday show, while onstage no less, heaved a sigh like a ton of bricks. He's my prime example.
Exes and ex-whatevers are coming out of the woodwork lately. Some of them because I dragged them (ahem, Ian) and some of them just randomly appear in real life or dreams. Last night, I ran into Ex-BF's Ex-BFF in Burritotown, just as I was in the process of spilling burritojuice and root beer all over myself. Hott. The night before, the Communist and the Coop starred in my dream. In a totally un-sexy way. The Communist had bought me a motorcycle, and the Coop revealed that his parents were siblings. It was a weird dream.
Went to the city last night, which I haven't done on Halloween since, I don't know, 2000? 2001? BART was swarming with po-po, in an effort to prevent any sort of gathering in the 'stro. There was even a drug-sniffing dog on our train (clearly not a very good one), and each station had literally like 20 cops just hanging out. They were successful in their mission. I'm not sure how I feel about that...I mean, I think it's good when people, you know, don't get shot. And the 'stro Halloween was a total madhouse; I remember going and not being able to move at all. (Hm, maybe that's what started my loathing of large crowds...) But it was something of an institution, and it seemed lame that they couldn't think of any other way to handle the sitch.
Ah well, such is life.
Anyway, I ended up feeling pretty cool last night, because I ran into a bunch of people I knew at various points in the evening. So, in a way, it was sort of like going back in time some number of years. To a time when I certainly wasn't in my late-ish 20s.
I had this great convo with my mom the other day about when we become adults. She told me that when she was my age, she and my godmommy would talk about how old you had to be or what you had to have done with your life in order to be a grown up. I'm still not sure...I don't really feel like one. And I'm not sure I want to.
I know I can't drink like I used to even two years ago, and I can't stay up as late without being a total zombie the next day. I get up earlier on the weekends (marginally). I have a 401(k) and a chiropractor. My 16-year-old godbros don't talk to me like I'm a peer (which is probably actually a good thing).
But then, I still go out on weeknights, I still have a problem with having to be at work in the morning, I still say "like" and "yeah" roughly every 3 words. So can I still be a kid? Or maybe a 'tween? There needs to be a term similar to 'tween for those of us lingering in this post-collegiate-in-denial-that-we-have-responsibilities stage... I guess everyone just calls it the quarterlife crisis. But I want a title!
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