So I’m 23…

I turned 23 last Wednesday. That’s just about the most boring sentence I’ve ever written. As I had mentioned in one of my previous posts, my next exciting birthday is going to be 25 because I can rent a car without paying an extra fee. It’s funny how subjective the word “exciting” is. Funny or depressing. Either way, I’m looking forward to that.

Ostensibly, my birthday is still relevant given the amount of heartfelt ‘happy birthdays’ I am still receiving via my Facebook wall and my actual face. People have suddenly become so interested in my social life just because it’s the 23rd anniversary of me getting shoved out of my mother’s hoo-hah. However genuine their intrigue with me may seem, it is fleeting. Everyone seems to lose interest at about the same time:

Person: Hey! Oh my God happy birthday!

Me: Thanks <insert name>.

Person: So what did you do for birthday? Are you like still hungover?!

Me: I got dinner with my dad, step-mom and grandma. It was really nice.

Person: Oh. That’s nice.

Me: Yeah, it was really nice.

Person: That’s nice.

<Fin>

That’s generally how all of those conversations go. My last four birthdays fell during Spring Break (back when “Spring Break” existed) so those were a little less tame than this year, but I was extremely happy with how my birthday went this year (like you care). I got lunch, went to one of my favorite museums and then had dinner with my family. I had work the next morning so grandma and I had to take it easy with the white wine spritzers.

As for gifts, my two roommates (bare with me) got me a cleaning lady. I think this may have been the moment they were waiting for to hire a cleaning lady without insulting me as the head of the maintenance staff in our apartment. It perhaps also rid them of some guilt that they don’t really do much of the cleaning anyway, so this just made everything easier. One of my roommates also got a pair of Knicks tickets that he’s giving me. Yes I am taking him to the game with me. Overall, I’d say my birthday was nice, but was pretty much like any other day.

One Day I Hope to be Alicia Keys’ Muse

On my walk to my internship this morning, one of my headphone speakers stopped working (not getting that fixed) so I could only hear half of Elanor Rigby. I hit next and Alicia Keys’ song, “Girl on Fire” came on my Spotify, and all I could think was, “In my biopic, there needs to be a montage where I start getting all my shit together, and this song needs to be playing during it.” My vision was curtailed when I accidentally hit the next button and a Ke$ha song came on. I hope none of her songs are used in my biopic, especially her latest gem entitled, “Die Young.” Whenever one of her songs came on at a party, my friend would instantly drop to the floor and begin to convulse to the beat while sort of spitting our her “lyrics.” That’s all I really think when I hear Ke$ha. I doubt her intentions are to make her audiences think. I doubt she thinks.

Last night, I “made” my roommates watch the American Idol auditions with me. There was this one kid from Cuba at the end who had a debilitating stutter when he spoke, but when he sang, it was like the voice of an angel, a Cuban angel. At the same time, my roommates and I said, “He’s totally faking it!” At another moment one roommate alone said, “I have this magnetic attraction to Nicki Minaj right now.” I think that’s the first time anyone has said that. The back-stories that come attached to the contestants on any show work on me. I particularly liked last night’s contestant who hadn’t sang in front of anyone before – not even his parents. Nicki Minaj was struck with a profound empathy by his story. She said that it took her just as long to perform for her mom. I mean, what was going to happen? A five year old wearing a blond wig and a leopard print onesie, shouting, “Lemme put this pussy on your sideburn!” Come on.

What do you know, Minaj and Ke$ha are the only words Microsoft considers as errors. Also, can Coke sponsor me now that I plugged American Idol?

A Quick Peek Into 2013

Wow the New Year! Big things are happening. My apartment smells like New Years Day – stale sex and Fritos. In my last post, I talked about how life would feel more balanced once my adult life retained certain parts of my college life. Well, considered me balanced. I’m sitting on my living room* on my carpet** next to our Christmas tree typing this blog post while listening in on the profound conversational stylings of my 5 guy friends (two of whom are my roommates, one of whom is my ex-boyfriend):

Gabe: We shouldn’t be shit heads today

Collective groan

Nathan: I don’t know whose jacket this is but I’m snuggling with it

Gabe: Don’t cum on it, Nathan

Ezra: Who wants to see Les Mis?

Tyler: We should go bowling. We should go skeet shooting.

Gabe: I’m making us dinner reservations.

Tyler: We should play ping-pong…

And so on and so forth. This is my life.

I woke up this morning with my best friend in my bed, wearing the same dress she was wearing last night. When I opened my eyes she asked, “Why is this part of the bed wet?” I didn’t respond and went back to sleep. Three hours later, I wake up again, walk into my living room to find the previously mentioned guys – one on the recliner, one on the couch and one sleeping upright.

One of my roommates kept some of us awake with some ungodly sex noises last night/this morning. “It was like National Geographic but I couldn’t change the channel,” recalled Ezra. I decided that he owed all seven of us a nice bagel shmorgishborg for breakfast.

Currently, the boys and myself are each holding a piece of paper with a number on it. The number represents our spot in line for the shower. My roommate and his lady friend just finished their shower. As we all turned to look at them take the walk back to his bedroom*** Gabe said, “Only judgments await you out here!”

I don’t think this group is going anywhere today.

2013 is feeling a lot like college. The New Year has thus far kicked off with a promising start.

* You have to form a single file line if more than one person plans on walking through it

**Our carpet is actually those foam puzzle pieces that day cares use because they’re easy to clean/remove when a two year old pees on it. We have it for the same reason.

*** We converted our actual living room into a bedroom, so the only things separating our makeshift living room from his bedroom, are a bookshelf and a curtain. Both have proven to be ineffective as noise barriers.