Twenty-eight

Today is my 28th birthday! On my favorite radio station back home, they used to do this sing-songy thing in the morning when people would call in with birthday wishes for their friends and family. It would go, "Hey yo MIKE!...Starquisha called, and said, ahhhh IT'S! YOUR BIRTHDAY!" I have had this little ditty bouncing around my head all day, because, as I mentioned before, it's my birthday.

Because it's my birthday, this morning I departed from my standard all-Cheerios breakfast regime and indulged in one of my favorite forbidden passions, Lucky Charms. They're delicious and turn your milk gray. After class I hustled over to the movie theater and caught an afternoon show of "No Country for Old Men," since it had been validated by the Academy, and actually enjoyed it since I could figure out when to look down to avoid seeing a variety of Texans get air-pistoled. It was nice to catch a movie by myself, surrounded by maybe a dozen old people or others with some unexpected weekday freedom. In a little while a few of our friends are coming over for dinner, and later on this week we're going out for some karaoke. It's a very pleasant day.

And I'm ready for a new year to start, too. Twenty-seven was getting a little thin, a little ragged around the edges. The evenness of 28, its divisibility by so many numbers, is a good sign. And it's a pretty inconspicuous number, as far as ages go; just another lap around the track, something to note as you pass by on your way to something new or familiar or unexpected or utterly predictable. I'm ready for some renewal. And today it begins.