Yesterday I ran into Kirsten at the Stealth Lacrosse game. (Stealth vs. Chicago Shamrox, exciting game, very close, but we ended up losing by a single point.) It was fun to see her again, but also strange. She's twenty-nine now, and yet she still acts the same as when we first met. That's not really a problem, I suppose. She's one of the most energetic and outgoing people I've ever had the pleasure to know - but at the same time, she's got a year until the big three-oh.

She was telling me about how she and Stee had come to the game stoned, and how she had a huge craving for food and he had magically produced cocoa puffs from his jacket, and this made him the best friend ever. That's all well and good, but as she was describing the 'adventure' to me I just kept looking at her skin, and noticing certain wrinkles that have become far more prominent since I saw her last. Party wrinkles are what I would call them - they are the creases you see most frequently on party-hard celebrities (imagine Janice Dickinson or, if you'd like to go younger, Tara Reid - heck, even Paris) that don't make you seem older, but definitely gives you the appearance that a new skincare regime would work wonders. Crow's feet, smile crease, and those lines that extend off the nose and connect to the smile crinkle, if you have any idea what I'm trying to describe.

Anyway. I guess seeing her made me feel old; is that strange? It was a bit surreal, because it triggered the whole "treading-water-not-swimming-forward" mood that has been lingering over me the past few weeks. Kirsten's virtually the same as she was when I first met her in 2003; have I changed myself, made improvements on my life, or are these just illusions I feed myself as I go?