Messed with the blog colors today, but I don't like them. They're easier to read so I'm keeping them for now. I don't have the time to continue playing with them at the moment because The World's Most Perfect book bag just arrived and I need to bond with it. I'm taking name suggestions now so if you have some, pass them along.
Monday, January 31, 2005
Sunday, January 30, 2005
Please! Someone shut out the lights!
Just dropped Hub off at the airport. Blaze is going crazy because he's a daddy's boy and hates to be away from him. The cats don't like seeing the luggage out. They were only mildly happy that I came back. Yay for me. Anyway, it's why I'm awake at this ungodly hour. 8:15 am is a time that should never be seen by me. It's even more sad for the rest of you who might have to speak to me. Thank goodness the cops weren't checking ID this morning. I may have gotten arrested. I haven't had my coffee yet.
Two re-obsessions this week: Harry Potter and teeth so white they frighten small children. The bleach I got is working wonders - especially for a chain coffee/tea drinker like myself.
As for Harry Potter, I have to go cold turkey when I become re-obsessed. It's really all I'll be able to think about for the next few weeks and if I nurse this unhealthy attachment I'll never be able to get over it. I have to mentally prepare myself for the fact that there will only be 7 books and Harry may very well die at some point. Horrors!
Going back to bed now and getting up at a more reasonable time.
Ms. V
Two re-obsessions this week: Harry Potter and teeth so white they frighten small children. The bleach I got is working wonders - especially for a chain coffee/tea drinker like myself.
As for Harry Potter, I have to go cold turkey when I become re-obsessed. It's really all I'll be able to think about for the next few weeks and if I nurse this unhealthy attachment I'll never be able to get over it. I have to mentally prepare myself for the fact that there will only be 7 books and Harry may very well die at some point. Horrors!
Going back to bed now and getting up at a more reasonable time.
Ms. V
Saturday, January 29, 2005
Good news and bad news...
The good news is that Princess Fluffypants (otherwise known as Grenidine) is eating better so we opted not to go to the emergency vet. She seems like she's back to normal. Crying at the door, getting into mischief, and being the cutest little smooshy-butt in the world. In fact, the hub just informed me that Greni has requested we move the towels down a shelf in our bathroom so she can jump up and sleep on them. I'll get to that first thing in the morning.
The bad news is that her urinary prob's *might* be coming back. Bleh. I'm going to have to get a urine sample now. Trying to convince a cat to pee in an empty litter box is about as impossible as running at the speed of light. Wish me luck.
Speaking of running... guess who's getting her fat arse back on the treadmill tomorrow? Yup. Your's truly. Hub is out of town on business for the week so I have an empty house to exercise in. There's a 5k in May that I want to be ready for - that's just over 3 miles. Considering I can only comfortably run about a quarter of a mile, well, I have a lot of work to do. Wish me luck with that, too.
Happy weekend to all. I'm off to read about macromolecules before I get some shut eye.
Ms. V
The bad news is that her urinary prob's *might* be coming back. Bleh. I'm going to have to get a urine sample now. Trying to convince a cat to pee in an empty litter box is about as impossible as running at the speed of light. Wish me luck.
Speaking of running... guess who's getting her fat arse back on the treadmill tomorrow? Yup. Your's truly. Hub is out of town on business for the week so I have an empty house to exercise in. There's a 5k in May that I want to be ready for - that's just over 3 miles. Considering I can only comfortably run about a quarter of a mile, well, I have a lot of work to do. Wish me luck with that, too.
Happy weekend to all. I'm off to read about macromolecules before I get some shut eye.
Ms. V
The award for best cleaning device in the history of mankind goes to...
The Mr. Clean Magic Eraser!
Seriously, this is the best thing to clean with since the invention of soap. I just used it to remove a 3-year old hair dye stain from our bathroom door.
Ms. V
Seriously, this is the best thing to clean with since the invention of soap. I just used it to remove a 3-year old hair dye stain from our bathroom door.
Ms. V
"Oh, I'm handling it alright. I've had so much Mylanta I'm coughing up chalk!"
