7 years left
Well... it happened. again. I got older. again.
I've never really liked getting older. 21.. 16.. It just seems like things would be easier if we didn't have to deal with the passing of time. I undoubtedly would receive far fewer odd looks when spending too much money on toys and comics if I were say, 12. Probably not - I sure as hell wouldn't trust a 12 year old with a lot of money to spend...
Regardless, whenever possible, I tend to block out my mortality until the very last possible second - that time when strange people start shoving flaming deserts in my direction. However, the haunting reality was brought about slightly early this year by my good friend Kevin. While sitting in the bell tower of Crouse, waiting for a call which would allow us to leave, Kevin stated a simple yet disturbing fact: we would be 23 in a few days.
I know, 23 is not terrible. Most people will still have a good 50 years to live (I say most people because in my immediate circle of friends, this is our 7 year stretch. Anything past 30 is bonus points). But it is the beginning of the end. I see things only getting worse from now on. I see my friends getting jobs which will lead to careers. I see the same party animals of less than a year ago retiring to bed at 11, sometime 10 at night. And worst of all, for some reason, I see this as the year when a number of misguided fools will end up engaged.
Alas, what can men do against such reckless hate?
Oh well, the holiday went well. Rob was home briefly, which is always fun (consult some prior entry for some fantastic four fun). Too briefly, though. I gotta get down there and visit that boy.
As for now, I'm just laying pretty low. Debating on some plans for new years (if I don't have to work for Lenny) and possibly swinging down to Florida come January. Anyone up for some Islands of Adventure?
I've never really liked getting older. 21.. 16.. It just seems like things would be easier if we didn't have to deal with the passing of time. I undoubtedly would receive far fewer odd looks when spending too much money on toys and comics if I were say, 12. Probably not - I sure as hell wouldn't trust a 12 year old with a lot of money to spend...
Regardless, whenever possible, I tend to block out my mortality until the very last possible second - that time when strange people start shoving flaming deserts in my direction. However, the haunting reality was brought about slightly early this year by my good friend Kevin. While sitting in the bell tower of Crouse, waiting for a call which would allow us to leave, Kevin stated a simple yet disturbing fact: we would be 23 in a few days.
I know, 23 is not terrible. Most people will still have a good 50 years to live (I say most people because in my immediate circle of friends, this is our 7 year stretch. Anything past 30 is bonus points). But it is the beginning of the end. I see things only getting worse from now on. I see my friends getting jobs which will lead to careers. I see the same party animals of less than a year ago retiring to bed at 11, sometime 10 at night. And worst of all, for some reason, I see this as the year when a number of misguided fools will end up engaged.
Alas, what can men do against such reckless hate?
Oh well, the holiday went well. Rob was home briefly, which is always fun (consult some prior entry for some fantastic four fun). Too briefly, though. I gotta get down there and visit that boy.
As for now, I'm just laying pretty low. Debating on some plans for new years (if I don't have to work for Lenny) and possibly swinging down to Florida come January. Anyone up for some Islands of Adventure?