Birthday Pictures!

You know you want to see them. Particularly if you weren't there to experience the joy yourself. Maybe, if you're really nice, you'll score an invite next year.

But first: you must suffer through my musings. Or, use the scroll bar to get to the good stuff.

I turned 27 this December. And, for the first time in quite a while, I feel like my age matches my place in life. 27 is a bona fide grown-up age. Undergrad was ages (well, years) ago. 27 means you have some life (and work) experience. 27 means you can't go out and get sloshed and blame it on being young and stupid. But you can try. See if you can stay out past 2am anymore...just try it! (And if you can, tell me how you feel the next morning.)

However, 27 is still far enough away from 30 to not induce any panic attacks. And it means you can be a responsible grown-up with out being old, boring, or responsible for anyone other than yourself. 27 just may be the perfect age! I'll let you know eleven months from now.

And now...

Chrystal and me, showing off our ghostly winter complexions.




I have no idea what they're on,
but they sure didn't offer me any. Jerks!




Neal, involved in some deep thinking? Nah, probably not.




Amazingly, none of them are the birthday girl.




The intelligensia.
Don't let their sweet outward appearance fool ya,
these girls can party!