older. wiser. fewer carbs. same great taste.

i'm 25 today.

i can rent a car, pay less for insurance.
i've been legally drinking for four years to the day, and boy is my liver tired.
five years from today i'll be thirty.
in two years i'll be the age that my mother was when she had me.

i had convinced myself that today would be a normal day; that no one would care that it was my birthday; that once you hit 21, every birthday after that is kind of anti-climactic. i've gotten so wrapped up in my zombie-like schedule that making one day more important than the last seems like a waste of time. after buying myself a ridiculous birthday present (a digital camera, so that i can capture the crazy shit that goes on in my life and post it on this very 'blog), i was complaining to t. that i missed the excitement i used to get from birthdays. "you're having a party. a party with thirty or forty people and a keg." i shut up.

i woke up this morning at 6.30, an hour before my alarm was to go off. i couldn't go back to sleep, excited that it was my birthday, excited for our triple-threat birthday party tonight. my mother just called and told me, "i think that 25 is a much bigger deal than 21. you've started your life. of course, it makes me feel old to know that my baby is a quarter-century, but just know that i love you, and that i'm thinkin' about you. and be excited that you're 25."

i am.