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March 25, 2006
Old as the hills...but not quite yet
It's Friday night. I'm home. Rafe's in Vegas for a bachelor party and I'm taking care of much-needed business like finishing my taxes and shopping for a miracle dress that will take me through three weddings and a graduation ceremony this summer. I've been so busy and all over the place lately, so now I'm hunkering down and trying to get everything in order....Laura's baby shower is Sunday, too, and I'm hosting it. I think I have everything under control but I'm still not a 100% sure if it's safe for pregnant women to do the limbo? We'll see...
So today at work, I had to figure out how the hell we were going to rent the following for a re-enactment scene: a grizzly bear and four bear cubs, five wolves, and two foxes (not all in the same scene, of course, for that would be stupid!). So far I found out that a grizzly will run you about $3,000 a day, a bargain compared to the snow leopard at $7,500! Guess how much a badger costs? $750. How about a skunk, you're wondering? $250. Everyday I am learning.
On Wednesday, I went out with my fellow Honduran Jew (and now suspected cousin) Leif. That boy is a burning ball of energy and, since we hadn't really seen each other in a few years, we seemed to have endless things to talk about...like how when I opened up my O Magazine (do I talk a lot about Oprah? Yes? Well, this time it's relevant!) the other night and there was a photo of his face taking up the entire page and how ridiculously random that was. He thought only his mom's friends would happen upon it. And I thought, what the hell are you doing in my O? He was featured in a photo spread about multicultral people (apparently, a brand-new phenomenon) and was representing the Honduran-Jewish combination. In light of my upcoming trip, I've been thinking a lot about cultural identities and familial ties and so it was really interesting to discuss some of these issues. We were out literally all night, and just when I thought it couldn't get any later nor I any drunker, we hopped into a cab to APT. He seemed to know everyone there (as in, everyone from the dishwashers to the bouncers to the bartenders) so naturally we had many more drinks because, well, they were free. I was amazed how people were still out so late, with seemingly nary a care in the world. On a Wednesday- can you imagine? Perhaps you can, but it was as though I forgot this this whole world of nightlife even existed. It was refreshing, actually, and it reminded me that even though I am turning 25, I'm still young! I can still party! Even on a Wednesday! Sort of. When I got home and a few hours later my alarm clock went off, I was still so messed up I physically couldn't get up. So I was, as Laura would say, "being courageous" like so many times during college: I picked up the phone, called in sick and spent the rest of the day lounging around. I was rebelling against the Man and against getting older, I suppose...and trying not to over-think every goddamn little thing. Speaking of which....
I'm not sure how I feel about turning 25. At dinner the other night, the waiter presented a salad to me and said, "you know, this balsamic vinegar is very aged. It's a twenty-five year old." And then he emphasized again, that it was "very aged." And for a moment, I felt very sad, for I was as old as the vinegar. But I'm trying to get away from feeling like age means something, like there is a barometer of accomplishment that necessarily corresponds to how many years you got on you. It's just not true. We are each following our own unique paths. Life's not a race- it's a journey. And, um, age is nothing but a number? And... It matters how old you feel not how old you are? Are these things true? Who said that? And what was I just saying?
photo of smith street by vincent, stolen off his flickr account. thanks.
Posted by debbie at March 25, 2006 4:29 PM