I'm never going to be Kurt Cobain

With a matter of hours left in my twenty-seventh year, that teenage delusion expires at midnight. Guess it's time to grow up and hitch my wagon to a different star.

I'm certainly not going to pretend I haven't done anything with my life thus far. It's just the constant clamoring for something bigger that's causing me trouble as this completely unremarkable milestone approaches.

With the disastrous events of my previous birthday in mind, I am warning the universe not to mess with me tomorrow. It's already thrown me a missed bus, as well as a bunch of beef ending up in my stir fry, resulting in my having to turn around and drive all the way back to the grocery store to rectify the situation. At least our dinners ended up being free. This threw off my plans to make my birthday cake tonight (which were a hasty replacement for my original plan of going to Baby Ketten Karaoke tonight), and meant I didn't get any dinner until 8:30. Now, defeated, I am watching Veronica Mars and waiting for the clock to tick down.

I'll be spending tomorrow evening with a few of my favorite people, and Saturday evening with many more of them. Rock star or not, it's a pretty good life. Here is a photo taken at the exact moment my birthday started. I am making a ridiculous face, as usual, so I followed it with a slightly less silly one. Happy stupid birthday to me.