J. Day Countdown, Day 1: Staying Out of the 27 Club

We're only a day away from J.Day now, kids, which means today is my last day to be 27. It's kind of a bittersweet realization.

27, you know, technically places a person in their late-20s, but at least it still has a nice ring to it. 27. "I'm 27." "I can't marry you, baby. I'm only 27. I've still got things to do." "Can you believe he managed to do this when he was only 27?" As of tomorrow, though, I'll be 28, which means I'll move out of my "late 20s" and enter a new category - "almost thirty." I can feel that mid-life crisis coming on strong.

Still, I guess it could be worse. Getting older might be a pisser, but - provided I don't overdose on drugs or kill myself today - at least I didn't join the Forever 27 Club (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Forever_27)

This is maybe the most revealing thing you'll ever hear me say, dear readers, so listen closely: the thought of dying doesn't bother me. But the thought of dying without having achieved some kind of fame is my greatest fear. Don't get me wrong - I don't have any desire to be a rock star or win an Academy Award or anything like that. What I'm talking about is cult fame. I'd rather be Chuck Palahniuk than John Grisham. I'd rather be Woody Allen than Steven Spielberg. You get what I'm saying...Yes, I'm following the advice of the beautiful and talented Amy Sedaris (another person whose fame is similar to what I'd like to achieve): "If you're gonna reach for a star, just make sure you reach for the lowest one."

But anyway, it's all about staying alive today, kids. If I can make it to 28, I can make it all the way. Wish me luck, and please don't offer me any hard drugs today.

We're only a day away.