Yeah, you see, if I had made it make sense (mid-thirtIES), it wouldn't have rhymed, and some things are just more important you know.
I woke up this morning and re-read what I wrote on my birthday last year: all the people I share a birthday with, my theory of the perfect age (it's 27, in case you don't remember), stuff like that. Looking back, I don't have so much to add today. The past year has been one of the most turbulent of my life, full of change and upheaval that is really only starting to culminate now. At least I hope that's the case. I can't even say for sure. All I know is that at this time last year, I was in a then-3-1/2 year relationship with a woman I thought there was a good chance I would marry; I was looking forward to finally leaving my job at HBO in a couple months; I had just signed a lease for the fifth year in my apartment, anticipating my girlfriend and I probably moving at the end of this new term, but certainly not with anything definite, and I thought 2005 could even be fun.
Well, like the subway and the summer weather and this city I actually love so much (maybe it's an example of battered wives syndrome or something), 2005 has instead mostly decided to smack me down and say, "You want some more, bitch?!" It's been a rough year, or at least a rough summer, and as someone who never has been such a huge birthday-booster anyway, arriving at 34 doesn't do much for me. In fact, surprisingly, I've discovered that I've been calling myself 34 for the past week: succumbing to the inevitable, I suppose. But right now, I just don't have time to concern myself with having a happy birthday. Instead, I have to keep looking at apartments, and keep searching for a new job, and start to pack-up this apartment in which I've now lived longer than any other place in my entire life, save one apartment my mom and I had from the time I was four until 13.
I'll admit; I'm one of those people who places significance in specific dates. Not so much that the date controls events, but rather the date as a milestone to note and remember them. But these dates don't act alone -- they're always the start or end of a period. My summer started on May 3 when two days after the Tribeca Film Festival ended and nearly a month after celebrating our four year anniversary, my girlfriend and I broke-up. I'm hoping that by the end of this weekend -- after a pretty huge job interview this Friday and hopefully having nailed down an apartment by the end of the day Saturday -- I'll have another date to look back on noting this summer-from-hell has come to an end. That date will not be today, my birthday. Today, in my life, is just like any other. I was basically 34 yesterday, and I will continue to be 34 tomorrow even as I enter my 35th year. And hopefully when 2006 rolls around and I look back onto this post, I'll be able to see that this period of transition not only ended a few days from now, but was a valuable one from which I learned and grew. Today, that seems far away, and I guess a whole year, no matter how quickly it seems to fly by, is a pretty long period of time. Although now, as always, it becomes a smaller fraction of my life than before.
Now I have to hurry up and get to a NY Film Festival press screening at 10 AM. Can I just say, seeing movies at 10 AM is much harder than one might expect, especially when you're doing it every day. At least for me, I'm still tired; not completely awake; and sometimes, it becomes difficult to stay awake (although I do) throughout the film.