So it’s my birthday. I don’t generally like birthdays, it’s just another day that in my childhood happened to include a cake and gifts. Now I’m a fan of both cake and gifts, but birthdays are nothing to go crazy over.

Especially now that I’m old. I mean seriously, I have to tell people that I’m 22 ancient years old and in 8 months will also have to say I have a master’s degree. That’s freaking old.

I feel a strong urge to go to Toys R’ Us and buy something, anything, just to stave off the whole aging process, or find that time machine from Napoleon Dynamite to go back to a much cooler age like 19. Or maybe I should just have some tots.

I was also informed that as a 22 year old, alcohol is no longer allowed. I had a year to get in all the drinking I wanted for my entire life, and now it’s time to coast on out. I think it’s cyclical, age 42 and 63 will be trashfests I’m sure.