So the big 2-5 is on Tuesday. I'm starting to have a mild panic attack about it, kind of like the one I had when I turned 20. I remember sitting in my Leonardtown apartment/dorm in pajamas with this hideous argyle ribbon in my hair, waiting for the clock to hit midnight. And when it did, I cried. I was no longer a teenager. I could no longer relate to songs like "Baba O'Reilly (Teenage Wasteland for those of you who don't really know The Who) or Scenes from an Italian Restaurant by Billy Joel (cold beer, hot lights, my sweet romantic teenage nights), or even Wheatus (Teenage Dirtbag kicked off my first year of JV field hockey in high school). I felt like I had lost something, it was entirely tragic.
I drank myself silly on my 20th birthday, managing a concussion after hitting my head on the bathroom sink while my roommate attempted to take my pants off (in a good helpful way, not a date rape way). After that, I grew accustomed to my age situation and since then have never had a problem with any of my birthdays.
Twenty-five is one that I'm on the fence about. For one, I'll be closer to 30 than I am to 20. Terrifying. But then I think about the fact that despite all my fucking retarded moments and bad decisions, I've survived this far and had a damn good time doing it. I'm also on the cusp of hopefully getting my story out to the masses, and for me, that's an accomplishment at 25. I also still only weigh 110lbs. Bitch.
I'm celebrating my birthday tomorrow in the West Village with friends. I'll be drinking Blue Point and hitting on boys in plaid shirts and reminiscing about my college life with my old roommates, and jersey chasing stories with Michelle and Jock, and enjoying the fact that despite hating my bar sometimes, I've made some fabulous friends there are well who will also be present.
I want nothing more than to put this story out there. Like, there was a time in my life I focused all my energy into getting a guy to date me. And the last few months, with all the ups and downs, I've managed to, for the first time in a very very long time, focus on me, and something that has made me insanely proud. I never knew what it was to have a job that you really loved. Don't get me wrong, I do really like my job at BV's and it affords me so many perks that I couldn't imagine doing anything for the last two years while I figured shit out. But I love to write. And the last few months, this whole thing has been an amazing experience. I just want it to keep going, and hopefully it will.
Like I said, I've got the basic okay from two lawyers, I've picked a photographer for the cover art, and my fabulous former coworker from the DBK will be copyediting my manuscript before it goes online. I have three chapters to finish - all three stories that have not been shared on the blog, and in my opinion, two of them are some of the funniest. But I'll leave you guys to be the judge.
I pieced the chapters together tonight, or at least what I have completed. Most of it's really funny in my opinion, some of it is reflective and looks at some parts of sports and relationships not many people get to see, one chapter made me very nostalgic writing it out. It looks good. It is very me. It is written exactly how I tell it verbally. I'm proud of it and like I said, I'm chomping at the bit to get it out there finally.
The next two days I'm going to take a break from the blog to a.) enjoy my birthday celebrations tomorrow and b.) finish the last three chapters that need to be written. Don't hate me, it's the weekend anyway you fucks. And the sooner I get the chapters done, the soon you get to read the whole thing.
I've been talking with David Pakman recently about doing an interview with his show, so I'm hoping that will come up within the next two weeks or so. It'll be good, because you guys will finally get to see me on video. Good for you, anyway, maybe not so good for me. Regardless, I'll keep you posted on that.
On that note, I'm going to go watch Sleepers (such a good movie) and hit the sac. I am meeting with the potential photog tomorrow and want to get some shit in order. Enjoy the weekend you little stalkers, and I'll be back on Monday pending I survive tomorrow. And considering I survived last Saturday (though just barely), I'm pretty sure we'll be okay.
PS-this is me when I was 20.