So today marks twenty years. It feels odd to say that. I remember my tenth birthday quite clearly–most of all I remember the excitement with which I approached that second digit. I had two numbers in my age, and that was big. There was a slumber party with about ten of my friends sleeping in a tent pitched in my backyard. That evening everyone decorated a page for me, which my mother later made into a little booklet marking my birthday and life up to that point. I still have it, tucked safely away amongst my belongings in North Carolina (they’ve seen the world by now, they have).
I want to thank everyone who’s wished me a happy birthday: Dennis, Lindsey, B, CoCo, Amy, Roadie, Martha, Matt, Sara, Imke, Megan, LaJuan, Michael, Marlon, Libby B., Dave, Cheryl, Brooke, Tony, Greg, Jessica, Eric, Mark, and, of course, Mom and Dad (whose lives I changed immeasurably two decades ago). I’m certain to have forgotten someone there, and I apologize if I have. Each and every one of you brightens my life, and, for that, I thank you.
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