12.6.12

My throat is swelling up and my face has the odd sensation of someone slamming it against a glass door, but I feel like I owe it to the Internets people to write something funny.

OK, let's be honest, I don't owe anyone anything. Except Jessica. I think I still owe her like 20 bucks.

It's December again. Did you hear? My favorite month. Full of Hallmark Original Movies and really crappy baked goods that everyone eats because it's Christmas time and they're afraid of hurting Great-Aunt Bertha's feelings by not eating the gluten-egg-sugar-free oatmeal raisin cookies. This is the month of horrific Target commercials and Real Simple magazine ads giving you ideas for stocking stuffers "Under $100!" and "Gifts for the whole office!" for 50 bucks a pop. I don't know who Target and those other retailers are trying to market toward, because my stocking's contents over the past 25 years combined hasn't reached a value of $100. I mean, Thin Mints and tooth brushes aren't cheap, but come on.

(Hey Mom, thanks for all the stocking stuff. I really like Thin Mints. And tooth brushes. You're the best. Love, Elizabeth.)

December also happens to be the month of my birth. That's right, as a little taste of the joy December 25th brings, you get a taste of Elizabeth on the 8th. — But not a real taste. That's disgusting. And illegal. And I have about 17 communicable and non-communicable diseases. So, buyer beware. Not that you can buy me. That's also illegal.

I'm turning 25 on Saturday. Twenty5. Two-Five.

I feel like I should buy fireworks or write up a Last Will & Testament, or, you know, eat brownies. Maybe listing out my top 25 accomplishments will make me feel better about hitting a quarter-century. Here we go then:

25. Learning to walk. Very important.
24. Cursive. Also crucial in this ever-advancing technologically-driven world.
23. Eating an entire box of Oreos in 24 hours by myself at age 19.
22. Crashing my scooter three times within the first three weeks of owning it, and not totaling it.
21. Getting my first kiss in high school.
20. Not getting any STDs in high school. (Or college. Or, ever.)
19. Memorizing the monologue at the beginning of The Lord of the Rings movie.
18. Owning a Perry the Platypus plush toy.
17. Sending away for an Avengers poster with cereal box-tops and $4.
16. Fixing the drain in my apartment.
15. Riding California Screamin' six times in one day.
14. Barfing on the first day of lacrosse practice in front of the whole varsity team after running a mile.
13. Barfing across the kitchen table after reaching for just one. more. taco.
12. Getting stuck in the basement bathroom for an hour because I didn't want the missionaries to see me in my pajamas. And surviving to tell the tale.
11. Using perfume bottles and matches to make fireballs in the tree house.
10. Stealing upwards of $10 from my mom's purse in first grade to buy pencils from the pencil machine at school.
9. Skipping recess detention in first grade because I was so bada** and then playing POGs for keeps and cleaning out Helen and Tony's stash.
8. Losing a toenail after running the Red Rock Relay. Like I was saying, bada**.
7. Making my own skinny jeans out of boot-cut jeans and daring to wear them in public.
6. Eating an ant.
5. Asking a chaperone to dance at a Stake Dance.
4. Beating Dr. Mario on Speed Level High. (Take off the last two words in that sentence and you have another great accomplishment. Unfortunately not one of mine.)
3. Getting my bachelor's degree but still making less than people with a high school diploma.
2. Turning down the hoards of boys beating down my door so I can remain single and independent and go on a mission.
1. My hair. I mean, seriously, have you seen my hair?

Happy Christmas!

-eg

3 comments:

  1. Happy early birthday! Love the list.

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  2. First off, kudos. I can relate to many on your list. Number 3 has given me a great amount of grief as of late. Happy Birthday just the same, though!

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  3. Okay, so maybe the value of your stocking stuffers balances out the money you stole from my purse. So, there you go.

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