Yesterday was my 33rd birthday. Took the day off (says something, when I consider not working on Sunday as “taking the day off”) and did a bunch of nothing. I invited a bunch of friends over to The Crow Bar for some good old-fashioned binge drinking. It was supposed to be a joint birthday for me and a co-worker who I found out was born on the exact same day (eerie). He never showed, so it ended up just being me and most of the people I’ve managed to collect over my eight years of living out here.
I don’t think I’ll ever do that again. For the most part, it was just great, being reminded of my friends, and having that many people who’d take time out of their day just for my sake. But it also reminded me that I’ve got a bunch of circles of friends with not a whole lot of overlap. It was weird having so many people in the same place who had nothing in common except me. I guess I really don’t like being the center of attention.
So I ended up not being able to talk to everyone I wanted, or for as long as I wanted. But I kind of think that was expected. And I did get way too drunk, but I think that was expected, too. On the whole it was a great reminder; not that I was getting older, but that I must be doing something right to be able to know such cool people.
And it didn’t even occur to me to do my usual birthday ritual, of plucking gray hairs out of my beard and chest. So that’s a step forward.