Thirty-one today
What a thing to say
Drinking Guinness in the afternoon
Taking shelter in the black cocoon

I thought my life would be different somehow
I thought my life would be better by now
I thought my life would be different somehow
I thought my life would be better by now
But it’s not, and I don’t know where to turn

—Aimee Mann

(Don’t worry, it’s not really that bad! I mean, it is a little depressing but I’m not about to do anything drastic…haha.)

From the another-sign-I’m-getting-old department: I was having a conversation the other day with Kris via instant messaging (IM-ing, as the kids say) when somehow the subject of pro wrestling came up. I recounted channel surfing recently and stumbling on the 15th anniversary show of Monday Night Raw. Until I started chatting with Kris, though, it hadn’t occurred to me that, ‘Damn, that show has been on for half my life!’

Then again, I also read somewhere recently that 30 is the new 20. I realize this is hardly a new notion — just do a Google search for “30 new 20,” if you don’t believe me — but it still made me feel a little better. Like I don’t have to have it all figured out yet, or something like that. And maybe that’s actually a good thing.