Grenidine is sick.
There. I said it. The first step is admitting it. Nothing induces a full blown panic attack more quickly than knowing that one of my precious little fur-babies is ill. She barely ate last night and she didn't eat breakfast this morning. After a bout of 2 UTI's and some crystals, we were supposed to have another urinalysis done. Didn't get the sample, she seemed fine, figured all was well.
I have no idea why she's suddenly gone all "Calista" on us though. I hope it doesn't have to do with the fact that I'm a horribly neglectful, kicking-myself-in-the-arse cat mommy because I didn't have that final urinalysis done. It might very well be something minor, like a simple cold that's preventing her from smelling her food. BUT - her eyes aren't watery and her nose doesn't sound stuffy. Bleh.
Anyway, I called the vet. They gave me the option of paying over $100 to see the ER vet this afternoon, or seeing her sooner and paying WAY over $100. I said that I'd see if she ate her snack. If she doesn't, then it's off to the emergency vet we go! Why is it that out of 4 cats, NONE of them can get sick during the week when it's less expensive? Don't get me wrong - I don't mind paying the extra - the cost is still well worth it for their health and my sanity, but the money spent at the ER vet could otherwise be spent on new toys for them and the toys are more fun to buy.
Cross your fingers that she eats. She's just a tiny little thing. She needs some food in her belly!!
There. I said it. The first step is admitting it. Nothing induces a full blown panic attack more quickly than knowing that one of my precious little fur-babies is ill. She barely ate last night and she didn't eat breakfast this morning. After a bout of 2 UTI's and some crystals, we were supposed to have another urinalysis done. Didn't get the sample, she seemed fine, figured all was well.
I have no idea why she's suddenly gone all "Calista" on us though. I hope it doesn't have to do with the fact that I'm a horribly neglectful, kicking-myself-in-the-arse cat mommy because I didn't have that final urinalysis done. It might very well be something minor, like a simple cold that's preventing her from smelling her food. BUT - her eyes aren't watery and her nose doesn't sound stuffy. Bleh.
Anyway, I called the vet. They gave me the option of paying over $100 to see the ER vet this afternoon, or seeing her sooner and paying WAY over $100. I said that I'd see if she ate her snack. If she doesn't, then it's off to the emergency vet we go! Why is it that out of 4 cats, NONE of them can get sick during the week when it's less expensive? Don't get me wrong - I don't mind paying the extra - the cost is still well worth it for their health and my sanity, but the money spent at the ER vet could otherwise be spent on new toys for them and the toys are more fun to buy.
Cross your fingers that she eats. She's just a tiny little thing. She needs some food in her belly!!
Friday, January 28, 2005
"Get away from me, you jackals!"
Well, since my sister had the good idea about getting all of her post titles from Seinfeld episodes, I figured I'd get some of my post titles out of the episodes of random shows. In fact, the above quote is out of a classic episode of Murphy Brown. I love that show, and I especially love that "Nick at Night" is now re-running it during the week at 11:30 pm. My DVR is really being put to work!
In either case, the quote seemed rather fitting for the day I've had. Apparently, here in Vermont, if you're over the age of 82 or if you have a child under the age of 3 (preferably one who likes to stand around and scream), 2pm on Friday afternoon is the exact time that you like to do all of your grocery shopping for the year. Unfortunately, 2pm on this Friday afternoon is also the time that I chose to pick up a few snacks for the week (as well as some anti-aging cream and birth control pills). Never have I bumped into so many other carts. Never have I spent over an hour and a half navigating the aisles just to pick up my 20-or-so items. Never AGAIN will I make the mistake of shopping at 2pm on a Friday afternoon.
Sadly, the only things I got out of it were the ingredients for some really good homemade hummus and those "little hugs" juice drinks that we used to have at my dad's house when I was a kid. I'm aging. That means I'm feeling nostalgic. So what if I'm 27 years old and drinking colored-sugar-water out of a cheap, fake plastic barrel?
