Monday, July 4, 2011

Reelin' in the years

One of the many delights of being a primate is navigating and managing one's social contacts.  This past week I had plenty of practice at that as I worked all week and:
  • had lunch with my father on Tuesday (more on that in another post)
  • had dinner with friends Jill and Janna on Tuesday
  • helped my friend Emily on her family farm all day Wednesday 
  • hung out with Stefan on Thursday 
  • said goodbye to all my coworkers on my last day at the library on Friday
  • spent the day in Oconto Falls with friends Bill, Mike, Rene, and Jen on Saturday
  • hit the town and the local carnival with Jen on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday
  • visited my mother on Sunday 
Whew!  That's why I haven't been blogging.  But I knew that with a picture-heavy post, you'd forgive me.  I mean, just look at this lil' kitty from Emily's farm:

And these piggies (click on any picture to enlarge):

And these cow butts:

And after hearing one of her family's chickens crow, I said, "Hey Emily, is your rooster's name Chanticleer?"

"No," she said.  "His name is Hey-Get-Off-The-Porch, or What-Are-You-Doing-Here?"

And there was a palomino pony.  My personal fave:

When Jen crashed at my place this weekend, she set up her tent in my house and slept in it.  You know, so the centipedes, bats, and squirrels that have overrun my apartment wouldn't snack on her:

Here are the people from my old Freethinkers group that I went picnicking and kayaking with on Saturday.  I swear we did NOT try to make this look like a posed family portrait:

On our way home, we stopped for ice cream at a place called "Meatski's" and discovered that all five of us happen to be lactose intolerant.  As we were trading Lactaid pills like they were baseball cards, Bill so eloquently stated, "What the fuck?"

"So five lactose-intolerant atheists walk into an ice cream shop..."

And with the winning combo of Blue Moon and Superman ice creams, at long last my bluish-green teeth matched my eyes:

Oh, and today is my birthday. 

I'm 29. 

No, seriously.  I'm not lying.  I was 28 last year and will be 30 next year.  I don't know what insecurities possess some people to be self-conscious or embarrassed about their age, but I'm not one of those people.  In fact, next year I might dance a little jig and shout "I'm 30!" from the damned rooftops.  Like Jen and I were saying, our awesomeness only increased during our twenties, and we bet that by the time we're 40 or 50 or 80, we'll be even more fucking badass.  We can't wait to be even smarter and wiser and more accomplished (and probably richer) than we are now.  Although I guess for some people wisdom doesn't come with age.  Sometimes age just shows up all by itself.

But for me, bring on the years!