I had planned a fantastic post today about immortality (as one does…) but as I sat down to type it out, my mother called up the stairs:
‘Don’t forget, it’s your birthday tomorrow!’
Thanks for reminding me, mum.
’25! That’s a quarter of a century! A third of your life, GONE!’
You can shut up now, mum.
‘By the time I was your age, I was married and had you!’
I shut my door, sat down and… pouted. How am I meant to think philosophically about immortality — the soul, your mind, infinity — when my mother’s busy reminding me of my own, pesky mortality?
‘I expect grandchildren sooner rather than later, Sebby.’ Somehow, her nagging had penetrated my door. Remind me to buy some high-density foam with my birthday money. To soundproof my room. Though, I could probably smother her with it, too; and no, not in ‘smothered in cream’ sense — I’m not Oedipus.
And so it is with anger in my fingers that I bash out this blog entry. I’m not old damnit. I have plenty of time to get things done, to find the next love of my life and to spawn a son suitable for inheriting my universal empire. Oodles of hours and a slew of centuries — however you measure it, it’s still time, a slave destined to bend to the wishes of its master: us. Mark my words, friends: we will live forever.
Laying aside that particular topic, I have a bunch of fun photos to share with you, to celebrate the first 25 years of my life. But first, as with all living things, there was a birth. I was born after 48 hours of labour, by Caesarean section (fitting, considering my aspirations), to a rather tired mother. I was almost called Dominic (of all names, why Dominic?) but thankfully my mother’s crush for Sebastian Flyte in Brideshead Revisited prevailed. I can’t imagine being called Dominic now; it’s hardly the name of an intergalactic imperator.
That’s me, a month or two old — it’s hard to tell, because I was a huge baby, 10lbs or more (remember, ladies, 48 hours. 2 days of labour). The Brits will recognise the gesture I’m making; the rest of you will just have to believe me when I say it’s a fitting flick of the fingers. Looking through our Hall of Fame (we have a corridor dedicated to our old photos), I hardly recognise myself until I’m about 2 or 3. New-born, I look like my mother — a year or two later, I start to look like my father. By the age of 4, I’m a bit of both but a new ingredient has been thrown into the mix: cuteness.
It’s kind of sad to realise, looking through the hall of fame, that I’ll never be as cute as that again. I peaked at the age of four. Perhaps my mother is right — perhaps I do need to find a wife as soon as possible. Perhaps, as each day ticks by and another year is sliced from my mortality, I’m getting uglier. Ugh. Oh well. I’ll just tell every girl that I meet that I actually look just like the photo above, if I shave it all off. That’ll work.
Things got a little wonky after that, and I shan’t be posting pictures from my teenage years again. If you really want to see what I look like, go and read my childhood entries. Warning: I look a bit like a girl.
Moving swiftly on, from the androgynous Beatles-lookalike stage of my life, I bring you kicking-and-screaming to my 21st birthday!
I’m having more fun than it looks, I promise. I’m just making it quite clear that the bits of foil stuck on my face were not my own doing, and they kept falling off into my food. Japanese food deserves better than that, damnit! Fun side-story: the phone being looked at in the background has naked photos of my ex-girlfriends on, and they’re just about to find them. And one of them was my girlfriend at the time (hah, that’ll teach them to pry!) It’s also the phone I eventually lost on a bus, making some guy (or girl) very lucky indeed… sorry, girlfriends. I’m sure they can’t identify you from that angle, anyway.
I’ll finish with a photo from my last summer ball — the final event in the university’s social calendar — with what seems to be a very happy girl in my arms:
It’s shocking how much I look like my cousin, but that’s another story for another day! By the time you read this, I’m probably in bed, trying to catch a few fleeting hours of sleep before my mother bounds into my bedroom to celebrate the passing of yet another significant milestone in my life. Twenty-one, check. Quarter-century, check. The next must surely be ‘get married’… Or will thirty come and go…?