I also noticed something interesting while I was there: all of the "10 items or less" lines have been changed to "14 items or less." Now, I know that there are many, many people who sneak through those check-out lines with more than 10 items. I can't help but wonder if some mega-conglomerate-super-store funded a study to find out the average # of extra items that people smuggle onto the conveyor belt. I'm sure that based on their findings, they upped the checkout limit to 14. Wow. I wonder why people go hungry in this world when there's so much money to be tossed around? Now I'm kinda' TO'd and will have to look into this new 14 item limit.
Happy shopping!
Ms. V
In either case, the quote seemed rather fitting for the day I've had. Apparently, here in Vermont, if you're over the age of 82 or if you have a child under the age of 3 (preferably one who likes to stand around and scream), 2pm on Friday afternoon is the exact time that you like to do all of your grocery shopping for the year. Unfortunately, 2pm on this Friday afternoon is also the time that I chose to pick up a few snacks for the week (as well as some anti-aging cream and birth control pills). Never have I bumped into so many other carts. Never have I spent over an hour and a half navigating the aisles just to pick up my 20-or-so items. Never AGAIN will I make the mistake of shopping at 2pm on a Friday afternoon.
Sadly, the only things I got out of it were the ingredients for some really good homemade hummus and those "little hugs" juice drinks that we used to have at my dad's house when I was a kid. I'm aging. That means I'm feeling nostalgic. So what if I'm 27 years old and drinking colored-sugar-water out of a cheap, fake plastic barrel?
I also noticed something interesting while I was there: all of the "10 items or less" lines have been changed to "14 items or less." Now, I know that there are many, many people who sneak through those check-out lines with more than 10 items. I can't help but wonder if some mega-conglomerate-super-store funded a study to find out the average # of extra items that people smuggle onto the conveyor belt. I'm sure that based on their findings, they upped the checkout limit to 14. Wow. I wonder why people go hungry in this world when there's so much money to be tossed around? Now I'm kinda' TO'd and will have to look into this new 14 item limit.
Happy shopping!
Ms. V
Tuesday, January 25, 2005
My quest for the perfect backpack has come to an end!
Growing up, my aunt worked at a college bookstore and as a result, we always got the coolest Jansport backpacks for school. They lased forEVER and they were simple yet versatile. In fact, just last year I retired the one I had from Jr. High school. Impressive, isn't it?
Anyway, to replace my old backpack, my husband and I went on a quest for the perfect Jansport replacement. I thought I had found it, but after lugging around giant science books (WHY are they always so large? Larger than any other subject?), I've decided that it's better as a backup. A new challenge emerged.
I needed to combine the old with the new in order to make it fit me in the best way possible. I liked the simplicity of the old: one main pocket, one front pocket. I liked the organization of the new: the front pocket had organizers for pens, assignment pads, a mini stapler and other such supplies.
Yesterday, my quest for the "World's Most Perfect Backpack" came to an end. It turns out that Jansport now makes my old backpack with the organization in the front pocket - just like my new backpack, PLUS another small front pocket for my assignment pad. Woo hoo! The best part? It was on sale. I'm patiently awaiting the arrival of my new baby.
This is what happens when you become obsessed with backpacks as a child. It was always about having the best one in grade school, the coolest one in Jr. High, and the most versatile one in High school - if you used one at all. Sometimes I was cool enough to carry just my books. Yes, I'm awesome. Anyway, this has carried through the rest of my life and I'm now a back-pack obsessed 27 year old. Perhaps the only thing good about an otherwise crappy birthday was that I found this little gem. Yay!
Enough backpack rambling. I've got some sauce to make.
Anyway, to replace my old backpack, my husband and I went on a quest for the perfect Jansport replacement. I thought I had found it, but after lugging around giant science books (WHY are they always so large? Larger than any other subject?), I've decided that it's better as a backup. A new challenge emerged.
I needed to combine the old with the new in order to make it fit me in the best way possible. I liked the simplicity of the old: one main pocket, one front pocket. I liked the organization of the new: the front pocket had organizers for pens, assignment pads, a mini stapler and other such supplies.
