A Grim Milestone - From the Roaring Twenties, into the Dirty Thirties

Sure has been quiet around here.

Welcome to 2007 everyone. I've enjoyed this year so far, and unlike quite a few stories that have been pettled in the press that I've been reading, I didn't have any ill feelings towards 2006--it was personally a great year for me. The world might be going to hell in a handbasket, but I've got my lunch packed up, my shoes tied tight, just hoping I don't get in...a...fight...

So, its been a week of lists and milestones, and keeping in the general spirit of season, I've got a big milestone that I'll be reaching tomorrow. I will be turning Thirty (aka 30, XXX, |||| |||| |||| |||| |||| ||||) years-old.

I debated the self-indulgence that comes with announcing one's own birthday. Thus I'd avoid exposing my readership to any obligatory offerings of congratulatons and bad singing, along with any associated guilty feelings about not remembering to buy me that 1968 Telecaster that I've wanted for five years. Then I remembered that I'm a propritor of a blog, which is by its very nature self-indulgent, so my feelings of false humility were smashed and quickly replaced with anticipation as I hoped, HOPED, that one of you out there might just have enough means to bring that six stringed mermaid to my eager and ichy ten fingers.

Did I say mermaid? I meant guitar.

Anyway, how do I feel about kissing my twenties good-bye?

Good riddance. Your twenties are filled with insecurities, foolish endeavors, cheap booze, loose women and piles of laundry that only get done when you can't shut your closet door. I'm glad that the accumulation of ten years of experience, and the residual procurement of more resources, have helped me to securely engage in more insanely foolish, but deliberate endeavors, consume more expensive booze, interact with loose women who have brains, beauty and a future, and to have gained the awareness of wash-and-fold cleaners.

It is about figuring how to somethings well and then doing them better.

It is also about using more commas in run-on sentence that would create a mess in your English teacher's stomach that could also be done with 6-day old sushi and gallon of milk.

As my twenties now close, I can look in the mirror and stand proud. I'm feeling better than ever and it is time to celebrate. There is going to be a rather rowdy party commemorating this event, and if you can find someway to get yourself out here, you are coordially invited. Please make sure that you do your absolute best to be on your worst behavior and that you'll thoughtfully consider donating a 1968 Telecaster to the Ten Fingers, 6 Strings Fund.

If you can't do that, a merma...I mean, a shot of whiskey will do.

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UPDATE: Due to the multiple festivities celebrating this milestone, it might be about sennight for me to return to writing here. In the meantime, know that I love you ferociously and will see you soon.