It’s not too late to send me a birthday present! I accept almost any form of gift/keepsake including, but not limited to: book token, personalised poem, (un)used underwear, cash or banker’s draft.
Hannah
May 11, 2009
!!!HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! xxXOooXxooXooOxXX (<–read this like Nacho does in his letter to Sister Incarnacion in Nacho Libre)
pinkjellybaby
May 11, 2009
For you Birthday present, i’m in the process of getting you more pictures of me when I was young, and hot….
Abi
May 11, 2009
Chuh, you are not getting uglier. Warraloadofoldcock. I suspect you know that is not the case, so I will not elaborate. I love these kind of posts, there is nothing like a chubby baby flicking the V’s to start the day- and I am appreciating the knitwear in photo two probably more than I should. Apparantly I also “peaked at the age of four”.. what is up with that?.
Happy Birthday x
jen - tsk
May 11, 2009
HAPPY BIRTHDAY!! They should’ve married you off aged 2! You were definitely a cute 2-year-old!! 25 isn’t so bad, I’ve been here a few months now. I still tell people I’m 23…I don’t even consciously lie about it I just like the way it sounds! x
Helen
May 11, 2009
I thought 24 was bad… although I was greeted with a “I was married by 24!” phone call from the sibling…
You were very cute! and you’re not bad now either!
Chele
May 11, 2009
Happy Birthday Seb have a great day. You were such a cute child, of course still cute.
Get used to the parent nagging about grand kids and marriage, I been having it for the past 5 years as well
sebastian
May 11, 2009
Yeah Chele, but you ARE old… like… 26 or something? I’m merely… getting oldER. Plus, life is so unfair — boys can wait for years and years… And EVENTUALLY live the dream of marrying a 21 year old at the ripe, old, wrinkly age of 80…
*sighs wistfully*
I read it out loud, Hannah, just for you. And now my mother’s asking me what’s going on in my room.
Pink… you know me too well. That’s probably not too hard, given my reaction to your previous photos, but… well, it’s my birthday. If I’m not allowed to be a lech today…
That’s a good plan, Jen, but a bit useless, now that I’m old and hairy. I’ll marry off MY kids when they’re 2 though, and they should be GRATEFUL.
And now… pancakes.
pinkjellybaby
May 11, 2009
It will have to be belated…they are currently being scanned and transported to Spain… but there IS one of me in a bikini and one of me in a very short skirt…I hope it’s worth the wait!
sebastian
May 11, 2009
Most of my ‘active’ life, from 18-21, was spent waiting for girls to turn from 15 to 16… I can be very patient, don’t worry!
andhari
May 11, 2009
HAPPPYYY BIRTHDAAAAY, as if I haven’t told you enough already hahaha don’t rush greatness, tell your mom you need to dominate the world some more before marrying Eliza Dushku..
the girl in stiletto
May 11, 2009
happy birthday (again) seb!!!!!!!!!! xoxoxo
you were very cute as a child ahahaha. the nagging……. soundproof room sounds like a great plan. not just to keep your mum’s nagging out, but to mask other noises too.
NGHAHAHAHAHAHAH
sebastian
May 11, 2009
The thing is, if I wait too long, the only way I’m going to get a wife is if I’m a king, or emperor… so I either go for a girl now, so that she can fall in love with me before I get old and wrinkly OR… conquer the world, and then have my choice of the world’s fairest maidens.
Choices choices.
sebastian
May 11, 2009
I don’t understand, Stiletto… my loud music?!
Chown Town
May 11, 2009
Just had to refresh the page because I couldn’t look at those really lovely pics and then be confronted by the slightly dusturbing one of you in those furry cowboy chaps (in case you’re wondering, it’s now the one where you appear to be in your dressing gown, half in shadow a la the Bohemian Rhapsody vid)
Those are great pics but I LOVE the one when you’re four – not just because you look cute, it’s a really beautiful picture – did you photoshop it or is it just one of those naturally lovely pics one occasionally stumbles across?
