My brother pointed out that since I was born in the USA, yesterday was technically my birthday as well. Nothing to do but celebrate again, right? Had a large group of friends and co-workers out at Shenanigans. It seems everyone insisted on buying me a birthday shot. I normally stick to beer for a reason, and last night proved to be a reminder of why.
I stumbled out of the bar and meandered my way to the subway. Successfully managed the transfer to Line #4 and promptly passed out. I was awakened by the announcement that the subway had reached it’s final destination–Dangoggae. That’s about 5 stops past Gireum. I had to pay again to catch the ride back to where I was supposed to be. While waiting for my train I sneezed which caused a shart. It was not pretty!
Oh well. I probably had fun, I just don’t remember.
On the ride to work Friday morning I scored a seat in the old folks section. No guilt, age has its privileges.
“Blessed is he who sharts in the name of righteousness.”
—Matthew 5:25
Ah, so it was a biblical event…
Religious historian Mircea Eliade called the holy an eruption of the sacred into the realm of the profane—with definite emphasis on eruption.
So, yes, I think we can safely classify this as a miracle in the biblical sense: it was a life-affecting event during which something appeared that hadn’t been there before. Hallelujah!
Still, it was a shitty experience.