On singing

The entire chow hall sang "Happy Birthday" to me today, because my buddy Brian and all of my Flightliners started it. I was embarrassed and pleased, and I turned redder than the tomatoes on my tray. I wish I had had my video camera. But it will be a good story to tell to my grandkids.

So... Happy birthday to me. The 25th anniversary of my birth is nearly over where I am, but it is only mid-morning in the town where I was born. That's a strange sensation. So--am I really twenty-five yet, or do I have to wait for 11:09 AM in Eastern Daylight Savings Time on this day? Because that will be 11:09 PM here.

I remember thinking the same kind of thing when I had my 22nd birthday during my first deployment... Time zones are weird.

My mom, when she turned twenty-five, would soon go to the doctor to discover that she'd be having me in nine months. Most of my friends have at least one degree and a few are on their way to a second. I know people who began working at their life's calling before they were my age...

I really don't want this post to sound as though I'm in a blue mood. I think I finally know where I am and where I might be going. There are so many exciting possibilities out there, and I can't wait to start exploring them.

Maybe twenty-five is the new twenty-one.

Happy birthday wishes, also, to my grandmother, Dee Brown; to Brandi K. (we have the same birthday!); and to Ryan Reppe. I am thinking of you, and I hope your birthdays are happy and special.