On 27 November 1968, Michael Vartan was born. Exactly nineteen years later, so was I. And the similarities don't stop there: we both speak French, we're both ridiculously good looking, and we've both slept with Jennifer Garner on at least two non-consecutive occasions.
From ages 1 to 4, I would stand in my cot and demand "Who's in the kitchen?", read to my dog, and climb suitcases, which, as an 18-month-old, is an astounding achievement.
I survived my childhood relatively unscathed, never being bitten by a dog/bee/vicious cow or breaking a bone. The years of primary school were a drug-addled blur. Not for me personally, but those kids taking ADD pills could tell you all about that.
High school passed in a fast six years. That's right. From 2000 to 2005, the Earth's rotation around the sun was in fact accelerated due to Venus' gravitational pull. I pwn science.
Highlights at high school included numerous band tours far and wide, Andrew "Stormin' Norman" Harvey on geog camp, the Chorals, and many other things I've forgotten, just a sign of how highlight-worthy they are.
This year would be my second year at university if not for the fact that I am deferring. In September/October I'll be touring Europe for 4-odd weeks, and a month later leave behind my teenage-ness forever. Oh, excitement. Old people will stop glaring at me in the street, train inspectors will no longer victimise me, and I won't be regarded as a stalker when walking behind middle-aged men after 11pm. Yeah, right.
