Friday, August 01, 2008


hello, mortality

Today I accompanied my mom to my nana's doctor appointment. While they waited for the doctor and had the eye exam I sat outside and read a book on a bench.

After I had been sitting for a while, a really old woman — probably in her 80s or 90s — sat down next to me, and her daughter sat down as well, smoking a butt. They were both waiting for MBTA buses, though for different ones, and the daughter's came first, so when she left, it was just me and good ole' Ruth Young. The woman asked me if I liked my book, and I said that it was horrible, and I was only reading it because I'm doing it for a book club, and it's my first meeting, and I don't want to show up and be all "oh, I didn't finish it, this book completely sucked," so I'm powering through.

We chatted a bit about books, then she was silent, and said, "If I can give you one piece of advice: Don't ever get old." I sat there, a bit speechless, then said, "Oh, I'm trying my best!"

My stupid book is depressing, and my nana's definitely entering the back nine, then this. I try to think of old age in rosy and my old husband, sitting on rocking chairs, surrounded by grandkids who are wearing sweaters that I've knitted (or, you know, bought). I don't like to think of it as this time when random girls are giving my backside a push so I can reach my walker, like I did with Ms. Young today.

After watching some TV with my family, my dad asked me if I'd take Seamus for a walk for a final "deposit." I said okay...and plunked out there, a few glasses of wine in me, wearing my glasses...overall not my hottest look. A few doors down the street we run into some kids who are playing Relievio and chilling outside, and they surround my dog, all giving him hugs and letting him kiss them. One little whippersnapper goes, "Oh, you're so old now! When I last saw you you were a teenager" - thinking she was speaking in metaphorical terms to my puppy, I didn't say anything. Then she said, "How old are you?" and I realized that she was talking to me.

I responded, in a winey fog, "Oh, I'm 25. How old are you?" And she said that she's 13.

OKAY. First of all. Call it the self-absorbed haze of being a teen, but I had no idea that she lived on my street back then. To me, there are kids on my street, and they run around and ride bikes, and I have to make sure that I avoid hitting them with a car, but I have no idea who they are, where they live, or how many of them live on my short little street. It's not that I don't care, it's just that our lives never ever eclipse ever.

SECONDLY...did she call me old??! I wanted to shake her little shoulders and be like "Cool old?! Or old like your mom old?!"

Oh the cruel twist that this morning an old woman told me to never grow old, then tonight a little girl called me old.

Book clubs are cool. I'd like to do one someday.
Oh my.

I feel your pain on this one.

My cousin, who is almost 4 years younger than me to the day, constantly calls me old. Every time he sees me in fact. Or leaves me a message on Facebook. He informs me I am his floating definition of old. Whatever age I am at that moment in time is OLD. So at 25, in his eyes, I'm ancient.

God, and 26 is just weeks away.
Being old is kind of annoying my right now. There's this girl on the staff at my college who's really hot, but she's 30 so I am sure she'd never give me, at 22 1/2, a chance. It's a two-year college, so she probably thinks I am 19 or something.
robert: you should see if there's one on craig's list! there are so many book clubs out there. And good luck with the girl!

TC: hahaha his "floating definition of old." what a charmer!
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