Mar. 4, 2001
Special Birthday Edition (My Birthday, not Yours)

You know, birthdays put me in a weird frame of mind. They don’t depress me like they do some people; in fact, I love my birthday. It’s my favorite holiday all year, it’s at the beginning of March, which is a fantastic time to have something to celebrate what with all of us having survived February and all, and I usually try to make it go on for at least a week or two and have at least three different celebrations. But here’s the thing: I’m kind of… old. Like, not in a bad way, don’t get me wrong, but seriously, how did I get so old? I had this weird out-of-body experience last week at choir practice when I was walking to my car. I was talking to this guy in the choir about that awful Hardball show, and it was raining a bit, and then I got to my car and got in it and turned the key in the ignition and drove away. And it occurred to me that not only did I know how to drive, it was second nature to me now. I barely remember the learning process. This maybe isn’t making so much sense to you, but it just felt really strange. Like, how did I get here? How did I get to this point where I drive my own car, have my own apartment, buy my own food, go to work, and join choirs all on my own?

I like that I’m here, for the most part. I certainly wouldn’t be young again if you paid me. Most people have this vision of childhood as an idyllic time, but I’m pretty sure most people don’t remember their childhood all that well. Anyone who thinks children are happy and their lives blissfully simple just doesn’t remember what it was like to be a child. On the other hand, most people do remember their miserable adolescence. I’ve been e-mailing my friend Althea, who lives in Holland, about that time in our lives; my sister and I met her when we were all in high school. I was the one with a car and a license, so I drove us around to downtown parking lots, weird parties of people we didn’t even know, and other stuff I’d have had absolutely no interest in on my own. I always just assumed that Althea was my sister’s friend because why would she like a nerd like me? Then I went to visit her in Holland after I graduated from college and realized that her nostalgia for that time in her life included me too, that she’d loved me all along. It’s like looking through a kaleidoscope when I think about my life back then; I see everything from different angles now.

I’m 28, y’all. 28! It seems crazy to me to be that age. When I was younger I just assumed that 25 was some sort of cutoff point and that by the time I’d turned 25 I would be married (or at least have found my one true love) and well on the path of my chosen career. I never would have guessed that I’d be trying to get started on a music career or that I’d still be going on blind dates at the age of 28. (OK, so that last part is a little depressing.) But all in all, it’s a pleasant surprise, all this continued hope and possibility. It’s like every year after 25 is an unexpected gift, and I have all the more reason to celebrate.

What's in my stereo at home