And now for the obligatory ‘Happy Birthday ‘! Hope you have a lovely day and you aren’t regaled with too many ‘when I was your age’ stories!
sebastian
May 11, 2009
… I CAN look cute without the use of Photoshop, thank you very much.
pinkie larue
May 11, 2009
Happy Birthday Seb!
Hezabelle
May 11, 2009
Happy Birthday!!!
I feel like after 48 HOURS of labour, your mom can say ANYTHING and get away with it. Geeze.
Marmalady
May 11, 2009
very cute pics!
such a shame cute babies have to grow up
hope you’re having a fun-filled birthday — and get a huge birthday cake to hold all those candles!
Eric
May 11, 2009
You look like Churchill. Happy birthday!
Alison
May 11, 2009
48 hours. Hah! I say. Hah! Try 86. Mind you, 10 pounds is big. At least my little bot was only a 7 pounder, who incidentally turns 6 months old today.
Happy birthday Seb.
sebastian
May 11, 2009
86! Was that you, or your child?
Happy half-birthday to yours
Do I actually look like Churchill? I dug around the internet for a while, looking for good lookalikes, but couldn’t magic anything up. If I sepia’d it or something, maybe…
Thanks, for the kind words, all!
Rica
May 11, 2009
Happy Birthday!!
Oh God, when I turned 23, my sister in law was like, “I was already pregnant when I was your age!” ><
Awww, love the pics too
sebastian
May 11, 2009
Yeah… my parents met at 18, married at 22… had me at 24…
Tick, tock… tick… Thanks
floreta
May 11, 2009
happy birthday~!!
like i said before i’m glad my parents dont nag me about getting married and having kids
cuuute pictures.
Jo
May 11, 2009
You are just the cutest thing in the whole world and I lurve you!
Happy Birthday baby……
Jossie Posie
May 11, 2009
Happy Birthday Seb!!
I would say that its not that big of a deal but apparently after 25 you start to lose your memory…yesterday I swore to someone that I would be turning 26 in July when it hit me that no, actually I will be 27. They all start to mush together I guess.
I hope you have an absolutely amazing day and I don’t think you peaked at 4, I think the peaking is yet to come.
cari
May 11, 2009
BIRTHDAY!!!
and i agree with jossie posie. i think the best is yet to come.
sebastian
May 11, 2009
Fortunately, Floreta, my sister looks like she’ll be getting married and having kids in the next few years, so the pressure is off me… for now!
I hope the best is yet to come. I know a LOT of good things can only happen, now that I’m older, but I’m fully aware that other avenues are closing off too. But, hey, I think I’ve done well so far — and I’m male too, so fortunately I have a little more flexibility in the order I get things done!
I’m now off to watch a show in some theatre in London, as my birthday present, so I’ll respond to any more comments later
Renee
May 11, 2009
Happy Birthday!! And you are quite a handsome fellow so I think you could stop pouting about that. And you’ve gotten much farther than I have and I’m only a year younger than you…
Katie
May 11, 2009
I was going to send you underwear, but all of mine is used. Sorry. So, I’m going for the poem.
Lights Please.
A little birdie woke me this morning
He really meant no harm
He said it was “Seb’s Birthday today
Set off the fireworks, sound the alarm!”
I wondered why this bird woke me
Part of me wanted to invoke hurt
But then I realized that it was my own fault
as I forgot to turn off my Twitter Alerts.
Once I wiped the crust from my eyes,
I started to scream and shout
And by that I mean I rolled over,
I was in bed and not about to get out
Soon I was bright eyed and bushy tailed
Ready to start my dreaded Monday
But there’s an extra skip in my step
As I know now its your quarter century birthday.
