Yeah. The big, “Oh, shit! I’m inching closer and closer to twenty five…which is almost thirty. How the hell did that happen? What have I done with my life? What is that annoying ass ticking sound I keep hea—is that my fucking biological clock? Laaaaaawwwdddddd; I ‘on wanna be old!” twenty two.
Once the initial shock of realizing that I’m growing older at what must be a non-linear—not to mention exceedingly annoying—rate, I decided I wanted to do something special to celebrate. But I didn’t know what to do.
I was thinking about doing something “deep” and “meaningful” to show how much I’ve “matured” with age. Y’know, because I’m known for being “shallow”, “nonsensical” and “immature”?
Yeah, no. I tossed that idea out really quick.
After that, I thought about doing a letter to my future self from my then present self so that when Future Ren read it, she’d (I’d?) be reading Past Ren’s thoughts. The meaningfully deep levels present had the potential to reach an annoyingly pretentious high, so before I could make my future self hate m then current, now past self, I decided to scrap the idea and push it along like ATCQ.
After a host of other terrible ideas, some of which are too terrible to even mention, I finally decided to shoot a birthday video…which I never actually finished. Or really even began for that matter. I quickly discovered that I have this weird verbal diarrhea meets ADHD thing goin’ on which is no good. Besides that, have you seen my skin? Horrible. I look like the “before” portion of a Proactiv ad, smh.
I ended up not doing anything. Which sucks. I didn’t post anything on my much more important and much less scarring (unless you happened to be my liver that night) twenty-first birthday and I completely ignored my second Bloggiversary back in February.
…But that wasn’t the point of this.
My birthday was suppose to be my relaunch date.
This, The (Infamous) Life, was something I started for me. Hell, it's still is for me. But lately, I've slipped and slacked off in the worst way. And I know that I've said this in the past, but that won't be happening again. I mean it this time.
So, with all of that said?
I’m officially back on my shit.