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quarter century.

That’s how long I’ve been on this Earth. (That’s right, almost a Halloween baby.)

It’s hard to remember all of childhood, but what I do remember is constantly wanting to be older. When I was a toddler, I wanted to go to school (lucky for me, this actually happened at age 4 since the doctors told my mom “your daughter will be bored if you don’t put her in school”.) When I was in school I simply wanted to be older, so I wouldn’t be such a shrimp anymore (apparently I used to come home and cry to my mom “I’m a shrimp mom! When am I gonna grow??” The obvious downside to staring school much younger than everyone else.)

When I was about 10, I just wanted to be in middle school. (Seriously, who wants to be in middle school?! I would never go back there. How awkward.) Then I wanted to be 13, so I’d finally be a teenager. And of course, once you’re in your early teens you CAN’T WAIT to be 16 so you can drive. Except the moment I turned 16 I was driving around my kid sister. (Love you Kristie!) Shortly after 16, I couldn’t wait to be 18, because who doesn’t want to be officially LEGAL!? The only thing I remember about my 18th birthday was carving pumpkins with some high school friends after class one night. I didn’t do anything to celebrate being legal, not even buying a lottery ticket.

Oh but I remember my 19th birthday. See, Michigan is so close to Canada and when you turn 19 you cross the border to get liquored up, since that’s the drinking age in Canada.  (That would be the weekend I stood up in front a jam-packed loud bar and belted out a Dixie Chicks song on a karaoke machine. Crazy, eh?)

But 20 was good too, from what I recall of it anyway. I remember dressing up in the ugliest polyester pants I’ve ever seen and throwing a long black wig over my head and calling myself Cher to get into the bar with a fake ID. Of course on Halloween it worked, because who has time to check all those IDs for more than 1 second anyway?

So after that I eagerly anticipated the big 2-1.

Which, when it came, was a huge festival because I was just about the last person I knew to turn 21 (that lived in Michigan at the time anyway). My mom even came out with us and did a shot of Hot Damn with me. I just remember being followed around that bar by the huge bouncers because, once they figure out it’s your 21st birthday they watch you like a hawk and only allow you to have 3 shots (Isn’t that a crock? Apparently they’d had issues with people getting sick on their 21st because THEY CAN’T HANDLE THEIR LIQUOR). But of course the bar got busy, it being a Saturday night and all, and they lost track of me. And the other thing? There were 3 separate bars so of course it was easier to obtain multiple shots. (And no, this champ did not get sick.)

After 21, I looked forward to 25 simply because, as I’ve heard, my car insurance premium should decrease significantly (that remains to be seen). But I have stopped saying “I can’t wait to be…” I just want to BE. I just want to live life and smile and laugh everyday. Simple, right?

And I hear life gets better. So I ask you, what were you doing at 25? What do you hope to be doing at 25?

I leave you with this photo of me on my 21st. No judgments please.

P.S. I had already drafted this post with the title Quarter Century when Heather beat me by a few days. I can only aspire to be as good a writer as she is. Stop by her blog sometime if you haven’t already!

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6 Responses

  1. I’ve already said it on Facebook, but I’ll say it again… happy birthday! =)

    25 is a pretty big deal. While I’d like to think I’ll be living in Florida with my boyfriend, a great job &, most importantly, a dog (I hate you! hahaha) it’s hard to say what I’ll be doing. Ever since I graduated in April 2006, things have sort of been put on hold so that my very driven boyfriend could pursue his goals. I haven’t minded it so much because a) he’s aware and appreciative of the sacrifices I’ve made, and b) because I sort of don’t really know what my goals are anymore; I’m still trying to figure that out.

    His goal of going to a really great business school could take us a number of places: Ann Arbor, Chicago, Pennsylvania, California or New York. And while that’s incredibly frightening to think about, specifically because I wouldn’t be a drive away from my family, I think it’s what I need to do, too, to find a job I love, because Lord knows I’m not finding it in this dying state we call Michigan.

    At this point, though, if in less than a year from now, I’m living in a bigger apartment with a washer & dryer, and a little bulldog running around, I’ll consider myself doing okay 😀

  2. I love this post. I have always wanted to turn 25 and then I quit caring once I hit it. My insurance would get cheaper, I would somehow look like an adult once I turned 25 and people would quit hassling me about having 2 legitimate children. When turned 25 I was visiting my parents (good choice) and then I flew home (bad choice) with my kids alone.

    Happy Birthday to you!

  3. You can also rent a car!

    Hope you have a wonderful, wonderful day and a great time in Boston!

  4. Happy Birthday.

    I’m only 23, so I can’t say what my 25th birthday will be like. Where do I want to be when I am 25? I’m not sure.

  5. Happy Birthday!! Now go rent yourself a car. That’s what I’m doing next week and it’s like the greatest feeling ever.

  6. @ Erica, and that is what I wish for you…a dog to call your own!

    thank you all 🙂 happy wishes fulfilled!

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