Yesterday was my 24th birthday. That should probably generate some kind of emotional (if not visceral) response yet I still feel like I'm swimming somewhere around 20. This must have something to do with my anxiety about not being taken seriously academically because of my relative infancy. I am, in fact, about 10 years younger than the average age of the other PhD students in my program. Luke keeps telling me that this is irrelevant yet I can't help but feel as though I must prove myself tenfold because of this ageist handicap. And let's see this paranoia hit it's peak when I'm teaching in 6 weeks time.

Aside from this bleak consideration of my age in academia the "magical day" itself was in fact a low-key delight. Awaking slowly with my boy beside me, and taking time to shower and open the considerable amount of gifts sent down from my family, and from Luke himself. Breakfast was something else in itself -- the tastebuds and pleasure receptors vibrating in ecstacy over the buttermilk pancakes (with pear! and fressssshhhhh cream), the cheesy toast and blood orange juice from RHCL.

Trotted along to a matinee screening of Secretary which I blissfully enjoyed but which Luke remains ambivalent about.

Then HK-style noodle soup!
And a slow walk up Brunswick St toward home...