In which I get back on the blog horse and get a little sentimentality all. over. myself.
I acknowledge that I have been an absentee blogger. Hopefully I can submit the excuse that I have been gloriously, actively busy with Real Life Stuff and get a pass from any of you still hoping to read more here. As my classes for the Spring come to a close next week, I should start to have more time to keep things up to date. May is going to be a big month. I intend to record some of it here.
But... the real reason for this post, is, of course, to talk about my feelings and to remind you all that it was just my birthday, and you're still within the acceptable window to send me any of the posters in Tracy Jordan's dressing room as a birthday gift. Just kidding. Although, seriously, if someone can get their hands on a Who Dat Ninja? poster, please tell me how.
This past weekend I celebrated my 27th birthday. Now, 27 is possibly the least significant birthday milestone I've celebrated so far - I gain no new rights or privileges, and I haven't yet slipped into the "oh god I'm almost 30" despair vortex that I understand comes with turning 28 (right, that's a thing?). I've been able to rent a car for two years, no big whoop, and I'm still a hearty ways off from being able to run for President, which gives me plenty of time to locate my birth certificate.
Still, measured by one standard this birthday marks the end of one of the biggest years of my life. That standard being change.
Let's look it over, because I kind of want to see this in writing.
