And I am now officially on the late twenties side of 25. This has me concerned that by now I should have my shit together, or at least have a more respectable shit-together versus shit-all-over-the-place ratio. Or at the very least I should act more like an adult.
(If you’re thinking, ‘wait, you’re getting married soon and that’s a shit-together sort of thing to be doing,’ you might be right, except it’s really just an elaborate excuse to have honeymoon in New Zealand so that we can frolic with the hobbits and then drink them under the table at The Green Dragon.)
But then I remembered that I have a blog and am practically required to have my shit all over the place so that I have things to write and draw about. Who would want to read a blog about the adventures of some sensible and responsible girl who doesn’t chase people around her house making weirdly unnerving comsognathus noises, is so organised that she never runs out of toilet paper (yesterday, when I was the only person in the house, I realised post-pee that we had run out, so I was trapped until I worked up the courage to risk a slow-motion, tip-toeing tissue-finding expedition, which I am proud to say was successful, and thanks to my careful footwork, drip-free), and would under no circumstances interrupt already-complicated lists with parenthetical anecdote-overshares so you forget what the list was about in the first place and can’t remember what punctuation should go at the end? (Surprise! It was a question the whole time. I went back and checked.)
So maybe it’s okay.
And that’s comforting.
But then I learned that Taylor Swift is the same age as me. And when I say ‘the same age’, I mean the difference between our birthdays isn’t statistically significant. I did the maths and everything. So, theoretically, we were born at the same time. And I even look like her.
Well, I have the same colour hair as her.
Almost.
You know, it’s what’s on the inside that really matters. And the point is that we are very similar and therefore I should have achieved a comparable level of shit-together-ness in the same amount of time, but I haven’t. When sixteen-year-old me made the decision to dedicate her free time to NaNoWriMo rather than releasing pop country albums, she had no idea of the ramifications that would echo down the years.
But I know what you’re going to say. Shake it off.
Oh wait, I have chronic fatigue syndrome and couldn’t even win a dance competition against a jellyfish.
Looks like you win this round, Taylor Swift and jellyfish. See you at 30.
Silence Killed The Dinosaurs 
Happy birthday. I took a lot longer than over-the-hill-20s to get my shit together. See you well before you’re 30.
I suspect no one actually has their shit together. You just get better at pretending.
It doesn’t matter, believe me. I have less of a clue now than ever. Spend your energy on something more fun. (K)
Sound advice!
Seriously, getting you shit together is highly overrated. I’m retired and still wondering if I will ever figure out what I want to be when I grow up :D
Happy happy birthday and good wishes for the year to come!!
u ‘n mee 2 kid.
Thank you! Yes, I’m beginning to think that growing up isn’t actually a thing. It’s just a myth to make you behave. Kind of like Father Christmas but for adults.
we are, apparently, in different circles, or sum uthur feature of geometry, but I’ve met (far too) many people who think, and believe, and make a strong effort to emulate, “grown-up-ed-ness” (a friend of mine re-labeled it: groaned-up)
Groaned-up is an excellent way of putting it.
Happy Birthday! Hasn’t Taylor Swift had lots of boyfriend problems? You are getting married soon, so you win!
I guess there’s always that!
I was a highly responsible 25 year old. Now I’m living out my childhood 30 years later. Wish I’d started that a little sooner! Lives go along in such odd ways, the only thing to say is – Happy birthday and may every day of it be a lot of fun or at least, very interesting!
Thank you! A second childhood sounds like a great idea. I hope you are having lots of fun with yours!
I am and I think it’s even nicer since I know I’m doing it, and I don’t have to stop and grow up!
Happy Birthday! I hope you’re having a great, super-fantastic day!
Thank you! I had an amazing day.
Happy birthday lovely lady!! I hopped the wrong side of 30 & am still trailing my shit through life…& that’s with 2 kids along for the ride too!! :D I’m sure one day, I will hit the mythical realms of the sorted grown up. Right? Right?? Anyways, I’m glad you had a nice birthday & now you can get your jingle on, yay! :)
I sort of think that the mythical realms of the sorted grown up really are mythical. I had a fantastic birthday, and now I can put the Christmas tree up and do present wrapping and go looking for Christmas lights!
Kind of like dragons, people talk about them, you sort of wonder if they did ever exist once but realise it’s very unlikely!! I’m glad you are able to get festive now!! I’m gonna do some wrapping in front of arrested development I think.
As a follower of your blog, I wouldn’t have you any other way. Can’t wait to read about the frolicking with the hobbits! Happy birthday!
Thank you!
It still don’t have my shit together and I’m a LOT older than you… happy birthday :)
Haha, thank you.
is EVRY-1 hear older ‘n silence? i past 2/3xCENTURY not too long ago. and like a dumb kid i recently stumbled out onto the ice to pretend to be goalie whilst under the influences. after the initial TERROR subsided, it wuzza lotta phunn ~
oh: what’s NaNoWriMo? and comsognathus? i’m gonna hafta lookemupp ~
Happy googling!
Yes, I noticed the age thing too. Apparently I’m young for my blog? Interesting.
no you are not young 4 yer blog.
I havvvnt lurnd mutsch, but I am starting to believe that most of us, maybe more than 93.4%, are at the age we are supposed to be.
but i’m not sure what age I should be. consider: how deranged is your typical 2/3-century-year-old that he (i’d want to meet the “she” who would do this) would be just a little bit drunk, then unexpectedly come under the influence of a ‘strong’ cannabis high to go out on the ice and pretend to be a goalie in a game of players from under-20 to almost 50 year olds?
maybe after a couple more times like this, I might post a ‘worthwhile’ blog about this ~
With 7 billion people in the world it seems statistically likely that at least one of the shes would enjoy drunk ice-hockey. It’s a big world, but you may meet her yet.
I think age and drunk ice-hockey (or just drunk ice-hockey) would be an excellent blog topic.
hallo wonderful modest blog, I will follow you
Why, thank you.
lol! My shit gets less and less together every year! Although I can honestly say- no amount of shit togetherness can compete with frolicking with hobbits in New Zealand! Can I come on your honeymoon too?? I promise to not monopolize ALL the hobbits!
Hmm … I suppose you could frolic with the Sackville-Bagginses. But I dibs the rest.
Oops I forgot to also say- HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! (Actually that’s probably a bit belated by now- so maybe let’s say HAPPY BIRTHMONTH!!! because you totally deserve a whole month of cake!)
Thank you! Birthmonths need to be a thing. Because cake.
YES EXACTLY!!! It’s taken a few years, but I’ve finally convinced my boyfriend of the whole birthmonth thing. The struggle was so worth it.
Happy birthday!
Thank you!
The first time that jellyfish checks into rehab, you’ll have gotten your victory back. PS – we’re all just pretending to be good at adulting. Even the jellyfish.
Good point. I’ll keep an eye on the gossip magazines and prepare my victory dance.