I feel like there's something introspective, something deeply reflective I should be writing here. Today's my birthday. 25, to be exact. It's a strange birthday, one of those not-young-but-not-old birthdays. It feels like a pretty good place to be, and I feel like I'm doing pretty well for 25. Trying to start up my own company, still hammering on the novel, about to ring in seven years' worth of Inkblots... Not too shabby, no. I didn't get the novel or the portfolio site updated for today like I'd been hoping to, but I'm not going to stress about it. It's my birthday, after all. :)

I'll let you all in on a little secret, though. Birthdays when your friends are scattered across the world are kind of a bummer. Makes it kind of tricky to get everyone together to go out for a pint.