When I was 17, my friends n' I hung out with a group of boys in their 20's. I met the guys through my sister's friend -- one of them was her cousin who she wanted to set me up with. It didn't really go anywhere because he was a bit of a whore-dog (he even had a necklace which proudly proclaimed such status) and not to mention he was really, *really* dumb. Even so, he was a nice enough guy, and so were all his friends. I quickly ended up befriending all the boys, and it wasn't long before I had introduced them to my gang of girls.

The boys rented rooms from this 37 year old guy, Karl, who also lived in the house. Their place was obscenely convenient -- only two blocks from my parent's house -- and it quickly became our regular party pad for a couple years to come. It was a place where we could be rebellious, but feel safe -- a place that has forever been etched into our minds.

It's funny how you could say Summer of '94 or even Summer of '05, and I wouldn't be able to tell you off the top of my head what I was doing those years. But Summer of '96... for my friends n' I, it will always stand out. You needn't say anything else, and we're all immediately taken back to that old white house with the blue porch light - that summer's soundtrack playing through our minds. It was a real "coming of age" time, when there was a definite shift felt by all of us.

I could tell a million fun stories about the adventures we had hanging out on Catherine St., and someday I probably will share a few little stories... but for now, there is one in particular that comes to mind.

I remember when one of the older boys, Whitey, turned 25. I remember partly because I used it against him... he often asked if I'd be his girlfriend and my excuse was always, "No Whitey, you're just too old for me. I don't date anyone over 5 years older." While that was true -- I really didn't want to date anyone more than 5 years older -- the real truth was that I just wasn't interested in Whitey. Instead I tried pawning him off on my less fickle friend.

Anyhow, I remember for almost a whole week after Whitey's birthday, he sat on the couch looking almost stunned, mumbling over and over to himself, "A quarter of a century... A quarter of a century..." We all started getting worried about him. He took turning 25 WAY HARD. Much harder than he should have. (However, that being said, I should probably note that years later we learned that Whitey actually had legitimate issues with depression. So that might explain a few things.)

Because I didn't know of Whitey's depression problem, I worried that I might experience similar feelings of sadness when I eventually turned 25. He just made it seem so traumatic. Instead, fortunately, it came and went with ease. I didn't take any issue with it -- although a couple of my friends actually did, (of course none of them took it as hard as Whitey).

I have never had a problem with numbers and I'm sure that I'll embrace my 75th birthday with the same enthusiasm as my 25th. So this morning, when I logged into Messenger and my friend messaged me, "Good morning sunshine! This is your last day being 28!!! How does it feel?" I had to laugh. It doesn't feel like anything... In many ways I still feel like the same person I was back in Summer of '96... except now I don't have to lie to my parents about where I'm going, and I've come to prefer a pint of beer over a bottle. Oh, and I guess you could say that I've probably matured a little in those 12 years as well... but really, I think I still have that same enthusiasm and excitement for life that I had back then.

Another friend of mine told me that his 29th birthday really threw him for a loop. Of course, he had just gotten married and was expecting his first child. He was entering a new sort of coming of age, as he was now a husband and soon to become a father. He said compared to 29, turning 30 was a breeze.

I wonder why people put so much emphasis on numbers? I think my friend would have been thrown for that same loop, given his change in lifestyle, no matter what age he was. Marriage and kids is a major shift... turning 25, 29, 30, 31 is not.

I suppose if anything, it gives me a milestone marker as I see how much I can accomplish this year while the sun sets on my 20's. If my 30's are going to be as good -- if not better -- than my 20's, then all I have to say is I can't wait!!