This new year a couple of things cropped up to remind me that, age wise, I'm getting older. And it was nothing to do with me. It was other people. See, apparently they get older too. Allegedly at the same rate though I'm sure that it's all relative.
That's Gillon. Fine young lad of 21. I've known him since he was a baby. People that I've known since they were babies aren't permitted to grow up, much less be into their early twenties. Bloody shambles.
Now for the next pic:
Next up is this beautiful baby. You may recognise him from the previous baby photo. His name's Oliver Gilmour, and his mum is Tina. She used to kick me into the fireplace when I was 5. Tina's been like a big sister to me my entire life. And she has been a hardcore drinking buddy for about half my life. And now she's a mum. And as she's Scottish but living in the States, she's petrified her son is going to wind up calling her "mom" instead of "mum". And all that's beside the point because it just makes me feel older than 29 that every one of my old friends and some of my siblings and just about the whole world are married and having kids and mortgages and I don't even have a girlfriend.
So there. That's me. Old and petulant because one old friend has grown into a nice person and another has had a beautiful baby. :-P