Saturday, September 3, 2016

This Is 40

Last week I turned 40.  I knew this would happen eventually.  I just didn't think it would happen so soon.  It seems like not long ago I was in college, and trying to turn my life around.  Well, in a weird series of events I am back in college and still trying to turn my life around.

Yeah, I really go here:

I was hoping to get a cake that looked like this:

Instead my cake was a little more like this, this year:

I knew it was coming.  I remember when my Father turned 40.  The family was up in West Virginia.  I lost a tooth, and Uncle Jim had the home video camera out, recording everything.  The cake was black.  The plates and plastic silverware was black.  Even the napkins were black.  I kind of felt bad for Dad.  All those, "Lordy, Lordy, Look Who's 40," sayings posted everywhere. 

But despite me never having a birthday party where I invited friends over, I had the bright idea to have one.  This lead to all sorts of weirdness.  Namely, a lot of anxiety whether anyone would show up.  Also, I used Facebook to send all my invitations, and 75% of my "friends" never responded to my invite.  I asked a number of times that if anyone couldn't make it to just say so.  Either way, I needed to know how much cake to bring.

In the end I had mostly female friends show up, so I can't be too mad about that.  There was plenty of cake and veggie sticks for everyone.  I didn't receive as many presents as I would have liked, but it was supposed to be more about, "the experience."  On a side note, a 70's throwback disco/funk band called, "Raspberry Pie," played during my party.  They were really tight.

But on a different note, I guess I should be thankful.  My hair is still black.  I'm surprised it hadn't turned gray yet.  Even my Mom had gray hairs when she was 12.  Yes, that's not a misprint.  Her first grays started popping out when she was 12.  Her brothers also went gray early.  I figured I would be gray young as well.  Now I do have a patch of angry gray/white hairs on my chinny, chin-chin, but I don't have very many on my head. 

I mean, I'm not as good looking as Paul Rudd at 40, but I'm better than I thought I would be.

So, they say that age is just a number, but so is breaths per minute, and that's kind of important.  I won't look at this as getting older, I will look at it as leveling up.

Also, I'm riding a Chocobo.

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