Another Year Older, Another Year Number

So I've survived this hellacious, pothole-ridden ride I call my life into the dawn of its 29th year. and, what have I learned? Let's recap, shall we?

- It's never a good idea when you're four years old to be too smart for your age. If this happens, you may see some graffitti on a sign, identify it, and shout the word "cunt" in the presence of your parents.

- It's never a good idea when you're five years old to taunt someone older, bigger and stronger than you, then run away. If this happens, you may realize that when this person catches you, you stand the chance of getting hauled down and having your head split open on the pavement.

- It's never a good idea when you're eight years old to throw a hissy fit that culminates in you shouting at your mother to "make me a fucking sandwich!" If this happens, you may very well get a sandwich, but you'll also get more guilt than you can handle.

- It's never a good idea when you're ten years old to willingly become a passenger on a snowmobile while your father (who you know has been drinking) is driving it. If this happens, it's quite possible that you could hit a rock buried by snow, lose your footing, and end up with your ankle so severely broken that your foot literally hangs perilously close to the point of amputation, will never fully heal, and leave you with a nasty scar where the jagged bone poked out.

- It's never a good idea when you're thirteen years old to go on a week-long road trip taking only one album to listen to. If this happens, you may never bring yourself to forgive Roxette for the horrible flashbacks they've caused you.

- It's never a good idea when you're sixteen years old to chug three glasses of vodka and orange juice as your first experience with alcohol. If this happens, you may make out with someone you never intended on taking to the prom, let alone having said date be tripped out on seven hits of acid on what should have been one of the most defining nights of a young man's life.

- It's never a good idea when you're eighteen years old to chug three glasses of vodka and peach juice as a celebration of your first week in college. If this happens, you may have sex with someone you never intended on being your first lay, let alone having said first lay get wasted on Hermits wine some days later, fall down and cut her asscheek on a cassette tape case, leaving you and your buddy in the examination room of the local hospital, forced to choose which one gets to hold the wound shut while the other holds the bedpan for her to puke into.

- It's never a good idea when you're eighteen years old to treat a woman's heart as a plaything. If this happens, you might get what you want in the short term, but years later you find yourself wishing you could talk to the ones you've hurt, just to know that they're okay.

- It's never a good idea when you're eighteen years old to commit to a long term relationship that you're uneasy about from the start. If this happens, before you know it, you've invested too much time and trust to just get away from it, forcing yourself to years of unnecessary risk and stress.

- It's never a good idea when you're twenty-one years old to bring a child into the world, knowing full well that what is supposed to bring two people closer together will inevitably tear them apart. If this happens, your life changes forever, as you must struggle to live with the fact that this tiny person you would give your very life for... well, you just did.

- It's never a good idea when you're twenty-four years old to father a second child in the hopes that it will serve as some sort of last ditch effort in salvaging a family unit. If this happens, prepare yourself for any number of adverse reactions, not the least of which being the revelation that the woman you invested so much love and time into once slept with your best friend. Soon enough, she will find someone else, pick up stakes, and take your children far away, where you will hardly ever see them again. This, my friends, will lead to a long, hard look into the mirror. You will weigh the pros and cons of suicide very seriously. Luckily, your mortal soul will be spared by listening to Pearl Jam's "Indifference".

- It's ALWAYS a good idea when you're twenty-six years old to exhibit class and professionalism in the face of a forced exit from the business you schooled for two years to command. If this happens, not only will you be able to politely thank all those who supported you, play "Indifference" for all the land to hear as your last act and walk out with head held high despite the uncontrollable tears, you will also be flipping the ultimate bird to those who betrayed you, leaving them with the sudden realization that they have, indeed, let one of the true professionals fall through the cracks. This will be your legacy and, though you will never work for those people again, you will be remembered as a class act to the bitter end.

- It's never a good idea when you're twenty-seven years old to take a job just for money. If this happens, you could find yourself in a situation where you sacrifice your happiness for the sake of a few extra dollars. Eventually, you will quit this job, and slip into a deep depression. Thoughts of suicide will again surface, only by now you've mastered the "Indifference" technique, so you'll be fine. Regardless, you will wish you hadn't left the job you loved for a quick buck.

So, I guess that brings us to now. I'm sure there are many more important lessons to learn, though I've no clue as to what they will be, or when they will be taught. All I can say as the newest member of the 28-year old club is... live for yourself. I've made so many mistakes thus far, and the vast majority have been a direct result of trying foolheartedly to please those around me. I shall vow, here and now, to better myself as an individual, in the hopes of evoking a positive effect in others. I am breaking in my current state; I have traded my rock shirts and jeans for business casual, and it sickens me. I am not a number, destined to mull through life in a cubicle. I can, and WILL inflict change. It will be a slow process, but I can do this. I will find myself again, if I have to search every inch of this country. I was once a content, easy-going man. I could once talk and laugh with my fiancee for hours at a time. Now, I am uptight, drained, and slipping into depression yet again. I see my children, on average, four times a year. I see my fiancee, on average, two hours a day. This is unacceptable. I want my life back, and I will sacrifice anything short of my life itself to reclaim it.

I will smile again soon. Only this time, it won't be for show.