Monday, February 04, 2008

2 years on and 14 days left to go

That's right. 2 years ago yesterday, I started this blog out of sheer boredom. Ah, it's great to see the quality of writing is still as rubbish, with content still as random as ever.

On a secondary random note, I currently have 14 days, (well 13 days and 20 mintues but who's being pinicky), of my 20s. I realised recently that I've been cheating myself out of my 29th year by constantly forgetting I'm not actually 30 yet.. I find myself reading lots of "now you're in your 30s" articles on the net, miscalculating people's ages, and generally, forgetting how old I am. I actually have to keep reminding myself that I'm 29. Well, I at least get to do that for the next 14 days...

So how do I feel about that hitting my 30's? I'm not sure yet... Part of me has resigned myself to the inevitablity of getting older, that it's just another year, and it probably won't make much of a difference to my day to day life..

And part of me is seriously FREAKING THE FUCK OUT.

30. In my 30's. Three. Zero. No longer 20's. No longer late, late 20's. In mah early 30's. And that's just a slipperly down hill slope to my 40s.

ARGGHH.

Seriously, double Makauley Culkin Home Alone screaming: AAAAAAHHRRGGH.

30.

The only plus side to having only 14 days left of my 20s is that we're well into Birthday Season! For the uninitiated, Birthday Season is the 19 days before my birthday, where I get to do pretty much anything I like. Why? Cause it's Birthday Season. How does it differ from every day life? Cause I get to say "but come on, it's Birthday Season!".

We (not the royal We, but The Magic, Dr D and I) started it off with a bang last Friday with pints of finest ale, 2 bottles of champagne, many mojitos and ameretto (which I haven't drunk since my mid 20s, which kinda makes sense since the guy who keeps buying ameretto is turning (in his words) the "Big 2 5" (ah shut the fuck up)). Birthday Season then proceeded with lovely hangover at orchestra on Saturday, and an afternoon watching Superman II (the Donner Version - it's freakin random) on the Magic's MASSIVE HD Wall of Cinematic Beauty, lying on his couch, eating fish and chips. Ah so good.

On a quick random aside, Christopher Reeves when he is arguing with Marlon Brando about wanting to run away with the cool Louis Lane (not the whiney annoying Kate Boswell, yuck) is seriously, seriously hot. Don't believe me? Check it out for yourself: Superman, angst, cuteness, petuently arguing with this Dad about why he can't quit his caped life and go get some. ANGST. So cool. You can keep your Batmans and your spideys. Superman rocks. (Ok, seriously: I'm writing about Superman being cool. How can I be mature enough to be in my 30s in 14 days time? Honestly? There should be some sort of test you have to pass before you leave your 20s to check if you're emotionally and mentally ready..)



Tonight C & I (who's also celebrating her own birthday season), went to a private opening of the British Science Museum, where we got a tour of the Age of Computing exhibition, (yes, I was kinda excited about it, yes cause I'm really quite sad). We got to see Charles Babagges Difference Machine 2, and a picture of Ada Lovelace to which I wanted to whisper to C "she was boffing Babbage you know. It's in all the computing science books. First time uber nerds got to shag ever, so it's all the university material, as a beacon of hope to nerds universally that some other geek will find your own brand of sadness endearing and sexy".

So there you go. Birthday Season, 20s, 30s, Superman being a total hottie. Here's to another year of total Panda randomness....

1 comment:

tm said...

Lois Lane: I'm fucking Superman!
Superman: She's fucking Superman! On the bed, on the floor, on a towel by the door. In the tub, in the car, up against the mini bar.