I'm 24 now.

But not depressed. People let birthdays depress them. Even people my age. Like...you're 25. So what? Oh, it's close to thirty? Your point being??? Ever since I was little I've had plans for my life. Big, big plans. And while I don't like the whole concept of one year closer to death, or wondering where all the time is flying, or worrying that I am not losing my ability to hear high-pitched noises such as the TV when it is on VCR/AUX, I think what's more important to concentrate on is that I'm moving right along. I couldn't be living on my own in LA assisting the head of development for a production company and writing a script that's been optioned if I were 18.

Plus. I still act like a kid anyway.

Saturday was my Birthday Bar Crawl. We started Downtown and ended up enjoying ourselves so much we skipped half of our route to stay at a bar for longer.

It started on a train like this...
















and ended in a cab like this.
















Despite the fact that I look like I'm having no fun whatsoever in either of these photos, I had a blast. Here's proof:

These people loved me. Don't know who they are.

















A formal shot:
















Whatever, they'll all be on Facebook soon enough. But...see how much fun I had?!?! It was pretty much the 3rd time I've gone out and had fun on a weekend (see: drank lots of alcohol) since early February, due to all of the training. It was my birthday weekend so I just said "fuck it" to getting up for training...and running in general. That's right. I didn't do the 8 mile taper. Fuck it.