Should I stay or should I go now? (Raise your hand if you have that song in your head.)

Next weekend's the big weekend. Yup. The big twentysomething-er turns another twentysomething year older. One could make an effective argument about it not really being that big of a deal. I wouldn't. I love birthdays, almost as much as I love the holidays, snow and macaroni.

But, unlike years past, I don't know what I'm going to do. I have no plans. I'm living like a rockstar, and I'm the least rockstar-esque person I know.

I like plans. I like to know what I'll be doing at work the next day, week, month. I like to know what I'll be wearing the next day before I go to bed. I like to know what I'll be eating at a restaurant before I even go. Choices and indecision are overwhelming, sometimes. Jan. 13 is turning out to be a little overwhelming. Yes, it's a Friday and I have to work, but I usually drag the birthday out a day or two, or week, as was the case last year. Birthweek. Ha. Work's not the problem. It's that weekend that has a big question mark on it. I don't like a whole lot of question marks.

A few friends talked about coming here from Toledo, but that's not for sure. Two of my favorite Toledo bands are playing -- in Toledo. Mom makes good cake. In Ohio. But so does the fiance. In Wisconsin. I just don't know what I want to do. If I had a jet, this would be so much easier. Should I stay? Should I go?

My stepdad says birthdays aren't a big deal. That when you're an adult, stuff still needs to get done, and there's no cake or presents or balloons. By that philosophy, I'm doing just fine. He may be right about a lot of things, but I don't think this is one of them. I'll get done what needs to be finished. But then it's me time.

I'm old enough to not want balloons, but I'm young enough to want a big to-do. Or a smallish to-do. Or at least no question marks. Something. Anything.