The upcoming 30th birthday. Not excited about it. There's a desperation about me as I evaluate where I am that I suppose isn't entirely unlike a midlife crisis. Except this isn't that, because it's way too early for this to be a midlife crisis. Also, how could I have a midlife crisis when I can't even come close to affording the sports car?
When I worked at Camp Rockfish, my favorite co-worker (other than Laul Peeland) was a girl who would hang onto my every word and laugh at my every joke. Sometimes, she'd even look at me and say "you're going to be famous."
Not too incredibly long ago, I ran into one of the counselors at my high school. She asked me what I'd been up to. After telling her, she seemed profoundly disappointed and threw in a quick "I thought you'd be famous by now."
My mom is an avid How RDU Doin'? reader, and recently sent me an email telling me how witty I am and how I've clearly missed a golden opportunity if I can't find a way to get someone from the Daily Show to take a look at it.
I tell you all of this, in the sort of "woe is me" style post that I kind of hoped never to feel compelled towards ever again, to say one thing. For my 30th birthday, I'd like to be as talented as people think I am. And I'd like the stones to do something with that talent.