Other people's funny...

Reading someone else's very funny blog has inspired me to get a little crazier with my blog. And by crazier I mean write about something other then hobos. So, I decided I would write about turning 25.

My birthday is on Saturday and I know, I am not that old, but I can't help but feel like I am. 25, is an age I just never saw myself at and I'm not quite sure why. The funny thing is I've been able to do some pretty amazing things in my short 25 years. I've gotten to travel, move away from where I grew up, have a career in what I thought would be my "dream job." I am successful I suppose, I have a great family, an alright love life (most of the time), and yet I feel like I am missing something. I'm sure what it is yet.

I know it's not unique to be unable to figure out what you want to do at age 25. Older people are always telling you that they didn't "find" themselves until they were at least __ (insert completely arbitrary age that is older than you, so that they can feel better about being older). Well I can safely say I "know" myself and I am confident in who I am, but it's more like something missing on the exterior. Maybe it's the lack of functional relationship or the lack of passion I have for what I am doing. I am trying to find that passion by going back to school for something I really love...which is helping people (I don't care how dumb that sounds).

Getting older is strange. We focus on these ages that we have passed and honestly I wouldn't want to go back in time for any of the great things (or shit things) I have lived through. I am scared, but also looking forward to growing older. I want to experience family life, own a house and be wiser. I was told by my friend at work that I have a good outlook on life. I think she can only say that because she doesn't know me all that well. I know I am cynical, but it is possible to be a closeted optimist?

If so, I think that I am. I love laughing at how seriously people take things. If everyone would just settle down a little bit maybe we could all chillax and look at the big picture. I know that I will look back on my time in New York is one of growth and good times. I am incredibly lucky to have been given so much in life. Thank you to everyone that has contributed (for good and for bad).

My mom doesn't read my blog (she does however read random other people's blogs), but if she did she would be able to read about how much I appreciate her and what she has taught me. When she dropped me off for college she told me that she wanted me to do something with my life as she didn't feel she had (I'm not sure if she still feels this way). Well, I want her to know that I admire how she has lived her life and she is the most unselfish woman I know and because of that I have learned and been given so much.

I know this a departure from my typical blogs, but getting older makes me more retrospective and deep (as you can see). Thanks for reading. Love and rockets.

Angry Hobos

Most of the time I try not to interact with hobos that I think may be hostile. There are quite a few of them, so avoiding them is a skill all onto itself. The other day I was hanging out in a Dunkin Donuts, because that's what I do, when I saw this lady with a cart. She didn't look homeless outright because she was dressed somewhat normally, but her hair was pretty Britney Spears like and she was asking people for change, even though she had a brand new iced coffee in her creepy little hand.

As I was waiting for my delightful smoothie I made an effort to avoid her change requests because she was a bit nasty to those who turned her down. She happened to ask this man whose wife did not take kindly to crazy crazerson asking him for his change. The wife started talking out loud sort of to herself, sort of to everyone in the restaurant that this crazy lady needed to back off. In my normal passive aggressive ways I avoid the physical situation and walk over to the straw counter.

As I grab for my straw I see Crazy coming over to me, I think oh no what's she going to say to me? So I just take my straw give it a tap to break the seal and put it in my drink. Just as I finish Crazy comes over looks me right in eye, grabs about four straws (even though she already has a couple in her drink) and aggressively taps them just as I did, but with a lot more hositlity. She gives me a dirty look and then quickly goes back to her cart.

I couldn't stop laughing. I did nothing to her, I said nothing to her, yet I'm the one who got served straw style.