Teetering over the edge

So, tomorrow is my 29th birthday -- or, as my father would quickly point out, the beginning of my 30th year. Whatever. I mean, I might as well be 30, anyway, because no one ever believes you when you say you're 29.

Still, even though no one really looks forward to birthdays past the age of 21, I at least have a little more reason to appreciate it in adulthood than I did as a kid. The Aug. 25 date meant that although presents were coming, so was school (or, as Texas kept pushing the school start date further and further up in the early 90s, that school had already started). In fact, I had the distinction of being born on the first day of school, giving my youngest sister, who wasn't too thrilled with the aspect of losing her baby-of-the-family status, another reason to hate the day.

Now, however, summer is more of a nuisance than anything else. Sure, it's nice to get out to the beach or a pool for a few days. But mostly, it just means more sweat, more bugs and nightly block parties. Fall and winter bring better fashion choices, more holidays, lower electric bills and marginally fewer tourists.

So, at least now I can be comforted with my birthday by knowing I can box up the fan for another year. Except next year. I plan on being far, far out of the country for that birthday.