dira | Two things.

1) Drinking while watching Sports Night was accomplished without harm to anyone; clearly

iuliamentis and I are getting old.

2) Speaking of which: today is my twenty-seventh birthday (and, yes, it's been quite happy so far).

I had a professor, when I was an undergraduate, who opined that twenty-seven is the age at which twentysomething placeholding activities (living at your parents' house, working a McJob, etc.) stopped being charmingly slackery and started being An Issue. For some reason I took this to heart, so as my birthday approached I'd been kind of assessing where I stood in relation to What I Want to Do, and for the most part it's going pretty well: I'm living on my own, I actually personally own the car I'm driving for the first time in my life, I'm working at a professional job in my chosen field, and then, well, then there's writing.

See, I'm a librarian, and sort of numbers-obsessed when it comes to my writing, so I have this spreadsheet that tracks the word counts of everything I post to my website. And right now, it looks like this:

Which means that I've posted over a million words of fic in the last six years. It was right around my twenty-first birthday that I tapped out Small Mercies in a fit of outrage after the Buffy episode "Same Time, Same Place," and I've never really stopped since. I think I've come a long way in six years, and I am really, really happy to be here.

And I'd like to thank every one of you for making it such a fabulous place to be; it wouldn't be the same without you.

So, in short: \o/