Nothing Special, Really

Monday, July 9, 2007

Live Free Or Party Hard

For the record, I saw Live Free Or Die Hard on 4th of July, not Transformers. Not to spoil the movie, but (shocker!) John McLane doesn't die hard this time, either.

I've already had two inquiries regarding my desires for a birthday gift this year. One from the girlfriend, one from the parents. It's just more than a year away. The big 2-9. The last of the roaring twenties.

In my mind, I'm already past the twenties. When I think about people "in their twenties" I think about people that are 24 & under. I really think that there should be a new category - the "twenty-fives". If we don't think about people who are 13 and 19 as the same, despite both being "in their teens", then why do we do it for people who are 23 and 29? I look at 23 year olds, and the only thing that I see in common is the first digit in our age. And our cool hipster glasses.

I feel closer to 30 (and on some days, closer to 40) then I do to 20, and the obvious answer is, well, you are closer to 30. But I'm not really that far removed from the 20 year old partier I used to be. It wasn't that long ago that I was drinking vodka straight out of the bottle, jumping off roofs into swimming pools, and finding a way to work at 9 in the morning after being up until 3am.

Granted, all of that has taken a toll on my body, certainly, and I never really did anything to offset that. I can't drink sugar-y alcoholic drinks anymore, I pretty much need to stay away from beer with the risk of diabetes looming over me, and even if I ignored it all, there's always a hangover to cope with, and I was never really good at doing that to begin with.

I feel like I'm straddling that fine line between being young enough to still hang with the twenty-year olds or being old enough that it becomes kinda creepy to them. Like the time Wac and I went to a friend's house party that was full of underage U-Dub brats. Full of drunk sluts (male & female) to the point that no one was walking, they were just trampling, we lasted about 5 minutes before we said "fuck this noise" and made a quick exit. On our way out, we heard someone remark "did you see that 40-year old couple that was here, the bald guy?"

Sucks for Wac that she becomes 40 by default just from hanging around me.

Anyways, Wac has mentioned a couple times about how she's sometimes bothered by the fact that she just doesn't have the energy to go out & party like she used to. Apparently, she was more apt to go out and pound some shots of tequila before she met me. Again, see what hanging around me does to you? Regardless, I too often feel like I don't have the energy to go out, but in my case, it's that I rarely have the money to drop down on a bar tab for the night. Combined with the fact that I start work at 8am Monday through Friday, and add to that the number of other activities that I have going on each week (ok, most of that is online poker), and going out and getting shitfaced happens less often than it used to.

So what do I want for my birthday?

Hangovers. Shots galore. Happy hours. Drunken debauchery. One more year of being "in my twenties." I've got the rest of my life to be an old man. I've only got one more year to be a young one.

But yes, I promise to be reponsible health-wise as well.

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