24

When I was 0 years old, my dad told my mom that my face looked like it deserved to be a constellation in the sky. He was very excited about me.

When I turned 5 years old, I remember climbing out of my bed late at night and peeking to see my parents decorating the living room with streamers and balloons, in preparation of my first-ever birthday party the next day. My dad kept yelling at my mom for using too much Scotch tape on the streamers, and my mom kept telling him to just calm down. The birthday party turned out great. Even though it was November and my sister’s birthday wasn’t until the middle of December, my parents decided to combine both me and Lynn’s birthday into one big party so that she wouldn’t feel left out. I didn’t mind.

When I turned 6, I asked my dad if I could have a birthday party like I did the year before and he told me no.

When I turned 9, I dressed up as a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle and attacked my uncle.

When I turned 10, I ran out of my room minutes after waking up that morning and said, “Woo hoo! I’m double digits now!”

When I turned 13, I ran out of my room minutes after waking up that morning and said, “Woo hoo! I’m a teenager now!” I then ran back into my room to masturbate.

When I turned 15, my mom smiled at me and handed me the end of a ribbon and had me follow it all around the house into our basement, where I found a BRAND NEW BIKE THAT COST $300! But I was pissed, because I wanted a car.

When I turned 18, a bunch of my buddies in my high school calculus class convinced Mr. Yanisch that as a birthday present to me he should just give us a “free study period”, instead of going through with his original lesson plan. We spent the rest of the 40 minutes in class goofing off and eating Twizzlers and playing speed chess. Minutes before the bell rang, everyone patted me on the back and sang “For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow”.

When I turned 19, I used my “birthday boy” angle to convince about five girls that they should make out with me that night.

When I turned 21, I consumed 21 shots of liquor in 24 hours. That morning, I had tequila with my bowl of cereal and walked into my 9 AM math quiz quite tipsy and rosy-cheeked. After I completed my quiz, my professor kept asking me to go home, but I didn’t understand him because I was too liquored up to decipher his Korean accent so I just sat there the whole time smiling and clapping my hands.

When I turned 22, in my drunken stupor I threw my pet hamster halfway across the room AND IT STILL SURVIVED.

When I turned 23, I decided I was too old to get wasted on my birthday so I stared at my AIM buddy list from 11:45 PM to 12:05 AM, waiting patiently for people to IM me and wish me a happy birthday.

And here I am now — 24 years old today — completely sober, and by extension, completely boring. I could easily change all of that — I’ve been eyeing that bottle of Grey Goose on top of my fridge for the past few minutes — but I think what I’ll do instead tonight is just pop in my Season 5 DVD of The Sopranos, look over some notes for an exam I have on Wednesday, and eat the rest of the brownies I bought yesterday. And that’s it. Happy birthday to me.