Tomorrow is my 23rd birthday. I'm not excited.
Is it cliched to say that I've reach a point in my life where my birthday is just another day out of the year? I've pretty much reached every milestone that one can achieve by merely surviving another year. I got my learner's permit, then my driver's license, then I could vote, then I could buy alcohol, and now there's nothing but the ability to rent a car at 25 and to run for President at 35. While many other occasions such as Christmas and Halloween morph into things that can be enjoyed by adults as one ages, I am of the mind that birthdays are much better in their youthful form.
Normally I'm thrilled by any excuse to bake something delicious, but I'm not even sure I want to make a cake. Alton Brown is currently on TV trying to convince me otherwise.
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