My journal is 1000!

[kleenexwoman]

1000 entries!

Oh yeah, and I turned 22 yesterday. I had a very quiet birthday, involving long walks through a parking lot with Seth, looking at the amazing clouds and watching a storm roll in, and absinthe (I had a little; it tasted like licorice and was very strong, and definitely made me feel funny but I did not hallucinate). I feel that 22 is not a big deal of a birthday. At 21, you can drink and have passed the last legal barrier into adulthood. At 22, you are...older than you were at 21. Whoop whoop. It's time to stop being excited about being on your own and time to start freaking out about the possibility of accidentally growing into a dull person.

Today was Mainstage, where all the little student clubs set up booths in a field and try to wrangle innocent freshmen into joining their club. The Fiction Collective finally got their shit together and set one up about a half hour after the thing had actually started. (There is a trend here.) Fortunately, we got a ton of people signing up for the mailing list and taking flyers, so maybe we won't die out after all.
(It's also kind of weird to think that this is the last Mainstage I will go to. Everything is just weird. What do I do after this?)

Comments

[anivad.livejournal.com]

Happy belated birthday!

I was waiting for the time difference to make it yesterday over there too, and then I forgot all about it. D:

...How's the PIT script?

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!!

[wolf-heart9.livejournal.com]

I'd meant to tell you sooner, but my brain has melted with the impending start of my school semester. I did post pics today though to LJ.

But even if it was quiet, I hope your birthday was good!

*hugs*

Belated Happy Birthday!

[fiat-knox.livejournal.com]

Many Happy Returns, cariad! :)

I technically became an adult at 16 back home, but it really took me until I was 23 before I really came into my own. By which time I had discovered the sheer, unadulterated joys of Discordianism, roleplaying games (specifically Traveller) and computer programming.

To most people, I tell them that the period between, say, 18 and 23 - you'll never remember. The year you spend as a 23 year old, you should never forget.

[cobaltnine.livejournal.com]

Now wait, there's two more tiny limits: at 25 people stop charging you an arm and a leg to rent a car, and at 35 one can become President. I don't recommend the latter, but the former is surprisingly important if one travels.

[sir-dave.livejournal.com]

Happy birthday, there is for sure only one of you ;)

[cortocorto.livejournal.com]

Happy Birthday!

[dormant-shadow.livejournal.com]

Grad school is what you should do after Central, of course, because the real world is just too scary!

Mind, I can't really endorse grad school yet, as I don't technically start grad school for another two hours (which is when I'll be teaching my first class), but I've had a great time drinking with my fellow first-year MFAers. In my mind, that alone is worth it. :-)

[benprime.livejournal.com]

22 can be a very good year (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tSZnAN2YzQI). ...Ok it didn't rate a mention in the song, but that doesn't mean it won't be very good. It is full and ripe with possibility. Not least because you do _not_ know what you will do.

[josephwaldman.livejournal.com]

Happy berfday, my sweet. Hope you got the card.

You're entering the first phase of true boring adulthood. It sucks, but you can't do anything about it. At least senility and incontinence are still several decades away.

WATCH THE CONVENTION!!!

[dr-ninjapants.livejournal.com]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!

[inkhornsybarite.livejournal.com]

22 is best year ever.

[josephwaldman.livejournal.com]

Oh man, club day on campus. That's always fun.

My senior year I was for some weird reason a bit of a dandy. Part of it is that I'd always dressed like a total slob (ratty T-shirts, shredded jeans I'd owned since I was fourteen, horrible crappy sneakers) -- didn't even own a proper suit of clothes. Then all of a sudden that summer I got really self-conscious and did a bunch of shopping at Goodwill, and tried to wear the two or three suits I bought there as often as I could. So I showed up for the clubs fair that September dressed to the nines, and looked like a damn fool, because I was there in my capacity as president of college Dems, and looked like the asshole who was in charge of the college GOP, whose booth was right next to mine. I got a bunch of people to show up, but I think they thought I was a weirdo (I mean, a whole different kind of weirdo than I actually am -- and not a good one).

What do you do after this? You spend the next five or six years or so trying desperately to return to the womb that is college. You figure some more things out on your own. You drink beer and stare into space. Then you figure things out. (Puberty, unfortunately, doesn't end until you're thirty or so, with all its raging hormones and uncertainties.)

[neverreal.livejournal.com]

Happy 1000 entries!
And happy belated birthday!!
Also, I didn't know I was older than you. Only marginally, but still. Clearly, every year we have known each other I've somehow not realised that. (Please forgive the terrible structure of that sentence!!)