Bringing In The Awesome Since 1992

"Common sense is the collection of prejudices acquired by age eighteen."
-Albert Einstein

Well, here we are. For those of you who don't know (or forgot), today is my birthday. I'm turning 18.
This has been an interesting experience for me, the sort of person who takes birthdays a little more seriously than other people. I think this has a lot to do with how much I think about how big our universe and time and space and all that really is. To quote The Hitchhiker's Guide to The Galaxy (and really, why not): "Space is big. Really big. You just won't believe how vastly hugely mindbogglingly big it is. I mean you may think it’s a long way down the road to the chemist, but that’s just peanuts to space."
I have always been the sort to think of space and time as different representations of a similar thing, too, so for me, birthdays are very important. They are mankind's way of making little, useless, redundant, insignificant attempts to impose order on a system, to which we are more insignificant and unimportant than the smallest idea of a speck of dust, which literally runs on chaos. I like to think of my birthday as my version of standing on a mountaintop during a thunderstorm in wet copper armor shouting "All gods are bastards" (and that was a horrible murdered Terry Pratchett quote. Damn, I'm on a role today). Usually (at least for the last couple of years) I celebrate my birthday by eating lots of my favorite foods, trying to spend as much time as possible in the company of lots of my favorite people, and trying to do lots of my favorite things (most memorably to date, I believe, I dragged several friends to spend the day in The Field Museum in Chicago. The fact that they both went and are still my friends explains why they are some of my favorite people). For some reason, eighteen is considered the magical number where people are suddenly mature and grown up enough to be treated as mature and grown up (I've spent plenty of time around people from 17 to 23 and I've still not seen enough evidence to convince me. Actually, there are plenty of 30-year-olds who have yet to convince me). That said, it's seen as a turning point. I feel like I should somehow be able to make it something important. Or at least my hidden superpowers will finally show up (I'm pulling for teleportation, but I'll settle for being to fly and shoot lighting out of my fingers if I have to). But what to do, how to do it? So many choices, so many ideas. Oh, and what, do you ask, am I doing for my oh-so-special day? Why I am spending a good 4 hours on a bus. And the rest probably waiting around for something. Granted, I will be waiting and riding on the bus which is taking me, over the next few weeks, to CANCUN (!!! <- this, ladies and gentleman, is the sound of pure awesome), but still. Nothing big, nothing special. No fire works, hell, no friends I've known more than a couple of months.
But I've thought about it, and I think that's ok. I mean, I could have some giant party so big they could hear us two towns over. I could be living on a yacht somewhere in the Carribbean, sipping martinis (I've never had a martini, but I think I'd like to try one). On the other hand, I could be living in a trailer park in Louisiana, working at a truck stop and calling myself 'Betty'. I could be in the hospital. Hell, I could be dead (and if I hadn't learned how to skid the training wheels on my bike so well, I probably would be). So here's the thing: I could be anywhere in the world, doing anything in the world, and it would still just be another day. No matter what I think or do, people live and people die. They burn food and forget things. They wreck cars and miss opportunities. People talk, laugh, live. Animals go about their business. Life lives. The world turns. The sun sets and rises (at least until I finally finish that giant laser-thingy I'm building in a castle in the Alps).
This day only makes as huge a difference to me as I want it too. So while yes, I am spending the day on a bus, I can at least make it a non-grumpy, happy day on a bus. And I think that's good enough for me.

On a different note, here's some dumb stuff I found out on the internet about this day. My tree, apparently, is chestnut (ooookay). My signs are Scorpio and the Year of the Monkey (cool). The 21st of November is on the cusp of pretty much everything (i.e. the 22nd is always a different sign, tree, etc). I share birthdays with Bjork and Voltaire (<-how do they know that?). Popes have both been born and died on this day throughout history. Scarlett Johansson turns 25 tomorrow (mmmmhmmmm). I accidentally got myself a weird birthday present by downloading all 7 Harry Potter books narrated by Jim Dale onto my ipod (for those of you who don't know, I have had a crush on Jim Dale's voice ever since I first heard the books more than, wow, must be ten years ago). When I read them, I can hear him reading them too. I haven't heard Sorcerer's Stone for more than 4 years, so hearing it again has been a real treat. It's weird, some parts have the exact same inflection I remember, and some parts I don't remember at all. This has reaffirmed my desire to read those books out loud to my kids before they ever get near those damn movies (my experience with HP was such a huge part of growing up for me, I dream of being able to simulate it for my offspring, should they exist).
In another weird note, I have finally outgrown the Harry Potter books (SPOILERS AHEAD, YOU SILLY PEOPLE WHO STILL HAVEN'T FINISHED BOOK 7). I am now older than the three for all 7 books. I still remember secretly staying up on my 11th birthday, waiting, just in case. How odd, to have outgrown something which creates such a framework, a time-line for so much of my childhood. Oh wait, hang on a second. Doesn't the epilogue take place, like, 19 years later? So I would have to be, what, 36 or something. Whoo, I guess I don't have grow up yet after all! False alarm.
Have a fantastic year, everybody.

"Live as if you were to die tomorrow, learn as if you were to live forever."
-Mahatma Gandhi