Roadrunner Twice

Depends how you like 'em, but I think this birthday went just grand. For quite a while now, I've considered birthdays more a solitary time for reflection and planning than a social occasion. They're kind of like a second, less-noisy New Year, a chance to re-center myself and assess. And I think I like what I found, this time around. I have some idea of what it'll take to grow, and I feel a tiny bit less lost than I have most years, and that's a bigger win than it sounds, honest!

Figuring out where you are and where you're going feels like work, and specifically, it feels like a project—and what do we do with projects? We blab about them on Dreamwidth! I am having to forcibly remind myself that really, this is all just incredibly dull self-absorbed quarter-life crisis navel-gazing, and I should probably not inflict it on the people I'm fond of.

—Of course, I'll exercise that restraint when talking about feelings, but you know I'm gonna follow this post up with a bogus thousand-word-and-twenty-photo epic about adventures in bike maintenance. Well, hey: gotta have some standard of what's entertaining, even if it's obvious bullshit. Anyway, 2010 is out of its probationary period, I'm 28, and I'm-a drag my ass to bed now 'cause I've been running around like an acephalic chicken all day. Peace!

I was just reminded that some of you might not be reading Dicebox yet. Do you like nontraditional SF, rock-solid characterization, dry wit, and really pretty colors? Get on that.