Happy Birthday 2 Mes.

Reading over my 25th birthday entry from (gasp!) 5 years ago, one think that 25 is some big mysterious birthday signifying an imminent death/the end of everything as we know it. I'm not one to be hyperbolic, so I'll just write a little note to my 25 year old self: 25 isn't old, nor is turning that age some sort of indication of the "beginning of the end".

No, kind readers, 25 isn't old...30 is. So despicably old that I'll be surprised if I don't put a bullet in my head at some point during the remaining 18 minutes of my 20s.

I guess a 35 year old me would say that I was being hyperbolic again, and I probably am. I mean, is 30 old? It was to a 25 year old me! It was to a 29 year old me!

I remember a time when I visited NYU at the ancient age of 25 to meet with an agent. A few other kids were sitting around and I joined in their conversation. Frightened that someone was sitting with them who might actually be able to grow a beard, they cautiously asked me how old I was. When I told them, they were gobsmacked - legitimately jaw-dropped.

"Holy shit! 25 - that's sooooo old!", said the 21 year old girl who is now 25.
"I thought 25 was old until I turned 25", said the 25 year old me who is now only minutes away from being 30.

Time has a funny way of making you feel both incredibly young and incredibly old, depending who you are comparing yourself to at the time. I guess it's all a matter of perspective - with the exception of my grandmother who died at 98. She was really, really old. (But I love(d) her!)

Now I look at people who were born in 1990 and am completely blown away that they are 20. Did people feel that way about me after finding out that I was born in 1980? I mean, 1990 - Tiny Toon Adventures, HammerTime!, fades. Those kids have never experienced that particular cultural Renaissance. They grew up in a time during which they can now look fondly back to their youth and say "boy, I loved N'Sync when I was but 7!". Of course, if they talked like that, they'd probably be talking to themselves because who the hell would hang around someone who says "when I was but"?

Anyway, my life seems to be going pretty well right now - with the sole exception of my lack of blogging prowess - so I'm not going to complain too much. I hope my 30s will be at least 33% more productive then my 20s.

So goodbye 20s - the last decade I had bad acne, pursued a higher education (though that might change one day), and enjoyed a chocolate martini. Choco-tinis, by the way...not as delicious coming up as they were going down - let's just leave it at that.

I guess, in the end, the end of a decade makes you put some things to rest, and knowing me and my countless neuroses and oddly people turning-off habits, maybe that's a good thing.

As the year ends, think about how it's not worth thinking about too much.