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  • For Gina. Remember at Josh & Phoebe's New Year's Party when you asked if I was writing a book? And then a week later commented on my Facebook photo that it looked like the beginning of a book? I do.

    People don't think it means anything when you say things, and often it doesn't -- people have said a million words to you in your life and how many do you remember? Less than 1%. Less than 1% of 1%, probably. But all you need is a couple sentences.

    A few weeks after Gina asked at the New Year's party if I was writing a book, I was reading Catcher in the Rye at 3AM -- I'm a bi-modal sleeper if you didn't know -- and I was near the end of the book when Holden goes to Mr. Antolini's house in the middle of the night. And he tells Holden that he's gonna have to make a decision about what he's doing with his life, and soon, before it's too late. It made me think -- I'm 30 years old. Thirty goddam years. I've been a full-fledged adult for at least a decade. Hell, 10 years ago I was 20 years old, a junior in college. What I wouldn't give to be 20 years old again. I'd have the whole world at my feet. Certainly I wouldn't waste the next decade piddling around with little nothings.

    But then I thought, When I'm 55 years old I'll be thinking, Man what I wouldn't give to be 30 again. Ha! Imagine that! Right now I am an envious age. And so what I thought I'd do is, I'd pretend I was 55 and looking back 25 years to my young, nimble 30-year-old self, and whatever fantastic things I imagined I'd do if I could just be 30 again, I'd just start doing them. It's like a time machine. Right now I'm as young as I'll ever be again. Living in the past is pointless because you can't change anything, but living in the future's past, well, that could change everything. That's what separates us from the monkeys. We're over here skipping decades in our minds and shifting world events, planning out the next 25 years of our lives while they poop in their hands. Stupid monkeys.
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