Tomorrow (Friday), I will have been alive for 25 years. Ho-ly shit, y’all. That is a lot of Amanda time and I’m not so sure how I feel about it.
I’ve always been the baby.
But now I’m old, and my vocabulary is more likely to include the words: Escrow, mortgage, HMO, pantsuit, and atherosclerosis. Other likely candidates? Red Lobster, Prilosec, and Rite Aid.
Regardless, I will now write a tribute to myself. That’s only fair, right? It’s been a good quarter-century.
Some important milestones:
- I have seen approximately 87 Jack’s Mannequin shows.
- I’ve visited 27 states, 3 continents, and 10 countries. Booyah.
- I became a vegetarian. And then I stopped.
- I learned how to be a lady from one of the greatest women I’ve ever known.
- I changed my hair color no less than 7,000 times. It’s a bit of a Christmas miracle.
- I left everything familiar and moved to the West Coast.
- I got Scuba certified.
- I was the Maid of Honor in my sister’s wedding.
- I went to the Sundance Film Festival. Benjamin Bratt refused to give me his autograph.
- I learned how to ask for a raise. And how to get it, frick yeah.
- I held a lot of spectacularly awful jobs and had batshit crazy roommates. Someday I will write short stories about them, David Sedaris style.
- I haven’t grown up.