A Year (And Change) Older

August 21, 2010 at 11:48 PM (Happenings, Musings) (, , )

My birthday was earlier this week, and I am pleased to announce that no one sang that horrendous song to me in public (that’s not to say people didn’t try, though).  That said, it was a wonderful few days of celebration – except the part where the Red Sox got their rear ends handed to them.  By Toronto.  Really, guys?

A lady never discloses her age, but I will say I’ve re-entered the realm of prime numbers as a twenty-something.  That said, when several of my elder friends have celebrated this same year, I heard one particular complaint many a time: “Oh my God: I’m so old!

. . . Seriously?  In your twenties, you’re complaining about being old?  In an age when when we’re finishing school, getting married, settling down and starting families later and later in lives, we feel old in our twenties?  When we typically have a solid 60 years remaining?  Where was I for this?

After hearing this for the third or fourth time, I swore to myself that when my same birthday rolled around, I would not consider myself old, and suffice to say, I succeeded.  As a college graduate still running the internship gamut, still moving at least once a year and still unsure of where or what I’ll be in the next five years, the absolute last word I would use to describe myself would be “old.”  Village elders, you’ll have to excuse me: this whipper-snapper still has some self-discovery to accomplish.

Tonight’s Tunes
“Mr. Jones,” Counting Crows
“Black Balloon,” Goo Goo Dolls
“Push (Acoustic),” Matchbox 20

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