On Thursday, March 25th, 2004, I turned the ripe old age of
32 29. Yep. Uh-huh.
My roomate asked me earlier this week what I wanted to do on my birthday, and I made mention that I’d like to do that bowling outing we had planned a few weeks ago; thought it’d be fun. And he did the rest. The group of my friends and buddies, most of them from the IRC channels I hang out in, got to the bowling alley just shy of 9pm; we went in, reserved some lanes, and proceeded to the snack bar. It was there that my roomate presented to me a birthday card signed by all who attended and a few sheets of paper that comprised a pet adoption form from the Town Lake pound. They thought I should get a pussy for my birthday, and they chipped in the money to make it happen. It’s a nice gesture. Heh.
Well, the bowling was fun. I discovered, with much curiosity, that I seriously need to get my heart in shape. The act of getting up and throwing my ball made my heart pound. Yep. Get in shape. Heh. The ten of us had two lanes; I and my lane bowled two games, the other bowled three. My top score was
95 pretty damned good. The score sheets from the rounds are– My lane:Game 1, Game 2 — Other lane:Game 1, Game 2, Game 3. Naturally, we all went by our IRC nicknames. Naturally. Seeing that I had to work on friday, I went home after the gathering. But I had a good time.
Friday night, though, my roomate had another surprise waiting on me. Seriously, I gotta stop telling him my plans and stuff. Remember back two years ago when I was planning on throwing a “Triple X” birthday party, for when I turned 30? Well, he tried to make something similar happen. So, here I am, off of work, I run through the shower and get cleaned up for my usual friday night hanging out with my group of buddies. I go down to Flight Path to meet up, and hardly anyone from the group is there. Slowly, a few people show up, get “bored”, and decide to leave, asking me if I want to go hang out with them at the Love Shack. I finally relent and head down there with them. After noting all the cars in front of the house, which didn’t seem out of the ordinary, considering there’s usually a party or get-together at the “LS” every weekend, I park and we walk in. Everyone inside shouts “SURPRISE!” Surprise? Well, they had decided that I would at least have my porn party; some badly-produced porn, the most funny kind, was playing on the TV. (Never send gay men out to get straight porn. Heh.) I walk around, make my greetings to everyone, and grab a drink. It was going to be a long night. And it was. Went home around 3:30 this morning, sleepy and feeling ok.
Woke up around 11:30. Made some Gatorade to rehydrate myself after the lengthy sleeping-in and grabbed a snack bar. Got the strangest craving for some Genesis, so I’m ripping my two cd’s by the band, “Invisible Touch” and “We Can’t Dance”. That band really had their days; shame they withered away after “We Can’t Dance.” But that’s the thing about the lifetime of anything. Life is a bell curve. Life grades on the bell curve. Being just on the front side of the ascending apex of the curve gives me some perspective if I look around. A long view.
But, now, it’s time to attend to the matters of the day. Later.