Getting older.

I find it difficult to keep track of the passage of time. Sure I'm getting older, yes things are happening, but time is like this amorphous enigma housed in an illusory-scented intangible. It's true, I can no longer put my socks on the way I used to -- I can't bend that much anymore. Pretty soon I'll have to heave myself out of chairs and fall slowly into them. Other than that, though, not much has changed. I don't really look different (I don't, ok?) and every year kind of seems the same...just like my bedroom, which hasn't changed since I moved in as a fresh college grad. Spiderman poster and all.

This isn't generally an issue, except when I need to confirm that I am, in fact, myself and not a better looking impostor. One day I called the IRS for information on my taxes, and they asked me where I worked in 2008. Um...I'm sorry, when? I couldn't think of any answers...so we accidentally got cut off...oops. Bye!

The solution?

Babies.

People need to have more babies. They're like living clocks. My trip to Greece was pretty epic but it's not continually getting older before my eyes so I have no idea how long ago it was. I find myself looking at my friends who are having babies and second babies and thinking, "Wow, it's really been a year?" Or 2 or 18. It's a great measuring tool!

My little brother is graduating from high school this summer. This is a picture from when he was born:

We were all really excited...

Yes, I'm the one on the right. Kathryn, the sibling next to me, is the one getting married. Crrrrrazy. Off to college, Jamesy. Off to woo girls. Off to conquer the world.

And now, I have my own little drooling timepiece. Well...kind of. On September 2 I became a god-aunt. I don't care what her parents say, she's even named after me.

Meet Nora Jane Alene:

That was at about 2 1/2 months. Here she is at 7:

Babies, babies, babies!

There...now you can consider this an official blog.

Everything is about to change.

The end of an era has come. In 4 months time my family, as I know it, will be gone -- changed forever by the face of one who doesn't yet belong.

My sister is engaged.

I am the second oldest of 8 unmarried kids and have often wondered how a newcomer would change our family dynamics. Naturally, I'm skeptical...and maybe a little protective of this family I adore so much. I'm trying to be open and supportive, but mostly I feel like this:

You can't have her.

Yes, yes, I am happy for her. Of course I am. Theoretically I can't wait until we're all married. In practice, however, I don't like the idea of having to share her with anyone else's family. Not at all. Call me selfish but bears eat beets. It's the truth.

Admittedly, it's also a little strange to think that my 19-year-old sister knows more about love and successful relationships than I, in my recently budding 28-year-old-ness, have had the opportunity to learn. But don't think that I'm struggling with some ummarried-older-sister complex. Or an overuse-of-hyphens complex. I always knew it would happen this way.

So three cheers for Kathryn! Three cheers for officially becoming an aunt someday! (I'm getting tired of scavenging other people's children, you see.) Three cheers for another James in the family! (I will really need to figure out how to pluralize that name... Your James or our James? Both James'sss''ss's's'sss's.) And...three cheers for me! (This blog isn't about anyone else, after all.)

Update, update.

This is what I used to do:

"Meet an Inventor" event. (Check out the second video.)

NOW, I work for these people:
Exciting, right? I got a summer internship with Varian Medical Systems here in town. They make X-ray tubes. I don't really know what that means or what I will be doing but it's SCIENCE! I mean, engineering, but whatever.

I start on Tuesday. If it's anything like my old jobs I'll have to do really tedious work for a supervisor that hates me. Cross your fingers!

Musical debut.

I did it folks, I really did it.

I've been playing the guitar since the 8th grade and, actually, my first musical debut was finger picking The Beatles' "Yesterday" during a Young Women's Achievement Night. I stared at the music the whole time and didn't smile once. Later, I played "Brown Eyed Girl" at a Ward Talent Show. Didn't sing then either. I did con a couple friends into singing for me though, so it's not like I was just up there strumming awkwardly. Not like that at all...

I had a brief stint in a Christmas band but really, that's pretty much the bulk of my public performances until...well, there was karaoke at my friend's going away party a few years ago. I sang "Blue Christmas" in a key that was far too low for my voice. My friend, hiding in a corner behind me, responsible for the "Ooh ooh's" in the background, froze in the spotlight. Really, she just stood there. So I was left alone, cowering in the front while the DJ yelled at me to sing louder. It was a tribute to our friend and we failed miserably.

You can imagine, then, how flatly I declined when I was invited to play at an acoustic night earlier this month.

Flatly, flatly, flatly.

...on further consideration, however, I decided that 1) I should be able to accept what I can currently do without expecting it to be perfect and 2) I shouldn't be afraid to try to be more than I currently am.

So I resigned myself to fearfully facing fear.

There was actually a part of me that felt like once I got up to perform I would be all right. I would realize I knew what I was playing and decide that I didn't care what people thought anyway.

Wrong. I was very, very wrong.

I sat down under icicle lighting, arranged my instrument, and looked out into a vast army of menacing strangers. I made a joke about castanets that nobody understood and promptly broke into a feverish sweat. Then I started playing.

I now present to you my measly efforts: (Please by kind, you're actually watching trauma unfold.)

Next stop: posting videos of solo performances in my bedroom on YouTube.

Island Parkour.

We jumped off the roof. We built a luge run. We sledded behind a 4-wheeler. We played the hot lava game. We fell. We tackled each other. We got covered in snow. We danced. We froze. We yelled a lot...

I can't say it enough.

I love this place.