Requisite I-feel-old post

It's almost my birthday. In my native time zone, it's been my birthday for 2 hours, 15 minutes. Whoopee. It's not a milestone. Nobody celebrates #27. Nobody writes songs like "sweet little 27" or "27 candles." There aren't any keggers or surprise parties or silly puns like "lordy lord look who's...uh...27."

But I can't help feeling like I was just so goddamn much cooler when I was looking 17 in the face. Okay, okay, I can help it, I just feel like wallowing and what are blogs if not venues for wallowing.

Around my 17th birthday, I was fighting a book ban in my county public school libraries, I had just gotten accepted to Hopkins, I was planning my graduation speech, I looked good in a prom dress and kept in touch with all my friends. To be fair, I was also severely depressed and was never allowed out of the house...

Yeah, nevermind, I'm going to hang up this whole woe-is-me thing right now. Nothing is wrong with my life at all, I'm just feeling rather stagnant and there's only one way to fix that: FUCKING DO SOMETHING BESIDES MAKE EXCUSES.

Okay. Sorry about that. You have no idea what I'm talking about, so here is a picture of a bunny with a pancake on its head.