Ye Olde Matron

The other day I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror at my office and realized, for the first first time, "My gosh! I look my age!"

I know, this sounds silly.

But I am 5 feet tall. I have always been told I looked young for my age. And I hated hearing it every.single.time. Mostly because I had to agree that those people were right.

I am not sure if it is the silver threading itself through my hair. Or the wrinkles slowly creeping out from my eyes and above my nose. Or the look of resignation in my eyes. Or the semi-permanent smudges that reside beneath them.

The realization that I would very likely NOT be carded should I attempt to buy a drink at a bar was shocking. Considering it has been more than a decade since I dragged the Hoos and his roommate, poor Kurt, out to the Red Lion at midnight to celebrate my 21st, I guess it was inevitable.

Now I just have to convince the Hoos that we should go out to a bar and buy drinks.

Now, Where Was I?

Back to the post about all of the interesting things I did before kids...

Today the girls and I met the Hoos for lunch and we ran into a friend from college at the diner. While it was very nice to see her and catch up, it felt like it must be impossible that we graduated at the same time.

When she asked us if we had any plans for New Years we just sort of gestured at the girls and shrugged, "Not really."

Maybe it doesn't sound so bad reading it, but it just really made us feel old. And we aren't old. And it isn't like we had kids early. We were both about to turn 30 when we had LP.

The reality is, we are just on different paths from our school mate. Maybe it is because she is single or maybe it is because we have kids or maybe we just have different priorities. We have plenty of other friends who are married with kids. But, for some reason we forget about those folks and instead wonder instead what people who aren't traveling in our same direction think about us. It is not like we were ever partiers or ones to go out to bars on New Years (or ever really, well, maybe if a good band was playing and I had slept late that day). But still...

We've Come a Long Way, Baby

The other day the Hoos was reminding me how - what's the word? - "itchy" I was in college. My parents would probably argue that my itchiness started well before college, so let's call it a draw with me admitting that a good word to describe me would have been "itchy".

One of the Hoos' first recollections of me was in our freshman English lit class saying to the professor, "Buck, this book sucked." His name was Buck, I wasn't being rude, just itchy. We didn't start dating until our sophomore year, so I am not sure if he temporarily forgot my itchiness or if he decided that I looked good enough in my t-shirt dresses that it didn't matter.

In a few weekends, GWU will be holding our 10 year reunion. This got me thinking about how I changed in college and in the years since. Maybe I am wrong, but I don't think many people would describe me as itchy nowadays. I might have my itchy moments, and I am certainly opinionated, and I will roll my eyes on occasion (okay, frequently, but those people deserve it), but I don't think itchy would be one of the first words to come to mind for those that are close to me now.

I don't know if motherhood has mellowed me or if age did it first. I am surprisingly patient with my children and I have learned how to keep my snark in check for when it is appropriate. Maybe that is really what itchiness is? Open snarkiness bordering on rude? Is itchiness a function of age? You are itchy until you know better? Thoughts?

Minimum Qualifications

After some recent interactions with unpleasant people, I have decided that there needs to be some criteria that people need to meet, consistently, in order to be considered adults:

1. Look people in the eye when having a conversation.
2. Accept responsibility when you are at fault, and even occasionally when you aren't.
3. Treat everyone with respect even if they don't deserve it.
   
4. Acknowledge other contributors in your life (personal and professional).
5. Channel your excess energy into positive activities. (Note "consistently" is not the same as "always")
   
6. Take it if you dish it. I am all about the quick comeback, but if you can't accept someone returning a smart retort, keep your trap shut.
7. Learn to make at least one meal. Even mac and cheese from a box. I once had a roommate that would measure the amount of water for boiling the mac according to the instructions on the box. Even so, at least after 10 minutes she had a meal.
8. Leave it on your plate, even if you don't want it - literally and figuratively. LP is the queen of throwing food that she doesn't want on the floor or at me. Even so, with some of the hot potato passing going on in my office, it is a wonder I don't come home looking like a high school food fight survivor on a daily basis.
   
