The Journey, sent a request out that her readers tell her about how our 25th year passed. I don't think I could possibly remember the birthday itself as it was, ahem, a little while ago, but I can to broad strokes. She wants our stories! And her 25th? Well, it kinda sukkd.
When I turned 25, Monkeyrotica and I had been cohabiting for a year and a half, and were about to move from Capitol Hill to Mount Pleasant in DC. Our friend Mat had just bought a large house and needed roommates, so we went in on the deal to help defray his mortgage. I'd been working for about one year as a graphic designer for the same company I work for now (so, unnamed). I'd met Mat at the office, although he had just quit when we moved in with him. Monkey was working for some small 8A firm in Rockville, MD and was hating it, but still took metro to a bus and back every day. We bought our first car together in the latter part of this year.
While in Mount Pleasant, we used to walk to the Woodley Park Metro together every day and count the morning cats, out sunning themselves or peering from windows. We had a mythology that the number of cats we saw was an indication of how complicated our coming day would be. Aiiiieee, a five-cat day!
Our six-year-old pet lovebird, Kita, lived in the sunroom right next to our bedroom; he adored Monkey above everyone else. Kita especially loved a stinky old rucksack of his and would get hilariously territorial if you put him inside it. Whenever we forgot to get Kita's wings clipped, he'd swoop from one end of the house to another and get cocky with power while we were trying to put him back in his cage.
Anyway, our move happened on the hottest day in July and Mat was responsible for reserving the moving truck. This is when I learned that "reservations" with truck rental agencies are ethereal. Our reservation was made, but there were no trucks available. Not one. I wrangled everyone I knew that had a car that morning and mobilized. It was hellish. I borrowed an ancient Chevy Suburban from a neighbor, Frank, and my friend Andrea J. and I drove it the 5.5 miles on vinyl seats with no air conditioning; it refused to move to make the trip back once parked. Somehow, we were moved by the very end of the day.
That's the same year that Andrea J.'s mom died of brain cancer. I flew to Las Vegas to help her deal with the funeral arrangements. Las Vegas was pretty blah when you weren't there to party. We did see the movie Babe in the theater while there, to get her mind off. Monkey and I saw Dead Man in the theater, a premiere, when they were handing out free Neil Young soundtrack CDs and we also saw Blue in the Face and Unzipped together. I'm pretty sure I saw Sense and Sensibility in the theater, but not with Monkey.
Music, I'm not sure. I think our ears were bleeding from the endless repetitions of Macarena. Knowing us, we probably saw Dead Can Dance on tour with "Toward the Within" that year.
With my family, my dad, sister and I would spend at least a long weekend every year in Vermont on a cycling tour, so I'm sure we did that. I was also working at the Torpedo Factory Art Center on Sundays and cycled to Alexandria from DC (20 miles round trip) every week to stay in good form. I was also really, really getting into and enjoying the intense step aerobics classes at my gym.
Well, that was 25. Busy, carefree, out there moving around and doing stuff that hit my fancy! Staying out late, going to Adams Morgan, the Lucky Bar, Big Hunt, or Metro Cafe for fun and drinks with friends. Occasionally working overnight or long hours to finish projects at the office. Monkey and I were engaged (rings and all) but there was no pressure and no date set. We were just enjoying our time together.
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