There’s really no denying it, I am definitely getting older. Tomorrow I will be turning *gulp* 29 (subtle hint–>wishlist), and in actuality I’m really rather ambivalent about it.
That’s not true.
I’m really really fairly confused about the whole thing. Well, not confused, per se, I understand the process of aging and how that whole “how old are you?” thing translates into years of said age… more I wonder how my perceptions can be so different from everyone else’s.
Meaning, that I don’t feel older; and in fact feel inwardly child-like a majority of the time, and am always waiting for some “adult” to run up to me and scream, “What art thou doing, nigh? A mere child!” (perhaps they wouldn’t scream at me quite so Shakespearian-ish).
However, when I go into Subway and stand next to the 16 year old girl that looks like she’s 24, and her 16 year old boyfriend who looks like he’s… 16, I realize that I am old(er), have nothing in common with these that are truly young, and am barely even visible on their age-centric radar. But I still feel cool… which is where the pathetic aspects of my older self most likely start to seep in. Though I am, mercifully, blind to them.
In summary: birthday tomorrow.