Today is my birthday. 4 more years until I hit 30. 24 more years until I hit 50. It's weird how time works and how incredibly fast time flies. The birthdays I remember is back home in the suburbs of northern Chicago, in the brutal summer haze of humidity. Every morning on my birthday, my room would be filled with balloons and I would wake up in a sweat, even though my bedroom fan is running and my window is open with summer breeze whisking in. I roll out of bed and head downstairs, seeing my parents and my sister hustling and bustling around in the kitchen making breakfast (my favorite). Dad would master the flip of the pancake so perfectly you would think it's a plastic pancake for display. Mom would flip the bacon with grease splattering on her piggy apron she has on. My sister would be either watching cartoons or help setting up the table. My two dogs, Buster (died in 9/3/14) and Spike would be wagging their tails to greet me. Breakfast would be rea...