Tuesday, May 6, 2008

When did I become the Old person in the room?

The day has arrived. Last night, I actually reached a point where, for a split second, I contemplated LYING about my age. I've had this affinity for punk rock since the 9th grade (and I'm not talking the cool acceptable kind for those my age, like The Ramones, but more along the lines of Blink-182 and Fall Out Boy.) Anyway, last night, I went to a Taking Back Sunday show in Long Island. I. Was. Psyched. They were playing a secret show at a small venue in preparation for their sold-out gig with My Chemical Romance at MSG later this week. There's nothing like seeing one of your favorites in an intimate setting. So after two hours of driving, I arrive with my friend Maddie only to find that we are surrounded by 15 year olds. I was cool with it at first. I got a wristband that proved I was of legal drinking age and began eye-balling anyone else wearing a wristband. Score! I start chatting up a guy named Scott and make a joke about probably being the oldest people there. He asks how old I am, I say 26. He does a double take, doesn't believe me. I don't know if it's because I'm at a TBS show or because I'm lacking the sultry older-woman voice. So I show him my Missouri driver's license, and he whips out his. Born in 1985. "I'm almost 23!" he blurts out. Nice.  I spot three other wristband-wearing males. Maddie and I bum cigs (I'm a social smoker), they demand we introduce ourselves. Again, I make a joke about not being 16. These guys? All 24. I spot a KC Royals hat in the distance. I get excited and go up to ask the guy if he's from Kansas City...until I get a good look at his face. Not a day over 15. At this point, TBS hit the stage, and I lost myself in the crowd of moshing, jumping, crazy, screaming kids. And I knew every word.

Don't get me wrong, I know I'm not Old old. Just Adult old. Lump-Me-With-The-Parents old. They say that adolescence now extends into your twenties. But somewhere, I've crossed that inevitable line where even the twenty-something adolescence excuse  no longer applies. For crying out loud, I use expensive anti-aging cream on my forehead to "ease the appearance of fine lines." I remember moving to Brooklyn at 22 and meeting my new roommate. She was 25. "My God, you're so young! You don't even know. You just wait. Just wait until you're my age." All the while I'm like, WTF is she talking about? We're three years apart. Well it turns out that those are three CRUCIAL years. The post-college, get-a-job, quit-your-binge-drinking-and-get-a-real-life years. 

Why did it take me so long to figure this out? Maybe it's because I spent four years working at a teen magazine and watching the Disney Channel and MTV for "research" purposes. Or because I dated a guy three crucial years younger than me. Or because it finally hit me that many of my friends from high school and college are getting married, buying houses and having children. And I'm not ready for any of those things. Are you ever ready? Or do you just dive in and pray that the cold water of the unknown doesn't sting so bad?

1 comment:

  1. I heart you Tina. I feel the same way! My college roommate is on her 2nd marriage and 2nd pregnancy, this time with twins and I'm contemplating spending the last of my paycheck on groceries or happy hour.


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