“I’m 23. Remember how old 23 seemed when you were little? I thought people would be traveling in air locks and I’d have five kids. Here I am, 23. Things are…They’re basically the same. I think time’s running out to do something bizarre. Somewhere around 23 bizarre becomes immature.” —Bridget Fonda as Janet Livermore in Cameron Crowe’s Singles.
Today is my half year birthday. I am officially closer to 20-10 than I am to 29, and that thought is beginning to terrify me.
I should rewind and point out that I don’t have this date marked on my calendar. Rather, it has always been my parents’ tradition to celebrate our half-year birthdays with a cupcake and some small random gift.
On Friday, I went home for the weekend, as my brother got married. My mom handed me a small box and said, “I was afraid your half-year birthday would get lost in the shuffle this weekend.” Appalling. How could they forget my half-year birthday on the weekend of their only son’s wedding? Too funny.
Regardless, 30 seems that much closer and I feel as though I have much to accomplish in the next six months. I want something big to happen – something exciting and life changing. I dread getting to the age where it seems that I should have done it all already, that I should have gotten it all out of my system. When I once mentioned wanting to move cross-country, my brother commented that “people don’t do that at 30, they do it at 22.” So I missed my chance?
So the lesson is … start filling out my social security forms. Begin collecting stray cats – dozens of them. Happy 29 and a half to me 🙂
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