You know, it's my little brother's birthday today, he's 18. Andrew Anthony Pitrone turns 18 today, and in his honor I was going to tell the story of my 18th birthday, but then it occurred to me, I can't remember it.
It hasn't been 18 years since or anything. I mean, that might have been a good excuse for not remembering my first birthday on my 18th, but to not remember my 18th when I'm not even 30.... Well, that just reeks of irresponsible memorizing.I'm pretty sure I still lived at home. I'm pretty sure I had long hair, shaved around the back and sides, long on top. (Hey, it was 1996, that was cool then. Or at least is was cool-ish. The Incredible Hulk did his hair like that. Though to be honest, I didn't even look that cool.)
I remember not having a graduation party. I remember being bitter about that. I remember being pretty bitter about almost everything. If I'd had any musical talent I would have started a rock band. (Though lack of talent doesn't seem to have stopped most of the bands I can think of from the time.) Other than that... did I drink? Was I high? I have no idea.
Friday, August 10, 2007
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2 comments:
I heard a discussion of this post at the dinner for Drew's birthday. I realized I can't remember my 18th birthday either. I know Kate gave me the 20 foot long hand-knit scarf and the "Ridiculously Expensive Mad." But that all I remember.
I remember my 17th birthday vividly.
I think I know what you were doing then. You did have long hair, and a trench coat if I am not mistaken. You did not drink, nor were you high. You did have a lot of anger, though.
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