6 November 2011
I like to think of myself as young and young at heart. I have examples and everything! Last night, I walked over to my neighbor’s apartment and together we watched a couple of episodes of My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic and Jem and the Holograms. Sure, these are cartoons aimed at 5-7 year olds and we are both 34, but that’s youthful! And then, at midnight, we decided to go over to another friend’s house. And then I had 2 glasses of wine! (Note: my friend did not—she was driving. We are youthful, but responsible.) Drinking (which is totally fine because I am over 21)! 12am shenanigans! And by shenanigans I mean we talked very loudly and watched a bunch of episodes of Parks and Recreation--but it was very late at night, That’s very college student-esque!
I’m providing you with these examples of my youthfulness because I am convinced that a crochetedy old woman lives inside of my head.
Example 1: I see some of the clothes teenagers and young college students wear and I think they look inappropriate. For example, a few weeks, I was teaching class, and one of my students walked in, wearing a skin tight mini-skirt with a loose fitting top that fell over her shoulder to reveal her bra strap. Now, she did look cute, but it’s class, not Friday night. Every time she got up, every straight boy in my classroom was ogling her. In another class, a male student came to class wearing pajama pants that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. Last year, I had a student who wore a skirt so short to class that she had to put a coat over her lap to cover everything up. 10 years ago, I did not have these issues. I don’t really remember noticing what my students wore to class. I thought tight, midriff baring tops were totally cute. I was all about low-rise jeans (well, I still am actually).
Example 2: I live near two sports stadiums. I am not a sports person, so I could really care less about all of this sports hoopla. Most of the time living near these two stadiums not bad, but when there’s a game, the helicopters drive me insane. They’re constantly flying overhead. This morning the non-dulcet tones of an incredibly drone-y helicopter woke me up at 8am. It’s 8am helicopter people! The game doesn’t start until 7pm! Of course, the helicopters will be equally annoying at 7pm.
Example 3: Apparently, it is my destiny to have neighbors who enjoy playing their music loudly at all hours of the night. I teach at 8am, so I have to go to bed pretty early. But I feel bad about asking someone to turn their music down at 9:30. It’s not like it’s midnight, it’s 9:30—that’s not particularly late. And also, I’m going to bed at 9:30pm. 9:30!?! The 10 years ago me would have scoffed at going to bed so early.
Now I don’t particularly want to be 10 years ago me ever again. It was a wretched time in my life. But I was in my early 20s then—I was really young then. I’m still young now, but slightly less so. And I feel more alive and confident and vibrant and youthful and happy at 34 than I did at 24. So, if this is the case, why has a crotchedy old lady come to live in my head? I am not old!
(And I didn't blog yesterday. Boo to me. But I was out being youthful and stuff! And doing laundry.)