One thing about taking public transportation is that at times you can’t help but listen to other people. (Unless in the case of Metra’s quiet car, then it’s just funny to watch people freak out at any sort of noise.) This is especially the case when they are right near me, loud and have a slight twinge of valley girl in their voice. It’s like some sort of beeping alert. No matter how hard I try my ears still catch it.
I usually block them out for the most part since I have yet to either buy a new ipod or load music into the
crackBlackberry but this time I couldn’t. It was two, possibly three but two voices were distinct, 20 something women talking about age. Been there. Don’t that. Didn’t buy the tshirt since it was overpriced.
I was just about to seriously ignore them until I heard the standard blabbering about 30 going downhill. At first I thought they meant kids since they had just been talking about a friend who was pregnant. Ok, so that is medically said at times – though I don’t know all the details. THEN it flat out became a discussion of age. One of them was 23 and was talking about how 24/25/26 was when you are starting to get old.
I didn’t say anything since I didn’t want to be like the wacko yelling at the kids. (BTW I did see him recently and had to use all my self control not to start laughing at him and making kissy noises.) I shook my head, mentioned the conversation to a few friends, and started mental notes on this post.
When I was about to turn 30 I had a number of people who asked me if I was freaking out about it. Um, no and honestly being 30 isn’t any much different than being 29 IMO. (It actually made it extremely more difficult for Darth Husband to pull off a surprise party as well. He did though and it was lovely.) It just makes me go twen-thirty sometimes if asked my age but in general that is a rare case. I recently read an article about Sarah Michelle Geller who commented on her 30s being when she really found herself/got in a good place/insert random cliche comment here.
I do agree though. When I was in my early twenties, I didn’t have a lot of stuff settled. I am not saying that there aren’t any women pre-25 that have their shit (yeah I swore, sheet or stuff just didn’t work righ) together since I know quite a few who have. I was finishing school, bouncing from relationship dud to moron and back, and just figuring out what I wanted to do in my life. While there was a lot that I did know, there was a lot that scared me. I had a plan but didn’t know what elements of that plan would work.
Add several years, lots of trial and error, decisions not to buy the Vespa and the condo on the Northside of Chicago, getting fed up with dating and you have my late 20s. That is when, for me, things started making more sense and falling into place.
What really bugs me is this view that turning a certain ages means all doom and gloom. Cue the thunder! Cue the lightning! Someone has gotten a year OLDER! I am not anti humor about birthdays but I am anti panic attacks. I know people who had serious issues with turning 25. Quarter life crisis is a term that is actually used now. Like 30, 25 was another of those “oh, ok yeaahhhh” ages.
I think life should be celebrated. It doesn’t need to be a party style celebration but celebration in a terms of appreciation for the lack of a better word. There is that saying, crude as it may seem to some people, “You either get old or you’re dead.” I know a lot of people who have left this earth way too early would work gladly take that extra year or years.
Have you or someone you know freaked out about turning a certain age? Are you like me and think it’s not that big of a deal?