My Birthday and Other National Holidays

Yes indeed, the unrelenting parade of time and marched on and soldiered past my 25th birthday on September 1st. I was asked more than once if being 25 felt any different. Any different than what; being 24? Or did it feel any different than catching my foot in a bear trap. For the record, no, 25 feels a whole lot like 24, and having never caught my foot in a bear trap, I can't comment on any similarity to that situation. Turning 25 did get me thinking about where I am in life relative to where I may have imagined myself to be at this particular milestone. I'm not ashamed of where I am, but this isn't quite where I planned to be. Anyway, I'm addressing the situation and I'll keep you posted on future developments.

Now, on to the actual celebration. Friday was my actual birthday, and I celebrated first by going to work. That was delightful, I even got a shout out from the store manager wishing me a happy birthday. Maybe next year he'll get my name right. Also, I had to order my own birthday cake. Certainly a step up from the years that I got no cake at all. Anyway, after work Mom, Dad and I rounded up Grandma and headed off to GiGi's for some delicious pizza. Being 25 and in the mood to try something wild and crazy, I opted for anchovies on my pizza. I do not think I'll be selecting that option next time. It was kind of like having little fish-shaped lumps of salt on my pizza. After dinner it was back home for some cake and a movie. The movie of choice? Failure To Launch. I suspect there were some underlying tones to the film, but I chose not to pick up on them. My first round of gifts included a set of those really neat-o measuring cups Alton Brown uses, as well as a salt cellar like the one he uses. It was good times. I had Saturday off, and started the day with my daily rollerblading expedition, followed by my not-so-daily road trip to Orlando to dine at Emeril's Tchoup Chop. The food was absolutely delicious. I had an apple glazed pork chop with ginger mashed sweet potatoes, and Dad had a braised lamb shank with a sherry wine reduction. Mom had some fancy Hawaiian dinner plate that had a bunch of different stuff on it. For dessert we shared banana cream pie and a frozen coconut souffle. If you're in the Orlando and in the mood for some high end cuisine in a nice atmosphere, I can't recommend Emeril's Tchoup Chop highly enough.

Labor Day followed closely on the heels of my birthday, and we celebrated by having a small family get-together starring some ribs I made. I will humbly say that these were some darn good ribs. Although they did follow the standard low and slow cooking method, it was done in the oven, so I can't in good conscience call them BBQ ribs, but they got the job done. It was good to see the family, even cousin Kell was there, fresh from her return from California. My other cousin Megan was supposed to be there, but that didn't happen. I've almost forgotten what she looks like. Anyway, a good time was had by all, and my cousin Ronnie and I finished out the evening by standing in the street and throwing a big styrofoam airplane back and forth like when we were kids. And just like when we were kids, it broke long before we were doning having fun with it. Next stop: a bottl rocket powered styorfoam airplane. Its lauch and return will be nothing short of spectacular.

Moving on to some other exciting news. Of all the people in the world, Lee contacted me the other day! Apparently my number had been kicking around in her phone for a while now, and she decided to give it a try and see if it was still me at the other end. The really weird thing is that just a few days earlier, I spent about an hour on the computer tracking her down on MySpace. We met up at a Starbucks, and it was just like old times. It was really good to see her again, and I'm glad it wasn't all weird seeing her after like 5 years.

Now, dear readers, I have some tragic news for you. As you all well know, I'm formulating a trip to Switzerland, and in doing some research, I came across a book about the different cultures in Europe. I fear I may be a closet Frenchman. As disturbed as you may be to hear this, I am suffering ten-fold. But let's look at the facts: French people are notoriously late, plan their entire day around meals, and argue simply to test the intellectual fortitude of others. Perhaps most damning of all is their love of fresh bread. Mercifully it has never come to this, but I can't say that I wouldn't shank an old lady with a plastic fork if she got between me and some fresh baked bread. I always figured I would have more in common with the Germans, but that just doesn't seem to be the case. I appreciate all your support during there trying time while I seek to figure out where I fall in the international hierarchy.

But enough of that melancholy business, let's move on to:

Winners & Losers

Winner: the following quote about the European community: Heaven is where the cops are British, the cooks are French, the mechanics are German, the lovers are Italian, and the whole thing is run by the Swiss. Hell, of course, is where the cooks are British, the cops are German, the mechanics are French, the lovers are Swiss, and the Italians run the whole thing. I love ethnocentric stereotypes when told in joke form!

Losers: Segway owners. When it was first introduced, the Segway was supposed to be the future of personal transportation; no longer would we have to burden ourselves by walking dozens of feet down the grocery store aisles for we would all have our two-wheeled transportation devices. Then came the price tag. Even if I had owned one since infancy, I would never be able to recoup the cost by saving all that shoe leather. The Segway is for my generation what the hovercraft was for kids of the 1950s. Now when I see someone cruising around of one of those, I don't see a person on the cutting edge, I just see a rich twit on parade.