Appearances Can Be Aged

Next year I turn 25. Now to be fair, the statement is a bit melodramatic because my birthday is on Halloween, and next year is a long way away, so I am still a very healthy 23 years old.

Beyond that too, I'm not really that concerned about my age, but there are certain things I am noticing that are a bit weird.

Namely, as bad as this might sound, I'm noticing that a lot of people who are my age look old. Like it was one thing when you were past the awkward growth spurts, or starting to develop real adult features, but there are some folks who could easily be pushing the 30 barrier with kids, and no questions asked. That's where it gets a bit scary.

What is odd about the whole thing, is that it seemed to suddenly have happened within the last year. As if our biological clock somehow knew that after the four year American undergraduate tradition, a transformation should commence.

Now, I don't want to sound as if I am lamenting the idea of age, as I think most folks know I am very much looking forward to the time when I can be a grizzled old man who can socially say whatever he wants. (Some would say I'm already there...) Furthermore, this aging that I've noticed is in the vast minority of the folks I know.

But poke around facebook a bit, and you'll see that certain people your age and even younger, are flat out adults. I would post photo examples, but I can't even imagine the retribution that would bring... It's hard to put your finger on exactly, but you know when you see it.

Perhaps we're there as well?

Politics

Does nobody else think it's utterly hilarious that in legitimate political discussions, SINBAD is being brought up in all seriousness?

Other than his falsely rumored death on Wikipedia several years back, I don't think I've thought of the guy since I saw the critically acclaimed Houseguest.

Beards

For my upcoming trip to the Middle East, I decided that to fully fit in, it would be ideal to have a beard. So as of last Saturday, I have not shaved. I wish I could say that a lot of deep, pensive thought went into it, but basically I was in the metro with Jerry on Easter, and this is all that happened:

Me: "So, I'm thinking about maybe growing a beard for the trip."
Jerry: "Yeah, you really got to."
"Yeah, but I don't know, though."
"Well, I think you, like, have to, don't you?"
"I suppose."
"Yeah."
"Done!"

And so, it seemed like a good idea. I forgot, though, that beards don't come as instantaneously as the whim to grow them does. So now I am in the awkward post-four days stretch, where it just looks like there is something awkward growing on your face.

Furthermore, in my previous three or four beard growings (there have been more concerted efforts with themed names in the past several years than any face should go through. Octobeard, Lenten Beard, Peruvian Beard, etc.), I have noticed something a bit peculiar that I think tends to run in my family.

The mustache and goatee grows in much more quickly and stronger than the beard on the cheeks. And like previous, attempts, it is happening again. This has led me to consider a rather unorthodox strategy.

With my facial hair several days in, I would shave only my mustache and goatee, while leaving the cheeks untouched. It would basically be like letting the cheeks tee off from the women's tee's on a golf course.

The goatee hitting from the back tees.

But then, I realized that the implications would be that for about two to three days, I would be walking around with a beard that lacked the center, and that would be much too ridiculous of a look to ever take on.

And so, we wait...

In perhaps the creepiest collage one could ever possibly make, here it is, through good times and bad.

That Solo is Just Perfect

By the way, how freakin' sweet is Devo:

On Silence

So about two weeks ago, I was facing deadlines for essays do in my classes. My natural response when I was supposed to be in the library working was to spend an entire day not researching, and figuring how to incorporate a blog into my old web site.

Clearly once the novelty wore off, I didn't really return...

(Until now, hopefully)

As of now, though, the essays are done and I am on a break prepaing to go to the Middle East a week from today. Fly to Istanbul, take a train to Aleppo, Syria, a bus to Jordan, and a bus to Israel, then back to London. There are some natural concerns regarding the trip, but I figure I'm more likely to get in a car accident driving on the 405.

My girlfriend and her sister visited last week, which was a lot of fun. St. Patrick's Day in Ireland, punting in Cambridge, and pub hopping in London. When I came back home after they left, it was odd, though, because none of my roomates were home. On Monday I spent the day working on things at the house. I went to the market that evening, but it was closed due it being Easter Monday. Upon returning, it dawned on me that I was going to go the entire day without speaking to anybody.

That really is a bizarre notion because I can't really imagine a day in my life where I spoke to nobody. Content and somehwat excited (and admittedly a little bit concerned) with the idea, I settled in for a quiet night. But shortly before midnight, my roomate arrived after a trip, and I did escape what seemed to be the inevitable silence.

I have to say that it made me happy.

It's Starting

It has been a while since I regularly kept a journal online. With some inspiration lately from a couple of friends, I think I may rejoin. As for now I am currently still studying at Cambridge, which is quite interesting. Needless to say, I am ending up in situations I could have never really imagined.

Exhibit A:

Anyway, more to come soon...