Tuesday, January 31, 2006

two dimes and a nickel.

25 – you are finally here!

To my great relief when I awoke this morning, I had control of all bodily functions, my prostate didn’t seem abnormally enlarged and I didn’t have to mash up my food to eat it.

When I realized this, it kinda pissed me off. I mean, where was the instant hair loss and why didn’t I have a sudden affinity for wearing my pants pulled up beneath my nipples? Ultimately, it just made me think: What in the hell is the big damn deal about turning 25 if nothing’s gonna happen?! After I fumed for a bit, (and to ease your worries, I did check my goods – Mr. Happy is doing well), I calmed myself down and thought about how I’ve been able to make it this far.

Hell, I’m 25 and I’ve never been shot, stabbed or beaten down until I was paralyzed [then again, I’m not 50 Cent, either]. I’ve gotten through quite a few close calls (police don’t always like people my skin tone but thankfully, I’ve never been arrested for Driving while Black, sorry Zero), I’ve side-swiped numerous would-be “female” mishaps (there’s still only one lucky lady out there who’s yet to have the honor of sowing my seed in her secret garden) and random career setbacks that could’ve defeated me (ever wonder why I have so much time to do this blog everyday?).

Honestly, at 25, all things considered I think I’m doing pretty well. Everything isn’t exactly the way I planned it out, but I think I’m still handling it well. I can now even sit back and reflect on some of things that have transformed me into the person I am. I've accepted the fact that I am, by no means, a millionaire (although I think sometimes my family believes I am because I have an office with a door).
I haven’t quite honed all of my work ethics the way I should; my clock is a half hour fast for a reason (but I'm still usually late getting were I need to be). But hell, I’m a work in progress. My life continues on these patterns of finding myself in impossible places at inappropriate times, forgetting what I had intended to do (I think I’m developing quarter-life Alzheimer’s) until I figure out how to do me in this big, bad world.

Birthdays, I tell you, they really make you think. Talking to Britt this morning made me do some true contemplating about life. I mean, what does this age really mean? What are the new privileges? At 16, I got to drive, at 18, I was able to vote and at 21, I got to (legally) drink. So, I’m 25, now what? Am I closer to knowing the true meaning of life? Should I now know what women really want? Am I too old to watch videos on MTV or cartoons on Saturday mornings? Must I pay attention to politics? Should I be clipping coupons for Super Savings? Do I need to start soliciting applications from wifey-material candidates?

Then it hit me… having a birthday isn’t just about getting older. It’s about appreciating making it to another day, taking another breath before you get your early-morning road rage from the stupid driver in the powder-blue Civic who cut you off while mindlessly rambling on her cell phone (sorry, bad start to the morning). It’s about the cherishing the small victories (like finding money in your laundry and getting the extra bag of chips that somebody else got stuck in the vending machine) and looking forward to gaining another year’s worth of knowledge.

[Cue End of the Road by Boyz II Men – y’all had to know it was comin’!]

Thank you for listening – come back tomorrow when I’ll actually have something of substance to say…

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