Awww- thanks!
T3 was better than I anticipated, good action, some laughs, gutsy ending. I'd vote for Arnie if I could- though I'm a little worried he might actually be a Terminator sent back to win the election so he can activate SkyNet in order to end the world. Anyways, enough about that. Lydia, aka Chrysostoma aka the Oneploughwoman, has sent me a very nice email, and said I could use it as a guest poost (which are always welcome around here, by the way). Seems she wanted to encourage me about turning 29, like I was saying a few days ago. I won't reveal her age, but she has a few years before she has to go through the same ordeal. But when she does, I will be sure to send the same goodness her way. Here it is, ten reasons why turning 29 doesn't equal poo:

1) it's your last year of twenty-something life. next year, you'll get to begin an entirely new decade. go out with a bang!

2) when 40-year olds want to lie about their age, they often say they're 29. you won't have to lie about your age this coming year. ;)

3) high school is in your distant past. which means, therefore, any memories you have of detentions, or mean teachers, or embarassing moments are at least a decade old. and therefore only remembered by a select few.

4) 29 is a prime number. and everyone knows that prime numbers are the coolest numbers in mathematics.

5) when jesus was 29, he......well, i think he still lived with his parents and worked at the family business. and was probably bored stiff with 1st century mid-eastern life. you DON'T live with your parents, and you only work with them when you want to (or when they ask really nicely, i'd imagine). and plus you're the least boring person i've ever met.

6) every month has at least 29 days. even february (on leap years.)

7) kids see all adults as old. it's a fact of nature. it won't make much difference to a kid if you say you're "28" or "29." they probably won't even know the difference.

8) i bet the city of Twentynine Palms, California, would give you a discount if you visit them during the 29th year of your life. ;)

9) and then there's the restored, 18th century middle-class home, "Number Twenty Nine", in Dublin, Ireland. good tourist attraction. .

10) this poem reminded me of you. maybe it'll inspire you to write your own pooem about the essence of twenty-nine-ness?

Turning Twenty-Nine
by Beth Ann Fennelly

You thought by now youd be wiser,
not still falling for the old x=y.
You wonder how youd do if you were
the last person on earth and had to found
a new civilization: Could you describe
how an engine works? A radio? A light bulb?
You repeat the word bulb. Bulb, bulb, bulb.
You stop in the nick of time. Time nicks us all
sooner or later; thats democracy.
Once you were in Russia, and a woman
cut your hair. She bent you over a tub,
noosed you in a towel, and snipped away.
It was the best cut you ever got.
You drank tumblers of vodka with her husband.
The next day, your last in that country,
you took a bus to the Hermitage
and puked in the john until closing.
You didnt see a painting. Not one.
Somehow, youre this kind of person.
Its hard to believe, though you were voted
Most Likely to Yak in Russias Best Museum
with Good Hair. Dont you hate it
when high schools right? Dont you hate it
when 2nd person swishes its tongue inside your ear?
You wonder how youd do in solitary confinement.
You cant do long division in your head.
You dont know isometric exercises.
Edisons last words: It is beautiful over there.
Yours: These pretzels are making me thirsty.
You wonder if suffering makes people
more compassionate. Coleridge, caring
for his typhoid son, wrote by candlelight
twenty-three nights into the fever:
Turned a poor (very large & beautiful)
Moth out of the Window in a hard Shower
of rain to save it from the Flames!
Thats one kind of person.
When you visit your father who is dying
at last, and he turns, death-dumb,
and whispers, Did you bring Beth Ann?
You say, No. Thats another.