9. Show some love. A little patience and understand can go a long way sometimes.
   
10. Keep it in your pants. Don't show too much love. Everyone doesn't need to see your goods. Yes, sometimes you need to vent, and as an exception world-wide sharing may be cathartic. But, really, having a few special friends is cool; showing your goods to the entire school, not only whorish, but sad.

This is only the beginning. Whatcha got to add, blog readers?

Look Out for the Flying Old Lady!

I spent yesterday in Columbus, OH. Literally, just the day: a car whisked me to the airport at 5:45am and returned me home at 10pm. In between were meetings and airport challenges. Oh, and a fun experience that made me feel like I was over the hill.

Because of issues at LaGuardia airport, I ended up flying home a a puddle jumper. It was a teeny, tiny plane. As I sat down I turned to my seat mate and commented, "Wow, I am relatively small and I feel uncomfortable." She responded, "I am 12, I am just big for my age." Okay, not exactly relevant, but definitely true. She was twice my size. Turns out she was flying to New York to meet her dad for the first time.

A really nice, sweet girl, we talked most of the flight. She told me she was a seventh grader and I asked what books she was reading in English class (I have an 18-month old, I am not used to talking to more mature children, what can I say?). I then told her that we read "The Outsiders" and "Johnny Tremain" when I was in 7th grade. She looked at me blankly. "I guess it was a while ago, I was in 7th grade in 1988." Her response was that she was BORN in 1995.

In case that didn't make me feel like an old fogey, she went on to tell me that her parents were YOUNGER than me. I felt nauseous. And it had nothing to do with being pregnant or on an uncomfortable flight.

Who You Calling 'Junior'?!

This morning LP and I went to the mall to buy Chanukah presents for some of her cousins. Wanting to be the "cool, hip Aunt" we went to the Macy's Juniors Department to get a present for my 11-year old niece. I figured Juniors was like a mental and physical step up from the girl's department.

Now, it has been a while since I shopped in the Juniors Department, but I shop at Gap and Old Navy, I figured I had a general idea of what clothing would be on sale there...boy was I wrong.

LP and I had to circle the entire department twice until I could comprehend that we were even in the right place. I felt like a martian. The picture to the right is an actual "sweater" taken from the Macys Juniors Department web site.

The clothes fell into a few main categories: really sophisticated looking (fur collars? sequins? SHE IS IN 5th GRADE), really...ummm... "hoey" (cut down to the navel? SHE IS IN 5th GRADE), or just plain bizarre (those hooded sweaters that double as a cape or something.). Is this really what teenage girls wear?

I found one shirt and a few decorated sweatshirts that I would even consider buying my gorgeous little niece. It is mind boggling to me that I was actually even IN the Juniors department. I though that the average age of a Junior Department shopper would be 12-16. Has the Juniors Department become the place to shop for women in their twenties who think they have the body of a 14 year old? Am I a prude or an old fogey?

Old Lady

Last night was the first session of my Financial Management course. And boy, do I feel old.

Contributing Factor 1: It has been about a year and a half since I attended class in person. In the 16 months since I last visited the UCONN-Stamford campus, it seems that everyone I knew graduated. I did not recognize a single person in my classroom. And the average age of the students appeared to be about 25.

Contributing Factor 2: Class is held from 7-10pm. To sit rapt and pay attention at the end of the day is difficult for anyone; I feel especially at a disadvantage after having spent the day running around (and thoroughly enjoying it!) after LP. Typically by 10 o'clock I am dragging myself up the stairs in our house to get ready for bed. I didn't even get home until close to 10:30 last night. And without time to really talk to the Hoos or wind down, I had a really difficult time falling asleep.

Contributing Factor 3: Last night the MBA program had pizza and soda available during the break. The pizza was cold by the time my class got its break (our professor apparently likes to talk) and it looked completely unappetizing. I used to eat pizza at 11 in the morning that had been ordered the night before. Our group was also being used to test a new drink, The Switch, which is 100% carbonated fruit juice. My only question for the poor woman standing there handing it out was "Does it have caffeine? Because it is way too late for me to have caffeine."

All of these factors, coupled with the dreary weather, definitely has me feeling my age. Which, as of today, is officially thirty-one.