Yesterday I turned 28.
Still basking in the glow of birthday wishes on social media (along with the old-fashioned mailed/via phone/in person kind).
How did we do the whole birthday situation before Facebook was there to tell us when our friends’ are coming up? I know that’s a trite little question, but really. I pondered it so much yesterday, as new notification emails popped up, that I wrote a little standup routine inspired by it all. And I am giving it to you now. As a party favor. Enjoy:
Seriously, what did we do about birthdays before Facebook came along?
[audience groans and/or nods appreciatively]
It’s like you’d have to write them down in some book that you carried around with you, which told you what day it was or something.
[audience giggles. Douchebag in the front row leans over to his girlfriend, loudly, “Yeah, they’re called calendars.” Douchebag feels hilarious, self-satisfied.]
(now slipping into character, Maria Bamford style)
…and what else did you do, send your friends thin pieces of cardboard in the mail, with photos of kittens & bad puns written on them? Good one, grandma, now go watch some more “Full House” on Nick at Nite.
Because that’s what you do when you turn 28. You start to imagine all the ways in which your pre-adult experience will be completely irrelevant to all pre-adult life in just a few years. You start to get really protective of boy bands and Hello Kitty and TGIF shows and GoGurt, the yogurt that could travel. Life was good in the 80s, 90s, 00s.
Trust me, Dotti. I lived it.