Friday, November 6, 2009

Not a girl...

this blog title is dedicated to my roommate roger, who not only will make a joke about me looking like a 12 year old boy, but will also appreciate the brit reference. which i promise the rest of my blog readers i will never make again.

i'm turning 25 in less than a month. yikes. every year i have a tiny anxiety attack about turning older and not accomplishing enough with my life. but this year, i think its real. i mean... 25 sounds old, right? like i should maybe be a grown up?

but more so than sounding old, I'm starting to feel old. which is gross. I'm too tired to do anything after work now. all i ever want to do is put on a pair of sweat pants, drink a glass of wine and complain about the neighbor's dog barking. I now wake up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom. that can't be a good sign. if i eat fatty foods, i gain weight.I don't have a single joint on my body that still works properly. I crave things like spinach and brussel sprouts. I don't understand technology. I still can't use my blackberry and i've had it for 3 months. I tried to 'follow' my friend jon's blog (because he's the bestest and i love him) and it made me pick a different picture for my 'profile'. I thought this was all through google? so why do i have one picture for my gchat, another for this blog and another for following his blog? Also, whats the difference between following a blog, and having it on you 'reader'or 'blogroll'???

old.

on a much more disturbing note, i can no longer do shots of whiskey. In college, i loved doing shots of Jack. I didn't even care if it was warm. I just liked being a bad ass. Now i can't because it hurts my tummy. and i wake up with indigestion. And its hard enough for me to overcome a hangover in my old age as it is.

Other disturbing signs: I get really excited for the pottery barn catalog to come in. I am obsessed with housewares even at places like Family Dollar (the other night while buying my cocoa pebbles... sign of a true grown up... i also considered buying a blender, even though i haven't used or needed to use a blender in about 4 years. I also browsed the placemats, all of which were hideous. oh. and i don't have a kitchen table). I also love looking at office supplies, but always have. Every fall since graduation i get a little depressed that i don't get to go back to school shopping. i don't think that makes me old, but i thought of it, so i typed it.

Most terrifying sign: I'm starting to like pop music. Not just beyonce, who is clearly amazing. But like.. John Mayer, Matchbox 20, Taylor Swift's new song about being fucking 15 years old, That Train song (although in my head the lyrics are adam sandler saying "meestah meestah" instead of the train guy saying 'mister mister'). WHO AM I???? i used to have such good taste in music and hate when sappy shit like that played on the radio. although i genuinely like the meestah meestah part and think the younger hipper version of me would like it too.

At the same time, i don't really feel like i'm "growing up" all that much. i still live in a filthy apartment with 3 boys. we always have beer cans--and usually 40's-- on the end table. By end table, i mean piece of drywall that we've place on a Rubbermaid bin in front of our couch. All of which i absolutely love. not really the filth or the beer cans or the makeshift end table, but the atmosphere.

a majority of my girl friends from high school are engaged, married, mommys... i'm no where near any of that. and don't *think i* want to be.

Professionally, i think i'll always think i should be doing bigger and better. But I can also actually recognize the fact that I'm doing pretty well for myself these days. yay for that.

its a weird middle ground. i'm not sure how i feel about it.

Also around my birthday, and sometimes on random days anytime of year, I think if i'm walking up to somewhere that is abnormally quiet that its going to be my surprise party. Seriously. for as long as i've know that surprise parties exist. and even now that i'm old enough to know that if i walk up to my apartment on July 15th and the dead bolt is locked and no one is making any noise that there is a 99.9% chance that is NOT my surprise party, that .1% still gets me excited.

2 comments:

  1. SURPRISE! This is your surprise birthday party comment!

    ReplyDelete
  2. I love you. Also I'm older than you-I've already hit 25 and have the back of a 98 year old. Oy vey...

    ReplyDelete