Twenty-four.

Yesterday was my 24th birthday. As far as I'm concerned, I now have six more years on this planet before I take my own life. It got me thinking, though, about those moments in life that meant the most to me so far. My life has been composed of a lot of ugliness and stress, but the last couple of years have honestly been the best years of my entire life, which says a lot. I feel like I've grown and experienced more since August 2008 than I have in the entire time before that.

What are the best things I've done so far? My greatest hits?

- Dropping out of high school.
- Opening up for Mindless Self Indulgence to a sold-out crowd with my now defunct band.
- Deciding to give pills for my depression a chance.
- Going vegan.
- Growing a beard.
- Hitchhiking for the first time (to Syracuse).
- Having sex with Tara Rule.
- Meeting and getting as close as I have with Kara Comegys.
- Hitchhiking around and across the country over the last two years.
- Hopping my first train.
- Publishing my first zine and every zine since it.
- Booking some of my favorite bands all by myself (Deerhoof, Andrew Jackson Jihad, Ghost Mice, Mixtapes, The Emotron, Bubblegum Octopus, Prayers For Atheists).
- Finally visiting Portland.
- Wearing a "Kill Cops" shirt to court.
- Meeting Tia McClelland.
- Ending my relationship with my brothers and parents.

My birthday was just another day, though. Part of me was indifferent to it; part of me was a tad upset at how old I am and how difficult certain things that used to come easy to me in my youth have become; part of me felt pathetic that I wasn't doing anything special on the anniversary of my first breath. The day before, Kara came over and woke me up with nice back-rubs by her magic hands and some serious cuddling. The dream she interrupted was one of Burgundy so vivid that I actually woke up with an aching heart. She brought me a homemade vegan French toast flavored cake. When she asked me what kind of cake I wanted, I immediately said, "French toast flavored!" I honestly didn't think she'd do it, but she did, because she can apparently do anything. She also got me a "Free Pizza For Life!" Ghost Mice t-shirt and made me an adorable card with a bear holding a beehive on it, a corny pun on the inside script. The cake was the best cake I'd ever eaten in my entire life, no exaggeration.



I spent the rest of the day sitting online in Tia's room. The electricity in my room for the most part is now gone. The other day, where my power strip plugged into the extension cord started making loud crackling sounds and flickering in and out of power. It was pretty scary. Eventually, nothing would work. Because I have no working outlets in my room, I had only that power strip and the extension cord that went out through my door to an outlet outside to power my TV and stuff. It's one thing after another in this fucking house, though. Nothing new. Kara was at Planned Parenthood for over two hours. We went downtown to the Moon and River Cafe together and ate California sandwiches while playing Uno and Sorry, local musicians playing pleasant banjo-driven tunes in the background. It was a nice night, but I'm always desiring more out of my own consciousness that my city can provide. Kara and I had a very long, passionate night together. I slept that night with dreams of being shot. A bullet passed through my shoulder and left waist and grazed my left arm.

The actual day of my birthday came and went like no big deal. Kara had to leave to bake and I spent most of my time sitting online and responding to anonymous political questions on Tumblr. I went out for pizza at Little Anthony's with Tia. I felt pathetic not having a single other friend to join us. The bus ride was terrible. The angry black men driver tried to tell me I didn't ask for an all-day pass, even though I did. We ended up having to wait over a half hour for the 1 to show up and bring us the five minutes away to the pizza place. We watched two movies that night and that was it. I was twenty-four and celebrated my birthday by buying myself a pizza. Perhaps I'm asking too much or childishly forgetting the irrelevance in my own aging, but I feel like I should have done something special: had a party with tons of friends and a root beer keg, staying up late and getting a blowjob from two girls at once before falling asleep. Or something. But that's not what life is like as you get older, I guess. A lot of people wished my a happy birthday online, of course, and some of them made me laugh, but the Internet attention I get is not real and therefore not even close to important. A really beautiful girl who admires me from Brooklyn e-mailed me a wonderful picture of her beautiful body. That was nice. I had a dream about being shot again.