I marched myself right downstairs
Without the slightest of hesitation
I had a morning gallon of mimosas
And started the celebration
From the kitchen I headed to the bathroom
And got myself a shower
I drank some wine from a glass
I could feel the growing power
After the shower I dressed my best,
I was feeling and looking quite dandy
I opened a bottle and poured a glass
Of the worlds finest Brandy.
Soon I found myself out and about
Sitting at the local bar
Not too long and I was out of money
Five dollars doesn’t get you far.
I wanted one more drink,
And to do one more thing
To do a shot of tequila in your honor
I could afford that, I think.
I reached into my pocket but all there was was lint
I hardly knew what to say
The bartender offered me a shot for free
But he had other ideas on how I’d have to pay
I got so angry I let him have it
I stabbed him in the eye
“Touch me again, you jerk
Let me see you try”
New Jersey prisons are strict
and I hope they get this to you,
As soon as I get out, I promise
I’ll have a birthday shot for you!
I assure you that before each drink
I toasted to you, your happiness and health
And most of all that you will always find
And endless supply of love, laughter, and wealth
Happy Birthday!
floreta
May 11, 2009
haha. seb, you have the best readers
Jaime @ Fast Times
May 11, 2009
Oh darling, you’re not old. You aren’t even CLOSE to old. This isn’t 1536 and even if it was, only women were considered old in their 20′s in 16th century England. It’s now the 21st century, and practical marriage age has gone from 14 to 24+.
Now, when you’re nearing 50 you can consider yourself GETTING old. But still not old yet.
I’m a wee bit older than you (by like a year), but I’m not old. I don’t even consider myself GETTING old. I’ll be 26 in 6 days and I’m excited. Sure, there are things I can’t do physically that I could do, say, five years ago… but that’s normal. There were things I could do at 6 months that I couldn’t do at 6 years.
So don’t be angry. You’re getting older at the same rate as ever, but you’re also getting sexier, and smarter, and wiser. Who wants to hang out with teenagers when you could have good conversation and laughs with a nerdy 25 year old instead? Nobody with a lick of sense in their brains! I, for one, can’t wait to be in my 30′s.
teresa
May 11, 2009
Happy happy!
MinD
May 11, 2009
Holy crap, you were so adorable. What happened!?
Kidding kidding. Happy 1/4 century darlin’!!
Eleni
May 11, 2009
48 hours–oh my god! You were clearly quite a rude baby. But cute!
I’m lucky my mom hasn’t gotten on my case yet about “settling down”. I have friends who say their moms are giving them subtle hints, but your mother is not subtle at all!
Happy birthday!
Daniel Cassidy
May 11, 2009
Thankfully my youngest parent is significantly more than 24 years older than I am, so they don’t get to nag.
Happy Birthday!
sebastian
May 12, 2009
I don’t know, Mini, what did happen? Perhaps my mother stopped exfoliating my skin every night after I turned 5, and it all went downhill from there.
Your poem — your ballad — your EPIC TALE — floored me, Kathleen. Awesome! And I’ve always wanted a pet inmate. We can write letters to each other.
In fact, we can correspond purely in short-line prose
Poetry, about your time behind bars
Sonnets, describing your attempts to file down bars,
Haiku about how
you are harried by
men with hose
I see you’re fleeing to Hawaii before your mother can start reminding you, Eleni. Smart move. Your grandparents won’t nag you either, because, well… they already have grandchildren! GENIUS!
Here’s hoping Jaime’s right, and that I peak when I’m 35… not 25!
(And yes, Floreta, you’re right… they’re the best!)
Eric
May 12, 2009
Your baby picture. Throwing the bowfinger like he did. http://media.photobucket.com/image/churchill%20bowfinger/grandsecretary/HandSignWinstonChurchill1.jpg Not a perfect likeness, but it’s the image conjured by my brain.
Alison
May 12, 2009
86 hours was how long I was in labour with him. I now understand however, why these are things our mothers never let us forget.
