And I'll Cry If I Want To It was my birthday yesterday.

26. What an uneventful day. 26 sounds "old". I mean, I don't feel old. Also, 26 is fairly young. But, I was thinking about what I thought "old" was when I was eleven. When I was eleven 26 was officially an old age.

At 26 you have passed some invisible threshold. See, at eleven you are looking forward to most of your birthdays. At 26 you can look forward to a few milestones (30, 40, 50, whatever-birthday-gets-you-senior-discounts). But, for the most part, you can only look back at the major birthdays. Twenty five is the last time you get something cool. It brings cheaper insurance rates and the ability to rent a vehicle in every state. After that you don't get anything until the senior discounts. But how much can you look forward to senior discounts when you consider how wrinkly you'll be and that you are now shrinking and growing weaker.

Anyway, 26 arrived with a thunderous silence and will probably be remembered for how forgettable it was. My mother, on the other hand, said she distinctly remembers 26 as being one of her favorite all-time ages. You still have your youthful vigor yet you have shedded that "18 year old immaturity". I've got 364 days left to decide how right she is.  ¶ 12:35 PM