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If you’re a longtime reader of my blog then you know that I’m not typically a big fan of my birthday. I’ve had this blog for my last four birthdays and have written about my disdain for the day each time (read: 20, 21, 22, 23). There have been two major reasons. First, I would rather be celebrated for something I do than for who I am. Second, the quality of relationship I experience on my birthday is generally very poor.
Recently, however, my views have begun to change.
Leading Off - I feel like this week has been going on for at least a month. I never thought Friday would come, and I certainly never thought quitting time would be upon me. Here are a few highlights from the week that was.
FSU vs Troy - Okay, so not exactly a highlight, but worth mentioning. FSU should have lost. Maybe the entire coaching staff would have been fired, including Bobby. That’s right, I don’t like Bobby Bowden. You know what I say? “What have you done for me lately?” He’s great for recruiting, I’ll grant you that. But he’s useless on the sidelines, and his son is even more useless as the offensive coordinator. But anyway, Troy played a great game and FSU played a terrible one. I really like Troy’s QB. He was able to throw on the run, something all of our most recent QBs have tried to do with limited success.
Last year at this time I was feeling very old. I was officially leaving my teenage years and was beginning my third decade of life. Now here I sit at 21 years old and I don’t feel nearly as old as I did a year ago. I can’t quite explain it. On top of that, everyone told me that this was supposed to be one of those landmark or milestone birthdays. Whatever. So I can drink. I’ve had alcohol before today. So I’m able to buy alcohol. I’ve legally bought it before, just not here in the U.S. There just isn’t any drama to this day. Just another birthday, just like every other birthday is just another birthday.
So yes, I was thrown into Westcott last night. Actually it was this morning. I didn’t go without a fight though. I got my foot caught in Kyle’s shirt pocket and ripped his shirt off his body. We’re still finding the buttons in our room.
I’m telling you, I could have taken them if Rob wasn’t there. He’s a BEAST. Kyle, Andy, and Bob I could have beaten up. Rob’s got too much upper body strength. He just rapped his arms around my waist and I’m done.
I’m 20 years old.
I’ve been trying to wrap my mind around that thought. I’ve been on this planet for 20 years. Two decades. One-fifth of a century. One-third of my dad’s lifetime. I’m not sure I can really grasp the passage of time.
