Now that I’m sort of alive again, I must report that I am also a quarter-century-dead.
Unfortunate, I know, but it feels like a much nicer, squarer number than 24. It’s sharp, it’s bright, it’s grassy. There’s no fun in a number that isn’t a landmark.
Also, I’m hoping that my own personal quarter life crisis is at last coming to an end. Goodbye, fears and regrets. Hello…? NY? LA? Time will soon tell.
As it happened: For my birthday, John organized a photo scavenger hunt. We met up with about 15 other people downtown at 2:30 pm.
For the record, at this time on Saturday I was not yet 25. I was born (I believe) around 15:30 in Aurora, CO. That meant I wouldn’t turn until roughly 8:00 on the 14th here. I think. Saturday I confused myself and was thinking 19:30 on Saturday. ydlsxeai si ahdr.
Anyway it was a fairly warm, clear day (Wednesday had brought us a freak snowstorm which rendered my students wild slush monsters) so we were all excited to run around in the good weather. John handed out the targets before going over the rules (big no-no teach-ah!) and we were off.