Yesterday, my quest for the "World's Most Perfect Backpack" came to an end. It turns out that Jansport now makes my old backpack with the organization in the front pocket - just like my new backpack, PLUS another small front pocket for my assignment pad. Woo hoo! The best part? It was on sale. I'm patiently awaiting the arrival of my new baby.
This is what happens when you become obsessed with backpacks as a child. It was always about having the best one in grade school, the coolest one in Jr. High, and the most versatile one in High school - if you used one at all. Sometimes I was cool enough to carry just my books. Yes, I'm awesome. Anyway, this has carried through the rest of my life and I'm now a back-pack obsessed 27 year old. Perhaps the only thing good about an otherwise crappy birthday was that I found this little gem. Yay!
Enough backpack rambling. I've got some sauce to make.
Monday, January 24, 2005
27 years, 3 hours, and 32 minutes...
That is officially how old I am. That's right: I was born on January 24 at 6pm on the dot. Couldn't have timed it any better, huh? My mom had me and then probably promptly got served a yummy hospital dinner (sorry mom...).
In either case, I'd like to say a huge "thank you" to all of my family and friends who sent birthday wishes to me in some form - either by card, email, phone call, telepathy... you name it. Alright, telepathy doesn't count unless I got the message. Don't think you can weasle your way out of wishing me a Happy Birthday by saying "but I was THINKING it - didn't you pick up on that?" It only counts if I felt you were thinking it.
For those of you who haven't wished me a Happy Birthday, well, I'm down to counting the hours as the years go on and since - as I mentioned - I was born at 6pm eastern time exactly, you have 24 hours from that point to put your letter on the pony express. That means that I'll be accepting birthday wishes until 6pm tomorrow. This entire day was spent in class. I left at 8:30 am and returned at 9:10 pm, so I need as many "Happy" thoughts as I can get. My brain is disintigrating. If you still don't get your "Happy Birthday" in by the deadline, well, I'll forgive you... eventually. Perhaps in a few years after a some make-up Happy Birthdays. We'll see.
Despite the fact that the day wasn't too thrilling, I had the luxury of having my sister visit for the weekend and we always have a good time together. I finally got to introduce her to "Napolean Dynamite" too. In fact, Blaze even watched it with us. You know it's good when the cat takes interest. Hubby and I will be having a nice dinner together tomorrow night to make up for the lack of celebration today and I'm also looking forward to that. He was going to cook for me, but I'm really craving my mom's spaghetti sauce so I'm going to spend the day nurturing that instead - complete with vegetarian ground, vegetarian sausage, and vegetarian meatballs. Don't crinkle your nose up like that. This stuff is actually very good. I wouldn't eat it if it weren't.
The rest of my evening will be spent eating a can of vegetable soup, studying, and cuddling with the fab four (the cats). Sounds like heaven!
Time to get some of that soup in my belly... I'm starving.
Happy Birthday to me!
In either case, I'd like to say a huge "thank you" to all of my family and friends who sent birthday wishes to me in some form - either by card, email, phone call, telepathy... you name it. Alright, telepathy doesn't count unless I got the message. Don't think you can weasle your way out of wishing me a Happy Birthday by saying "but I was THINKING it - didn't you pick up on that?" It only counts if I felt you were thinking it.
For those of you who haven't wished me a Happy Birthday, well, I'm down to counting the hours as the years go on and since - as I mentioned - I was born at 6pm eastern time exactly, you have 24 hours from that point to put your letter on the pony express. That means that I'll be accepting birthday wishes until 6pm tomorrow. This entire day was spent in class. I left at 8:30 am and returned at 9:10 pm, so I need as many "Happy" thoughts as I can get. My brain is disintigrating. If you still don't get your "Happy Birthday" in by the deadline, well, I'll forgive you... eventually. Perhaps in a few years after a some make-up Happy Birthdays. We'll see.
