(My 50th birthday present to me)
Yep, I've hit the half century of years on this planet. So I figured it was time to make a return to Fictions, some four years and a bit after the last post. And yes, I do realise that it's effectively shouting into the wind with no one listening after all this time.
But yeah, 50.
Seems so incredibly old. I remember thinking about age when I was back in school, back when I was sitting on the Priory School hall floor and imagining just what it would be like to be 20, 30, 40, 50 and just not being able to get my head around it. (I also remember thinking how good it would be to get up the courage to actually tell the little girl with the long brown hair how I felt about her - but that's another very long and very interesting story in itself.)
Anyway, back to the age thing. Back when I was 10 it seemed like a lifetime to get to 50. Back when I was 15 and my own dad turned 50, he seemed so bloody old.
But now I've actually managed to get to 50 myself, it doesn't seem all that much at all. I don't feel old. Not in any way. I certainly don't identify as old. And I definitely don't think I'm anything like what a 50-year-old was like when I was a kid.
So happy birthday to me,
Happy birthday to me,
Happy birthday dear me,
Happy birthday to me.
50 years on the planet.
I've lived in Dudley, Birmingham, Pocklington, and Las Vegas.
I've been married twice.
I've got a wonderful 21-year-old daughter.
I've worked in many different places and never felt more at home than when I'm around comics, whether that was my first job at Nostalgia & Comics or what I know will be my last job as a writer.
And I've never been happier than I am right now.
50 years... no problem at all.