June 22. I am now 36 years old. Yuck, that’s a fucked up thought, isn’t it? I used to consider anyone above 40 old and with that number getting closer I’ve revised my estimate upwards. I now think anyone above 50 is old, hell maybe even 55 or 60, and I see myself in about seven years once again thinking, “50 isn’t really that old. I still feel like a dumb teenager so it’s fine whatever I’m still young.”
I wish someone told me that earlier. How you never reach a certain age and ever think, “I’m now an adult. I have everything figured out and know what I’m going to do with my life.” Or that you’ll never reach an age and openly say, “I’m an old person now.” No, you still feel like you if that makes any sense. I’ve never felt like ‘adult Jeremy’ and I’ll probably never feel like ‘old Jeremy.’ To myself, I’m me. The current me and the me that’s always been. And as stated before that Jeremy is someone who permanently feels like a dumb, clueless teenager. The only difference is he now somehow seems a bit wiser about life. When did that happen?
36 is Boring Or Birthday’s Aren’t Fun Anymore
Luckily, 36 is a boring age. 30 sucked, 35 sucked, 40 will really suck, but 36 is just meh. We base our number system off tens (the decimal system!) so who cares about 36. If we used base-9 or base-12 numbering then I’d be fucked. But we don’t so it’s fine.
I’m working today, because as everyone 30-years and older says, “Meh, it’s just a day.” What am I going to do? Take off work? So I can sit at home and think about how old I am? Stare at the greys in my beard some more? Try to enjoy myself? Absolutely not. I’m going to work, I’m treating it like a regular day, and I’ll stay as angry/dehydrated/frustrated/stressed as possible to make the day pass quicker. If I heatstroke out, well, Happy Birthday to me I guess.
What Happened on the Day I was Born?
June 22 is a pretty cool day to be born on though. It’s pretty close to the summer solstice – the longest day of the year – and I think that’s neat. There’s nothing besides that though; it’s just a fun little fact.
Hitler also invaded Russia on June 22, 1941. Not as cool as the D-Day babies of June 6 or the Pearl Harbor babies of December 7, and definatley not as notable as Atomic Bomb babies born on August 6 and 9, but Operation Barbarosa is at least somewhat notable.
My sister is also a ‘season baby,’ if you’d like to call it that. Her’s is on March 21, right on/near the vernal equinox. Once again, not that cool, but a fun little fact. You could probably say something about my mom’s menstrual cycle here, but I don’t know if that’s really true or not. Like you’d expect her cycle to drift a bit over the course of five years. I do find it interesting that my sister and I are born on nearly the exact day of our respective months. Do your siblings have birthdays around the same time of the month? It’d be pretty interesting if they did…
What Day was I Born On?
When people tell me their birthday I always ask what day of the week they were born on. Usually people look at me like I’m on crack; yes I did hear you say the date but not the day. No one ever thinks about this probably because it is useless and pointless information to know, but still.
Back in the Age Before the Internet (I’m old, remember?) there wasn’t a good way to figure out what day you were born on. Like you’d have to get an old-ass calendar and look, or do the math working backwards. Neither of these is ideal and now you can just take your calendar app and scroll back like really far to find what day you were born on.
I’m a Sunday baby. Once again, probably doesn’t matter, but I’m thinking that’s part of why I’m so chill. I came into this world on a Sunday – the most chill day of the week – and maybe, just maybe? No, of course not. That’s not how personalities work. But could you imagine having only seven personality types? Well, eight actually. I think the Leap Day babies psychopaths could be their own category.
Fun Facts about Conception
Sometimes I like to work back nine months and see when I was conceived. It’d be around September 20th; I don’t think there’s much significance here. Mabye my mom and dad had a really good late-summer day and decided to have sex or something. Who knows. But do this for my sister: what’s nine months before March 21st? June 21st, the day before my birthday! So on my fourth birthday, I’m pretty certain my parents had a great day for the party, got all romantic/drunk and totally fucked that night. And nine months later: Jeremy, here’s your new sister!
Try it yourself. You might be grossed out.
“What’s, like, your sign?”
A June 22 birthday makes me a Cancer, the most unfortunately-named of all the Zodiac constellations. I’m like right on the border between being a Cancer and being whatever else is near – Leo maybe – but whatever, it doesn’t matter. While I don’t believe in that crap at all I was surprised that I do actually fit the stereotypical Cancer profile. Quiet, timid, emotional as fuck. Stuff like that. That realization did make me go, “Huh…” if even for just a short while.
What Happened the Year You Were Born?
I went to Walmart to buy beer a few years ago. The cashier checked my ID and said, “1986 huh? You know what else happened in 1986?” I said, “Uh…the Challenger explosion?” He said, “Yeah, the Challenger explosion!” with the biggest fucking grin on his face. It’s probably the one time ever that the sentence Yeah, the Challenger explosion! was said with such enthusiasm and joy. Like maybe he was just an astronerd like myself and was hyped that someone else was, but it was still…strange. No one should be that hyped about a space disaster.
So yeah, I was born the year the Challenger Space Shuttle exploded and killed seven astronauts, one of them being a regular school teacher on her first spaceflight. What a fun fact to know.
That sounds like a good point to leave off on. Thanks for reading!