Exec Corner: Are we over the hill at 23?
Now, by the title don't get me wrong. I wasn't “that girl”, who, on my 18th birthday was saying, “Oh my gosh, I am over the hill, I'm single, and alone, who will want me now?” And I am still not one of those girls.
Last week was my 23rd birthday. And for starters, people are right. Birthdays are not as fun anymore. I can actually sleep the night before, and until 10am the next day! (Christmas though, is still a completely different story. I'm up at the crack of dawn!) I got all my cards and was told, based on the honour system, to wait until my birthday to open them. And I did. Isn't that horrible? I should have opened them early, like the delinquent child I like to pretend I am. But it was almost like I didn't want to believe it was Feb 27th again. Because inside, don't we all feel 17?
Now like I was saying. It's not me that thinks I am over the hill. It's all these people around me. No wonder the world is addicted to plastic surgery! It's our friends! They push us over the edge! Let's look at a few quick examples.
1. Two weeks ago (when I was still 22) I took my 13 year-old brother to a hockey game. I wasn't even wearing any makeup, and a woman after the game saw us together and told me how great a player my son was. Son. And that is not the first time this has happened to me.
2. This is the second year I have gotten joke birthday cards about getting old. And when I open them, people laugh. Because they made fun of my age. I am scared that next year I will have the flamingoes on the lawn gag.
3. I had the pleasure of speaking with the new Western student president on Saturday. And as a conversation-continuer, I said to him “Wow, so you are 21? Cool, pimping AND drinking all over the world now eh?” And no, he did not just let it die; he said, “Um, I am only 20.” 20? My mom still did my laundry at 20. Honestly! 20? Really?
Well, even though he is still the age we all wish we were, I can't help but think I look great for my “age”. No matter what jokes people make. But it opens up such a can of worms, you know? Having a quarter-life crisis, getting a boob job, erasing those forehead lines. Those statistics are flying up beyond belief.
But I don't know about you, but as long as they keep taking my ID at the LCBO, I'm frankly fabulous just the way I am. And I could so pass for 20.
Last week was my 23rd birthday. And for starters, people are right. Birthdays are not as fun anymore. I can actually sleep the night before, and until 10am the next day! (Christmas though, is still a completely different story. I'm up at the crack of dawn!) I got all my cards and was told, based on the honour system, to wait until my birthday to open them. And I did. Isn't that horrible? I should have opened them early, like the delinquent child I like to pretend I am. But it was almost like I didn't want to believe it was Feb 27th again. Because inside, don't we all feel 17?
Now like I was saying. It's not me that thinks I am over the hill. It's all these people around me. No wonder the world is addicted to plastic surgery! It's our friends! They push us over the edge! Let's look at a few quick examples.
1. Two weeks ago (when I was still 22) I took my 13 year-old brother to a hockey game. I wasn't even wearing any makeup, and a woman after the game saw us together and told me how great a player my son was. Son. And that is not the first time this has happened to me.
2. This is the second year I have gotten joke birthday cards about getting old. And when I open them, people laugh. Because they made fun of my age. I am scared that next year I will have the flamingoes on the lawn gag.
3. I had the pleasure of speaking with the new Western student president on Saturday. And as a conversation-continuer, I said to him “Wow, so you are 21? Cool, pimping AND drinking all over the world now eh?” And no, he did not just let it die; he said, “Um, I am only 20.” 20? My mom still did my laundry at 20. Honestly! 20? Really?
Well, even though he is still the age we all wish we were, I can't help but think I look great for my “age”. No matter what jokes people make. But it opens up such a can of worms, you know? Having a quarter-life crisis, getting a boob job, erasing those forehead lines. Those statistics are flying up beyond belief.
But I don't know about you, but as long as they keep taking my ID at the LCBO, I'm frankly fabulous just the way I am. And I could so pass for 20.
