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I've been using the Huckabees soundtrack to wake myself up in the morning for, like, a month and a half now. To the point where I can time my morning routine by what song is on. I no longer need the clock.
And I still love it. Every other CD I've used, I eventually become conditioned to cringe at the opening chords, but I still love every note of this CD.
Is February twenty-second here yet? I need the DVD now.
Oh. Speaking of dates to look forward to, my birthday is next - no, wait, yikes, my birthday is this Sunday. I've spent the last couple of weeks remembering that I have a birthday soon and being surprised. I am turning twenty-two *ohmygod I'm turning twenty-two*, and have outgrown the counting-the-days excitement, but only just. So I still feel as though it should be important enough to be counting the days, hence the surprise each time I realize how much closer it is and I'm barely noticing.
I have just now in the process of typing this entry realized that birthday means turning older, and twenty-two is older than I personally feel ready to be. Those of you who are older than me can STOP LAUGHING NOW, because I don't mean it like that. It's the same kind of weirdness I felt when I turned seventeen, and then twenty. Like, "Wait, when did this happen? Don't I get a vote?" It's not as bad as my twentieth birthday, though. I was still in high school then, so I pretty much decided that twenty was entirely too old and I would not be turning it until I was good and ready, thsankyouverymuch. This is an approach I strongly advise, so long as you are willing to turn the proper age next year and not just pretend you are a year younger.
Anyway. Twenty-two. Weird. If you need me, I'll be in the corner with my chicory coffee, reminding myself that time is an arbitrary construct and age a meaningless conceit at best. Oh, and I promise not to become that woman who bitches about getting older every year. I'm not bitchy or annoyed. Just surprised.
And I still love it. Every other CD I've used, I eventually become conditioned to cringe at the opening chords, but I still love every note of this CD.
Is February twenty-second here yet? I need the DVD now.
Oh. Speaking of dates to look forward to, my birthday is next - no, wait, yikes, my birthday is this Sunday. I've spent the last couple of weeks remembering that I have a birthday soon and being surprised. I am turning twenty-two *ohmygod I'm turning twenty-two*, and have outgrown the counting-the-days excitement, but only just. So I still feel as though it should be important enough to be counting the days, hence the surprise each time I realize how much closer it is and I'm barely noticing.
I have just now in the process of typing this entry realized that birthday means turning older, and twenty-two is older than I personally feel ready to be. Those of you who are older than me can STOP LAUGHING NOW, because I don't mean it like that. It's the same kind of weirdness I felt when I turned seventeen, and then twenty. Like, "Wait, when did this happen? Don't I get a vote?" It's not as bad as my twentieth birthday, though. I was still in high school then, so I pretty much decided that twenty was entirely too old and I would not be turning it until I was good and ready, thsankyouverymuch. This is an approach I strongly advise, so long as you are willing to turn the proper age next year and not just pretend you are a year younger.
Anyway. Twenty-two. Weird. If you need me, I'll be in the corner with my chicory coffee, reminding myself that time is an arbitrary construct and age a meaningless conceit at best. Oh, and I promise not to become that woman who bitches about getting older every year. I'm not bitchy or annoyed. Just surprised.
