It's official. Twenty-three doesn't feel any different from twenty-two.

Frankly, Christafans, I think it should feel different. Every year of life should feel different somehow. If you have a craptacular year, your birthday should herald a year of spiffmojo. If you have a terrific year, well, maybe your birthday should hint at a mediocre type of year. In a fair(er) world, birthdays should balance out. That way, everyone would be assured an equal amount of spiffmojo and crap.

However, this ain't a fair world. I know. I've checked. I've also seen Labyrinth a few times, and in it David Bowie clearly warns us more muppety-minded girls against the "It's not FAIR!" mentality. (Actually he says, "You say that so often; I wonder what your basis for comparison is." He also rules over goblins, carries a riding crop, and gives out peach-flavored LSD.) We live in a world where the greater part of one's best friends and best acquaintances can actually forget one's twenty-third birthday. But does it really matter? Not if twenty-three winds up being the same as twenty-two.

So is that it, Christafans? Are we all doomed to suffer some dry, monotonous expanse of twentysomethings and thirtysomethings and fortysomethings oh my? And when we turn actual decade ages like thirty, forty, or fifty, is the monotony only to be broken by being made fun of for being old, moldy, or past our time? And if not now, exactly when is our time? Twenty-four, perhaps?

I guess it's just not fair. Sometimes, I wish those Labyrinth-type Bowie goblins would take me away RIGHT N--

Can we just get over this boys against girls nonsense?

We used to play games like that back in elementary school. Boys versus girls. As far as I can recall (which is less and less these days, given my advanced and worldly age), it always used to bother me more than it probably should have whenever the boys won. Even then, I thought those cootie-laden fellows should have lost. At least a little. By rights, even. Because, well, even then I saw that the boys usually seem to win. They don't have babies, are never referred to as old maids, and they aren't forever shadowed by the stigma -- or depending how deeply you think on it, stigmata -- of beauty. Boys are rarely told or media-subliminalized to be beautiful. Instead they get "be successful." Or maybe "sleep with a lot of women, even when there is clearly an AIDS crisis going on." What do girls win? Labor pains. The vote, but not the ERA. "No fat chicks" on bumper stickers. Even as a child, I found these things rather offensive. And also yucky. So was it asking too much for us girls to win at handball? Or do better on SAT tests? (But hey, I owned that Verbal SAT II. I only missed five. Kiss it, college apps.)

And don't even get me started on boy cartoons versus girl cartoons. Sure, Liono was a thundering cat and The Superfriends were super, but even today boy cartoons often exist in a world where females rarely appear at all, are mere secondary characters, or are only subjects for rescuing and immediate leaving. Wonder Woman was great with her invisible plane and all, but she was hardly personable. Boy did that amazon ever need a good laugh. The old XMEN cartoon did far better by their female characters -- that is, if you didn't count Storm. (Storm and Wonder Woman: the SAME? Stay tuned!) Girl cartoons, on the other hand, were usually focused on pretty little things like ponies or magical rainbow girls. Which were great in their own way, but why not have a little ass-kicking too? Seems like girl cartoons of today contain a lot more ass-kicking, but they're still full of pretty little things. And crushes on boys, who are often integral to the plot. Fairness? Bah!

In the end, though, I say let's have less boys versus girls and more boys and girls ... together. Fighting crime together. You see? There is no problem which could not be solved if people would simply do as I advise. That's a quote from someone else, but I think I'll just forgo the source in the spirit of togetherness. Oh, and 60 is new.