It's official: Today I'm 25. This is the start of a week-long one-third life crisis, during which I will experience fits of crying, then laughing, then crying again. At one point, I will buy a Porsche and crash it into a ravine. Then I'll go back to my high school and wear clothes that are too small and pretend that I'm still seventeen, and that I don't have to go to work every day and be responsible, and I'll talk about how it's so great to be young and how we'll be young forever.