Wow, 25 years. I don’t feel old, fortunately, but a quarter-century does seem like a milestone that should be somehow commemorated beyond in addition to the usual drunken stupor.

I don’t think that’s going to happen though, which is kind of sad and kind of nice all at the same time. I’m too busy to make any extraordinary plans. I barely managed to get my closest 6 friends together on Friday for a little birthday dinner with Patrick and me.

That would be where the drunken stupor comes in.

Good times.

Hmmm… I think I lie. I think I do feel old. Maybe it’s because I work with all high school students at one of the part-time jobs. I’m like Grandpa Moses there. Or maybe it’s just this sudden work-a-holic schedule making me feel aged. I hope that’s it.

Looking over at my sidebar, where under Basics it now says “When: 25 years,” is a little disconcerting. For one, it’s so much shorter than usual without all the months and days listed, too. But mostly, that clear visual really makes the number sink in. “Welcome to mid-20s,” it says. “What have you done with your life so far?”

Twenty-five is a dangerous age for me. In high school, even in college, 25 was the age to plan on. It was the answer to every “I’ll have done this and this and this and… all that by the time I’m __ years old.”

Bit of advice: As tempting as it is, don’t play that game with yourself. You always lose.

People asked all week what I wanted for my birthday and I rarely had an answer, mostly because it seemed stupid (and it was) to say, “My college years back.”

So I usually said “cock & ass” instead.

I want cock & ass for my birthday.

So get to it. I’m not gettin’ any younger.

Don’t worry; you non-locals, photos are fine. Send photos. Lots of them.

Actually, in thinking about it, locals should just send photos, too. Birthday cock & ass via any other means might upset Patrick a wee bit, and we wouldn’t want that.

Hey, what can I say? It wouldn’t be my annual Zionide birthday post if I didn’t ask …

Oh, and no, Grandma was none too thrilled when she got my birthday list this year. “What do you need a rooster and a donkey for, dear? And where in town can I get them?”