Time Flies, but I Prefer Hitch-hiking
I've been sort of sad lately. Not crying-sad, just sort of melancholic. In one month I will be 29. Which is the last year of twentyness. This wouldn't be so bad if I had some sort of anything to show for it. Oh well, I'll just have to make the most of my last 13 months as a twentysomething. Maybe I can win a Nobel Prize or two.
Tomorrow my first cousin is turning 18. I remember quite clearly the day she was born. It was excting because up until that point me and my sister had no cousins- a side-effect of our parents being so young when they had us. Speaking of my parents, they will be celebrating their 29th anniversary later this week. Wow. Being married for 29 years is a formidable accomplishment. Turning 29 seems less so, but maybe if I just fool myself a bit, I can learn to accept, even embrace the aging process. As long as I stay immature enough to still enjoy poo jokes, I guess I will never truly get too old.
So anyways, happy brithday, C!
When I turned 18, she would have been 7, and she was convinced that I still had two more years to go until I was an adult (here in Alberta, 18 is the age of majority- you can vote, just like everywhere else, but you can also go to bars and buy alcohol, unlike a lot of other provinces). I've been waiting 11 years to get her back.
And I just remembered how sad I was when I turned 20, and this almost-decade has been pretty great, for the most part. So my 30's will be cool too. Maybe even cooler- I'm much smrter than I was ten years ago- back then I thought I was pretty smrt, and really wasn't, whereas now, I don't think I know much of anything, which is an improvement I think.