So Very Old (yet so very young...)

My date of entrance to this world (i.e. my birthday) is drawing near with great rapidity. Each year it seems to creep up on me just a little more quickly. When I was four, an hour was incredibly long, and a year- unfathomable. At fourteen, an hour trotted by fairly quickly, while a year ambled around leisurely. But now that I'm reaching twenty-four, an hour is a cramped, overly-short period of time, and the year spins around so quickly I get dizzy. (No wonder the elderly have vertigo... I will too if time keeps speeding up at this rate.)

But as this birthday draws near, I am struck by two opposing thoughts.

I am old.

I pay bills, and I walk around turning off lights that were left on in the bathrooms. While shaving my legs in the shower, I occasionally miss the little part behind my ankle because I don't want to use the time (aka- hot water) that it would take to check the ankles thoroughly. I go to the beach and am content to sit in the sun and doze an entire day. My idea of an exciting Saturday is getting the oil changed in my car (such a good feeling!). When buying an outfit, I wonder how well it will wash, and after an intense workout, I hurt, hurt, hurt the next couple of days.

But I am also so very young.

I still am completely incapable of grasping innuendos, and jokes still have to be explained to me. I didn't know that you have to call to set up your utilities BEFORE you move in (yay, for living without water for 3 days!). I cry in Disney movies, and I still have a little stuffed dog from my daddy sitting on my bed (I love "Ferguson.") My idea of a bad day is when my socks don't match and my hair won't stay straight (or curl- whichever...).

I look at people around me who have done so much at my age- written books, gotten married, had babies, started TV shows, travelled the world, become gourmet cooks, and back-packed across Europe. And I think, "Gee, I'm lucky if I do a load of laundry and make myself a dinner of Mac 'n' Cheese after a day of staring at people's esophaguses."

I guess what I'm saying is- I'm a slow grower. Right now I'm more twelve than twenty-four. Other people can go and do those great things, make those massive commitments, polish those wonderful skills, but I'm not there yet. I'm impressed by such people. I'm awed by them. Often I want to be them. But I'm not ready for that.

I take a little step back and get excited...

There's so much to do! I'm going to live in a big city, travel to Asia, bungee-jump, and do book-signings in cities across the U.S. of A. There will come a day when paying bills will be easier, and when the cable company will be awed by my poise and firmness while dealing with them. Perhaps someday I'll make that really big commitment ("marriage"), and have a bunch of mini-me's running around. But right now, I'm very, truly happy.

So I guess what I'm saying is...

I'm perfectly okay with feeling half my age. Because that means when I'm fifty-

I'll party like I'm twenty-five!

BRING IT ON!
(That's the young me speaking...)