Bones
That Guy
Today is my birthday. I am 28 years old.
28 is an interesting year because it confirms what was already suspected: I am in my late 20's. No doubt about this. It's not the age that concerns me - in that I'm getting older or closer to dying or should be "settling down" soon or whatever - it's that at 28, one loses much of the abstract concept of his or her "potential." Meaning that at 28 and in your late twenties, you are very close to what you're going to be.
(Bear with me here, I promise I'm not stoned).
I think that, barring mid-life crisis during which I shave my head, come out of the closet, and join a hippie commune that grows wheat germ (which is really 50/50 at this point), now that I'm in my late twenties, I don't think I'm going to change much. Sure, over the next few years I may become less interested in poop jokes and seeing how many beers I can drink before breaking the seal and more interested in my 401K and home ownership, but what I have right now is about all what you're gonna get. And I know that nothing much has changed between 27 and 28, but with the passing of this year, now that I'm firmly planted in my late twenties, I've lost just that much more of my "potential." This is how I generally view birthdays. Every year that goes by I am more who I am. I'm not sure if that makes sense, but I really don't feel like trying too hard to explain it - nor do I have to, because it's my birthday.
(Also, I was lying - I am a little stoned. Sorry. What, I can't get high on my birthday?)
Otherwise, I feel good about my life so far up to 28. I have a job that I like. My family is great. I have cool friends. I've slept with a lot of women.* I live in the greatest city in the world. I get drunk until 4am every weekend. I still masturbate with the same frequency I did when I was 15. I eat with reckless abandon and at some of the nicest restaurants in the city, and I'm still nearly 40 pounds lighter than I was when I was in high school. I have a big screen TV, two iPods, four guitars, and 800 thread count sheets. Life is good. The only thing really missing in my life is that I've never experienced a championship by a Philly sports team. This is a source of great (GREAT) sadness for me, but all things considered, it's not a bad regret to have if it's your only one.
[* Or at least more than I ever thought possible when I was a freshman in college who didn't drink and stayed in on the weekends to masturbate in the dorm laundry room.**]
[** God, I wish I was joking about that.]
Tonight, to celebrate my birthday, I'm going to get high in the shower and masturbate my penis. You may ask how this is different from any other Tuesday night in my life, and I will tell you that it is not different at all (although I may push the grundle button a little, as it's a special occasion). But therein lies the theme for my 28th birthday and the next year of my life: Keeping It Real. My plan, for my 29th year on earth, is to keep it as real as possible. I'm not sure what this will entail exactly, but I'm guessing I'm going to have to stop tanning and hanging out with people I despise in order to advance my career in fashion. It matters not - I'll work out the specifics later. But Keeping It Real, at this moment, sounds like a good plan to follow for the next year. Let's make it official and add it to the list of previous years' birthday slogans:
25 - "Are You Gonna Finish That?"
26 - "Whore For Attention"
27 - "I Like Meatballs"
28 - "Keeping It Real"
(If you'd like to buy me a beer, I will fall in love with you a little more. You can do so by clicking on the "make a donation" button on the right. If you decide to do so, I can promise you this: whatever monies you donate will not be spent on rent, student loans, food, or even cab fare; I will spend it only on booze. Maybe a nice case of beer or a nice bottle of bourbon or a good bottle of wine, but it's gonna be alcohol, no doubt. Thank you in advance for your consideration and if you are not able to buy me booze, I'll settle for you throwing some good karma my way - and it goes without saying that boobies are always welcome. Booze, karma, and boobies. I'm a simple man, just keeping it real. Happy birthday to me.)
28 is an interesting year because it confirms what was already suspected: I am in my late 20's. No doubt about this. It's not the age that concerns me - in that I'm getting older or closer to dying or should be "settling down" soon or whatever - it's that at 28, one loses much of the abstract concept of his or her "potential." Meaning that at 28 and in your late twenties, you are very close to what you're going to be.
(Bear with me here, I promise I'm not stoned).
I think that, barring mid-life crisis during which I shave my head, come out of the closet, and join a hippie commune that grows wheat germ (which is really 50/50 at this point), now that I'm in my late twenties, I don't think I'm going to change much. Sure, over the next few years I may become less interested in poop jokes and seeing how many beers I can drink before breaking the seal and more interested in my 401K and home ownership, but what I have right now is about all what you're gonna get. And I know that nothing much has changed between 27 and 28, but with the passing of this year, now that I'm firmly planted in my late twenties, I've lost just that much more of my "potential." This is how I generally view birthdays. Every year that goes by I am more who I am. I'm not sure if that makes sense, but I really don't feel like trying too hard to explain it - nor do I have to, because it's my birthday.
(Also, I was lying - I am a little stoned. Sorry. What, I can't get high on my birthday?)
Otherwise, I feel good about my life so far up to 28. I have a job that I like. My family is great. I have cool friends. I've slept with a lot of women.* I live in the greatest city in the world. I get drunk until 4am every weekend. I still masturbate with the same frequency I did when I was 15. I eat with reckless abandon and at some of the nicest restaurants in the city, and I'm still nearly 40 pounds lighter than I was when I was in high school. I have a big screen TV, two iPods, four guitars, and 800 thread count sheets. Life is good. The only thing really missing in my life is that I've never experienced a championship by a Philly sports team. This is a source of great (GREAT) sadness for me, but all things considered, it's not a bad regret to have if it's your only one.
[* Or at least more than I ever thought possible when I was a freshman in college who didn't drink and stayed in on the weekends to masturbate in the dorm laundry room.**]
[** God, I wish I was joking about that.]
Tonight, to celebrate my birthday, I'm going to get high in the shower and masturbate my penis. You may ask how this is different from any other Tuesday night in my life, and I will tell you that it is not different at all (although I may push the grundle button a little, as it's a special occasion). But therein lies the theme for my 28th birthday and the next year of my life: Keeping It Real. My plan, for my 29th year on earth, is to keep it as real as possible. I'm not sure what this will entail exactly, but I'm guessing I'm going to have to stop tanning and hanging out with people I despise in order to advance my career in fashion. It matters not - I'll work out the specifics later. But Keeping It Real, at this moment, sounds like a good plan to follow for the next year. Let's make it official and add it to the list of previous years' birthday slogans:
25 - "Are You Gonna Finish That?"
26 - "Whore For Attention"
27 - "I Like Meatballs"
28 - "Keeping It Real"
(If you'd like to buy me a beer, I will fall in love with you a little more. You can do so by clicking on the "make a donation" button on the right. If you decide to do so, I can promise you this: whatever monies you donate will not be spent on rent, student loans, food, or even cab fare; I will spend it only on booze. Maybe a nice case of beer or a nice bottle of bourbon or a good bottle of wine, but it's gonna be alcohol, no doubt. Thank you in advance for your consideration and if you are not able to buy me booze, I'll settle for you throwing some good karma my way - and it goes without saying that boobies are always welcome. Booze, karma, and boobies. I'm a simple man, just keeping it real. Happy birthday to me.)
