Goodbye 24, hello 25.

Birthdays are a funny thing.

It seems the older I get, the more lame my birthdays are.  I slept in until about 10:00, wrote some music, and went to work around 11:30.  I worked until a little bit after 8:00, went to the pool to swim for about an hour, came home, fell asleep on the couch, and now at 1:00 in the morning, I am awake.

That was my October 7th.

People asked me all day at work, "What are you going to do tonight?"  When I responded, "Go swimming after work," I just got a strange look and then, "Why aren't you going on to celebrate?"

Well.  I don't know.  

I mean, honestly, I was quite looking forward to swimming, as I haven't been able to do anything regarding exercise since Friday.  So, when people asked about my plans, I kind of felt silly for not having any kind of party planned.  But, I mean, am I supposed to plan the party?  I just feel a little out of place doing something like that.

Every now and again, I would get the somewhat-militant-party-people shocked that I wasn't going out partying.  Some people would look at me like I was crazy, and keep and keep and keep and keep asking me questions about why I wasn't going to do anything.  I just wanted to say, "Because no one is throwing me a fucking party, okay?"  I didn't, of course.

But, in comparison to last year's birthday, this year's birthday was a blast.  Sure, there wasn't a cake, presents, or a party... but there were also no tears, a broken transmission in my car, and an almost negative balance in my bank account.  And, I can say with certainty that last year's birthday was an accurate introduction to my entire year, so if today is any indication of what I might expect as a 25-year-old, then bring it (minus the rain, dry contacts, and the hordes of dumb people).  

24, I was a bore.  25 is when I come alive.

(You like that, don't you?)