There’s definitely mileage to be had in that I think. Clean your room! I was in labour for 86 hours with you, now do what I tell you!
Jossie Posie
May 12, 2009
Awww Katie wrote you a poem. She must love you because I don’t know if I would put that much thought into your birthday message. On second thought, I’m sure I would just not this early.
sebastian
May 12, 2009
Well, I can only assume the corset will be my belated birthday present. Or you have something else up your sleeve that you haven’t told me about. Please give ample (!) warning though, as my cardiac fitness is not what it once was.
I think, Alison, you’ve stumbled across the universal feeling of guilt that everyone has… We’re all born guilty. Booo…
Katie
May 12, 2009
Your appreciation for my gift
comes at a perfect time
Like the cooling of rain
after a seasons drought
Life behind these bars
is hardly ideal
but believe me
I will never let them
these
those
steel
cold
bars
hold me back.
sebastian
May 12, 2009
Dearest beloved convict,
It’s at times like these I wish
You hadn’t become a drug addict.
You speak without reason
You mutter without rhyme
Stuck behind bars for a life of crime
I wander outside now into the rain
I look up at the sky and then to the drain
It’s overflowing with water:
‘If only they hadn’t caught her.’
Its bubbling, its broiling, it reminds me
You were never mundane.
(I don’t actually write poetry, so I’m just winging it… I hope it does you justice!)
Katie
May 12, 2009
My sweet sweet pal
we know each other
only via the pen
the same pen i wish to
gauge my eyes out with
if i have to see one more innocent
put to a shameful death
i have been in here too long
the outside world i have forgot
i have been in here so long in fact
even the bitches are looking hot
(Nor do I write poetry. Freestyle, homie!)
Katie
May 12, 2009
I must
must
must
subscribe
as I don’t want to miss you utter
one of your sweet sweet words.
Jossie Posie
May 12, 2009
I don’t know if you’ll be seeing the corset or not…I haven’t decided.
sebastian
May 12, 2009
You even subscribe poetically,
Alphabetically.
A you’re adorable,
B you’re so beautiful,
C you’re — aw, shit, forget it chick.
Don’t take the mick.
Don’t lead me along with your sweet tongue,
I know you’re into girls
The way you cut off your curls.
Butch.
Katie
May 12, 2009
They made me cut the curls
So I would fit in with the masses.
My life has always been this.
Fitting In.
I never fit in.
I will never fit in.
There is only one place where I fit
And that’s when I’m with you
Beating you over the head with a frying pan.
Tough Love.
Sarcastically Bitter
May 13, 2009
Happy Belated Birthday! You were a cute kid.
Tall Brunette
May 15, 2009
You’re old.
And I haven’t quite figured out if you’re trying to look regal or just miserable in most of your pictures.
That said,
Merry Birthday. Isn’t it comforting to know your parents got it on in the Fall? my sister and I are the only proof that my parents ever had sex.
sebastian
May 15, 2009
I don’t think I had much control over my face muscles in the first photo.
The second I am blatantly quite cheerful!
Third… yes, intentionally frumpy (read the text).
FOURTH… Well, that’s not so miserable, surely? I just don’t like my smile, so I’m never smiling in any posed photos!
pinkjellybaby
May 16, 2009
Happy Birthday Mr Seb:
http://picasaweb.google.co.uk/lh/photo/O7wSsP_npUvTUOzGHWhNIQ?feat=directlink
http://picasaweb.google.co.uk/lh/photo/zckGD_SQa0OTfM1JvFm1hg?feat=directlink
XX
pinkjellybaby
May 16, 2009
And just because I know you’ll like it:
http://picasaweb.google.co.uk/lh/photo/0Oy7fY5YzHASvxYucIZeJw?feat=directlink
and no, I didn’t go to school like that!
sebastian
May 16, 2009
Sweet Jesus.
If this is what my 26th year has in store for me… I can’t wait for my 30th.
pinkjellybaby
May 16, 2009