On February 19 I turned 25. In my mind this is a stellar age. The last age-related changes (excluding politics) are made this year; I can rent a car (without the outrageous underage fees), my car insurance goes down (or would if I owned a car), and I believe I can run for a house seat (though that is political).
I am not afraid of growing older. I don't dread it. I have very few regrets from my past - and everything is looking good for the future. However, after much contemplation, I have made the decision that this will be my last birthday for approximately five years.
It is not the progression of age I am hesitant to encounter - it is all the Ned Ryersons of the world that make me not want to continue my climb towards 30.
I detest the possibility of this scene:
Ned: "So, how old arya?"
Me: "27"
Ned: [elbow jab + chin chuck] "Almost 30!"
Me: "#@!*"
Grandma: "Ned said he ran into you at Wal-Mart..."
So, in order to avoid hurting my grandmother, I will continue to be 25 until I hit 30 (possibly 31, depending on how bitter I am in 5 years).
Note: This will, in no way, effect the necessity for birthday parties or gifts. I will simply continue to have 25 candles (or another arbitrary number).
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