John's going to be 20

Last year around this time, John was home for spring break, and got his wisdom teeth out. I remember writing about cooking mac & cheese because it was soft enough for him to almost eat.

Tonight I made sort of a birthday dinner for John, but no one came to eat it except him and me - beef stew, biscuits, and brownies with a mint chocolate glaze. He might have been able to eat this menu even with last year's teeth. Everything was good, but the web page for the yoga lunch is prettier, and I sure would have liked to have more eaters.

Turning 20 is kind of a rip-off - there's nothing you can do that you could not do at 18. The only benefit is that you're not a teenager anymore, and I'm not sure that's completely a benefit. As Al's ex-girlfriend Cecelia said, you have to start being more responsible when you're not a teenager anymore.

20 might be better than 51 1/2, or at least the way I am feeling at 51 1/2 - and at this time of the year - I have been having that "nothing's quite right" feeling; I'm wasting my time not having enough fun. I guess I am just a spring hum-bug, as Mark said this morning, and it is true - when the snow first melts off, and it hits 60 for the first time, but it's muddy and dirty, (and my basement leaks) I really don't feel as uplifted by spring as I think I am supposed to. I get irritated by everyone saying. "It's so nice" as soon as it warms up. I like to reply, "well, yes, it's warm" or even "we could still get more snow".

And John came in totally trashed at 1:30 a.m., having driven himself home, shit - so the b-day dinner didn't work in that regard either. He got his notice for his court date for the grafitti charges from last July (Mark said, "Justice delayed is justice denied", true) so I guess John had an excuse for drinking, or else he's got turning 20 blues, or spring hum-bug, too.