One Day More...

NOTE: Tomorrow, I turn 27 and, thus, tomorrow is the day that I must say goodbye to my mid-20's. Fortunately (for me AND for you) I've gotten past the "Holy shit-ness" of the situation and have now moved on to the "Good times, man..." portion of the grieving process. So, with that in mind, here's a tribute to my 24th, 25th, and 26th year...

Mid-20's, I Hardly Knew Ye: A Tribute

First, to get us in the mood, let's all listen to the only song that is appropriate for wistful, fond remembrance montages. Also, can you believe this song came out ten years ago!?!? I mean, fuck:



Ahhh... it's just like prom, isn't it? Or, if not prom, then that retrospective clip show that NBC did before the last episode of Seinfeld. Anyway, let's get on with it:

2ND NOTE: As I was reviewing my memories of the last few years, I realized that I mostly just hung out with Girlfriend, drank with friends in bars, saw some baseball games, and started this blog. That was about it, unless you count work, which I don't. So, in order to make this a more lively, interesting look back, I've gone ahead and made up a bunch of crap that didn't technically happen, but probably would have had I been in the right place at the right time. You understand, I'm sure. Go ahead and play the Green Day song again, as it will help to sustain the mood through the obvious fictions. Oh. and keep playing it for the duration of the read, too. Unless you're sick of it (which is understandable). Then... uh... don't, I guess. Whatever. Maybe you could play that new song... that "Hey There, Delilah" by the Plain White T's... instead. It's pretty much the same thing.

Hey, remember that time...

...I had a dramatic fistfight in an alley behind a bar? I looked like a husky Jackie Chan as I beat up all those guys and everyone cheered when I finally snapped the last thugs neck. That the "thugs" turned out to be a bunch of Boy Scouts and I ended up going to "jail," is of no consequence. Well, what were they doing wearing those ski masks???

...I took a long, dramatic walk in the rain as I nursed a broken heart, just like Lloyd Dobler (or any of John Cusak's classic characters)? I caught a horrible case of pneumonia, but it was totally worth it for the aesthetic value.

...I hit the winning home run, dramatically, in the final game of a non-specific, uncopyrighted baseball tournament that saw us go from lovable loser underdogs to champions with hearts of gold?

...I was wacky? With pies, maybe? Or perhaps a seltzer bottle.

...we danced around in our pajamas to classic Motown music while singing into our hairbrushes and bonding as sisters?

...I thought I saw a ghost, but it was really Old Man McGillicutty who owned the abandoned taffy factory just outside of town? I killed him, stole his wallet, and buried him in a shallow grave outside of town! Or... uh... no, I didn't. (wink)

...I learned the true meaning of Christmas when I served soup at the orphanage? Even the botulism that everyone contracted because I forgot to wash my hands after handling all that raw pork couldn't dampen the magic of that evening.

...I got freaky with a naked Reese Witherspoon? Yeah, me too. That was awesome. And it totally happened. Prove it didn't!!!

...we all hung out at my place and watched scary movies and ate Doritos until we felt kind of sick, but it was all cool because we felt better after we took some Maalox and had a nice BM? (What, they can't all be dramatic home runs, ya know)

...I met our special guest stars THE HARLEM GLOBETROTTERS!?!?

Yep, we had some good times. Good... times.... (sobbing hysterically while clutching a bottle of something strong). Goddammit... stupid Green Day and their songs that were written totally just for me!!! Why do you torment me so, Billie Joe Armstrong?!?!