Saturday, July 16, 2005
Turning 30...
Tonight, I have a birthday party to go to--not a 3oth Birthday, but actually a 31st. So here I am, in the post-turning 30 zone. About a year ago I went to about five thirtieth birthday parties, or should I call them, "organized anxiety attacks in drunken stupors." There was a range of reactions: one of my friends sent out invitations in Black and Silver as if it were a grand gala. The party was at this very funkified hall, with a hundred + guests, a freaking comedian, for Christ’s sake, and all other kinds of crap. Then he and his wife got so shitfaced they couldn't even make it to a cab.
And for this party I missed a Violent Femmes concert at Irving Plaza, which I'm still pissed about, because they won't come back to NYC. Gordon Gano come back! It's ok, I'll get to see them plenty out in Cali.
To continue:
At another party, we sat in a bar on the Upper East Side and pretended we were all twenty-two. But no one was fooled, especially the real twenty-two years olds in the bar who watched us like a Discovery channel special.
At another we played Jenga. No need to make a sarcastic comment about that.
I'm turning 29 at the end of the month. This doesn't bother me, and I don't usually think on it, because I feel so damn young. But here is a list of the very terrifying moments I've had that made me realize my age:
1) I've been noticing people out with their kids- like a mom and their teenage son or daughter. And my whole life, whenever I saw a parent and their kids, I've always identified with the kids: the parents were old, I mean they were old. But now, I'm realizing that I look more like the parents than the kids. The kids look so young. I'm shocked. I realize, "Hey, that guy, who looks like he's my age, has kids."
2) The first time I realized I was getting older, this happened when I was about 25: I was playing handball, and some teenagers were playing on the court next to me. Their ball came onto my court, and as I got it for a young, pretty Hispanic girl, and started to smile in my friendly, flirty manner, see smiled back, and sweetly said, "Thanks, sir."
3) Sitting in back seat of my best friends car, whom I've known since I was two. He put on the interior light which shown on his face, and I unexpectedly saw the network of veins in his face. He was old. It's moments like this, where you see people differently from the mental image of them you keep in your head. It's a good reason to get rid of your old friends and get new ones--to avoid the horror of these moments of realization.
Please relay your own moments, I’d love to hear ‘em.
And for this party I missed a Violent Femmes concert at Irving Plaza, which I'm still pissed about, because they won't come back to NYC. Gordon Gano come back! It's ok, I'll get to see them plenty out in Cali.
To continue:
At another party, we sat in a bar on the Upper East Side and pretended we were all twenty-two. But no one was fooled, especially the real twenty-two years olds in the bar who watched us like a Discovery channel special.
At another we played Jenga. No need to make a sarcastic comment about that.
I'm turning 29 at the end of the month. This doesn't bother me, and I don't usually think on it, because I feel so damn young. But here is a list of the very terrifying moments I've had that made me realize my age:
1) I've been noticing people out with their kids- like a mom and their teenage son or daughter. And my whole life, whenever I saw a parent and their kids, I've always identified with the kids: the parents were old, I mean they were old. But now, I'm realizing that I look more like the parents than the kids. The kids look so young. I'm shocked. I realize, "Hey, that guy, who looks like he's my age, has kids."
2) The first time I realized I was getting older, this happened when I was about 25: I was playing handball, and some teenagers were playing on the court next to me. Their ball came onto my court, and as I got it for a young, pretty Hispanic girl, and started to smile in my friendly, flirty manner, see smiled back, and sweetly said, "Thanks, sir."
3) Sitting in back seat of my best friends car, whom I've known since I was two. He put on the interior light which shown on his face, and I unexpectedly saw the network of veins in his face. He was old. It's moments like this, where you see people differently from the mental image of them you keep in your head. It's a good reason to get rid of your old friends and get new ones--to avoid the horror of these moments of realization.
Please relay your own moments, I’d love to hear ‘em.
