Tomorrow I turn 25. I will have lived, come tomorrow, for a quarter of a century. I was reading an article recently about being born in the 90's. Growing up in a time of relative normalcy, when recording onto video was a novelty. There were no iPods, or HDtv. But I also didnt know about Jazz, or contemporary American literature. I hadnt discovered Ray Lamontagne until last week. Life moves, continously. It just seems like the wave is moving so fast. 5 minutes ago I was 18, running around Israel like it was my playground. Now I've graduated, have been working for a year of my Working Life, and am about to move back to that playground forever. Except on bad days, that playground seems like it's just exploding buses, rude, frustrated people, and a life of no money and continuous, heated political discussion. I know it's not, and I fully understand how much more it is than those things, but today's a bad day.
25, man..
On the eve of every birthday, I tend to look back and think "I'll never be 24 again." But this year I'm going to try and think, "dude, 25 is going to be a fabulous year". And mean it!

I think I'll head to bed, listen to a little Jack Johnson. And no Dido. Definetely no Dido.

Turk: "Yo JD where's my Dido cd?"
JD: " If my heart could sing, this is what it would sound like" - Hands cd back
- Scrubs