Kid's Table

Strange to me how blogging requires a certain glimmer of illusiveness. You never know who's reading... maybe that's part of the baby (meaning small) drama of it all. Nevertheless, I'll write another.

I don't think I've ever written from home. But it's Sunday night, I have a beverage (naturally, as it's part of my blogging ritual) and it's quiet. It's been a quiet weekend.

Thanksgiving was strange. There's no other possible adjective that I can conjure that sounds as "right" as 'strange.'

I'm 24. I still feel like I should be sitting at the kid's table. I'm not living with my parents this year, so I drove to and from their house Thursday. I didn't wake up and eat cinnamon rolls or watch the abhorrently boring parade. I didn't fall asleep on the couch and my mom didn't wake me up and tell me to go to bed.

I helped Rachel Barnard, the bestie, cook from her apartment. I made green been casserole, which is now in my refrigerator and smells like death, and Rachel put together some jello-frozen thing which I really can't live without. It was the first year we've made food together. First year she had a husband in the other room.

Her sister was there. Her sister's boyfriend was there. And by the end of the night, it was firmly decided in my mind that I have never felt so fifth wheel in my entire life.

It was one of the first Thanksgivings where I felt very, very alone.

Probably sounds like I'm whining. I'm not. Those were simply my recollections of the day and further, slap-in-the-face proof of the realities of age, young as they may be.

I'll probably still want to sit at the kid's table when I'm 45.

24

I've spent a week in the land of "24." And sadly, Keifer Sutherland hasn't been here to join me.

Regardless, it's been a touch less wretched then I first thought it was going to be.

To start, my birthday coincided with my one year anniversary of work. Last year, I asked Jesus to give me a job for my birthday. And he sure did. What a year it's been.

Maybe that's the reasons we, be we I mean I, hate milestones so much. Maybe I don't like what the last year represents. Maybe I don't like the memories that accompanied 23. Granted, 23 was much less horrible than the preceding years, but the bitter parts were like drinking peroxide.

I think I'm a born pessimist, so it's a little difficult for me to see the happy factors of the last year, although those were prevalent as well.

But back to birthday weekend... last weekend. Pretty much celebrated the entire time. I took most of Friday off- it was Friday the 13th (my golden birthday was also Friday the 13th. weird), bought a pair of black jeans and had dinner with my family. It was quiet and simple and oddly enjoyable. I didn't feel alone.

Then Saturday, I slept crazy late, watched TV and then went out in a furious snow storm with friends for dinner and drinks. And I had plenty to drink. Ahem. Plenty plenty plenty. I didn't quite make it to church the next day. Uugh. Hangovers might be the worst feeling on the planet. No thank you. I don't plan to do that...oh... EVER AGAIN. I actually woke up Sunday morning and wondered why the top of my forehead, right by my hairline, hurt so badly. My roommate said I'd hit my head on the toilet while I was puking. Honestly, I think that's pretty funny.

I could really go for an Italian Cream Soda right now. That sounds divine. Hmmm...

I have (confession) bought coffee every day this week. I deserve a fat slap in the face for that one. I need to buy Christmas gifts for my family and my close friends. God only knows how that's gonna happen considering my present financial situation. Oh well.

My dad's still healing from the collarbone/ rib/ punctured lung incident. The whole thing just sucks.

I didn't think 24 would look like this. I didn't think 24 would be Colorado Springs, or living in the same town as my parents or passing by my high school every day. I didn't think my dad would be working part time because he got in such a severe accident. Didn't think I'd be so close to my sisters- not that I'm complaining. I thought 24 would be marriage, 2 compact cars, a cat, an apartment and a big city. I thought a lot of things about 24.

I'll be 24 in 2 days.

That. is. insane.

And I'm not sure I like it.