Happy Birthday to me, happy birthday to me, happpppyyyyyyy birthday to me. For I’m a jolly good fellow, for I’m a jolly good fellow, and so say all of I, and so say all of I.

Phew, glad thats over with. Absolutely no-one sang happy birthday to me this year, possible, probably the first time in my long life. Apparenly Annett doesn’t “do that” and the people at work (who did buy me a cake though) apparently also don’t “do that”, and I don’t know anyone else here to “do that”. So I’ll have to sing it to myself, which has turned out to be strangely empowering.

25. Even feels longer to say than 24, 24 just rolled straight off the tongue, all youthful and zesty. 25 lingers. its plods its way slowly out, taking it sweet time. I’ve been reflecting on what I’ve achieved in those 25 years, and I’ve realised as I’d told friends already that I feel I wasted the first 15 or so years. There I stuck mainly to lifes introductory chapters - bladder control, talking, bike riding. In short, I started slowly. Since then its been a mad dash to do, see and conquer. In the last year alone Annett and I travelled to 10 different countries around Europe, Asia and now Australasia.

But even at that speed it would take us another 24years to see all the others. Laggards. Time to pick up the pace, there are bad genes on the fletcher male side (my dad being the first to live to over 40 in a few generations). Theres no knowing just how much longer is left. I’ve not even been a millionaire yet, or become an evil dictator, or bathed in Dr Pepper. I thought about writing a list of all the things I’ve done so far and then trying to just take some time out to enjoy them, as I am very bad at ever being satisfied with anything. Then I decided that wouldn’t be very motivatory, and instead I should make a list of all the things I want to do instead, that might be a bit more focusing. Turned out to be a pretty long list. I have an idea what to do with it though and if that works out I’ll put the whole list on a blog somewhere soon.

I can’t see us making it to another 10 countries this year anyway, I’m experiencing serious travelling burnout at the moment. The furthest I want to travel right now is the bathroom, and even thats feeling like a expedition. All I want is normality (or my version of it) - the sofa, books (big up to the Auckland Library), music (5 months worth to catch up on), the internet (geez, what a time sucker that is, i’d forgotten how easy it is to get distracted on it and just wander off for a few hours looking under the internet equivalent of rocks), movies and episodes (if you havent seen it Lars and the real girl is pure genius), plus Entourage, Lost, the Wire……the cultural tap has been switched back on and we’re both drowning in a sea of rapidshare piracy. Heaven. How I’ve missed the simple things.

A monumental event is about to occur (or has just occured, depending on if theres been news I’ve yet to recieve), my old Leipzig buddy Antje will soon produce a mini human. This will be the first mini-human anyone in my friend group has ever produced (a few undesirables in my school year have been laying mini humans like chickens lay eggs since we were 14, but they aren’t friends and don’t count).  So I’m now of the age when my friends will have children. I’ll have to learn how to interact with them, without me or them being freaked out, or making mean slurs about their head/body ratio. Next someone will get married, then someone will buy a house (damn Fraser already did). Fuck, we’re adults now. Where’s the rewind button, I want to go back to only having homework to worry about.

Antje at 9mnths.  I’m awestruck when I see this. How do humans do that?!