Despite the fact that the day wasn't too thrilling, I had the luxury of having my sister visit for the weekend and we always have a good time together. I finally got to introduce her to "Napolean Dynamite" too. In fact, Blaze even watched it with us. You know it's good when the cat takes interest. Hubby and I will be having a nice dinner together tomorrow night to make up for the lack of celebration today and I'm also looking forward to that. He was going to cook for me, but I'm really craving my mom's spaghetti sauce so I'm going to spend the day nurturing that instead - complete with vegetarian ground, vegetarian sausage, and vegetarian meatballs. Don't crinkle your nose up like that. This stuff is actually very good. I wouldn't eat it if it weren't.
The rest of my evening will be spent eating a can of vegetable soup, studying, and cuddling with the fab four (the cats). Sounds like heaven!
Time to get some of that soup in my belly... I'm starving.
Happy Birthday to me!
Sunday, January 16, 2005
Ladies and Gentlemen! The cheesiest movie of the year is...
"The Village" by M. Night Shyamalan! Yes, it's sad but true. This master of "The Sixth Sense" completely blew it when he made "The Village." When you finally get to the ending, it turns out to be more sad than scary - both in the movie itself and in the sense that Minoge Night actually spent so much money making a crappy flick.
Though the cinematography was great, the acting and storyline were so horrible that all we were able to do was poke fun at it. When you're heckling a flick, it's hard to be creeped out by it.
This is, by far, one of the best candidates for "Mystery Science Theatre 3000" that I've ever seen. My husband, my friends, and myself certainly had a great time ripping it apart last night so I'm sure the professionals could really go at it. We had the ending figured out at about the half way point.
The first half of the movie just wasn't thrilling enough. When we finally caught a glimpse of "those we do not speak of" it did, however, give us a bit of a jump. All you see is a bright red cape. It's that kind of subtlety that makes a movie into a thriller. Unfortunately, 10 minutes later, it actually showed the monster - clearly a poorly made costume of an unrealistic "creature" that couldn't possibly exist. That alone made this movie more "sci-fi" than "thriller." I must say, I'm still reeling from the disappointment.
I absolutely loved "The Sixth Sense" and "Unbreakable" (mostly because I love superheros). I had high hopes for "The Village" but alas - they were dashed. Crushed. Completely shattered. I wouldn't recommend this to anyone unless they wanted to endure a good cheese-fest. Thank goodness we have that blockbuster rental card! I would have been even more upset if we had spent the $4 on the rental fee.
In better news, we also ended up renting "Harold and Kumar Go To Whitecastle." I thought this movie was going to be a complete bomb, but after watching "The Village" I knew it could only go uphill. It turned out to be hilarious! Maybe not a must-rent, but a fun movie to check out none-the-less.
Now, I can't really spout off a bunch of stuff about the cheesiest movie I've seen this year without acknowledging the BEST (yes, capital letter BEST) movie I've seen, can I? "Napolean Dynamite." It's a must rent. MUST. In fact, it's a must-own. The whole damn thing is so hilarious and kooky that you can't help but laugh hysterically and say "what on Earth?" every few seconds. The best part is the fact that the players are stuck in the 80's so I had a bonus experience of being able to say "I used to own those same boots!" or "I used to wear my hair like that!" Please - I beg you - if you find yourself in a situation where you're only allowed to rent one movie for the rest of the year, make it this one. It's a low-budget flick and I guarantee you'll come out of it with a *tiny* crush on Napolean and a *large* craving for tater-tots.
That's it for now folks - stay safe and be well!
xo,
Ms. V
Though the cinematography was great, the acting and storyline were so horrible that all we were able to do was poke fun at it. When you're heckling a flick, it's hard to be creeped out by it.
This is, by far, one of the best candidates for "Mystery Science Theatre 3000" that I've ever seen. My husband, my friends, and myself certainly had a great time ripping it apart last night so I'm sure the professionals could really go at it. We had the ending figured out at about the half way point.
The first half of the movie just wasn't thrilling enough. When we finally caught a glimpse of "those we do not speak of" it did, however, give us a bit of a jump. All you see is a bright red cape. It's that kind of subtlety that makes a movie into a thriller. Unfortunately, 10 minutes later, it actually showed the monster - clearly a poorly made costume of an unrealistic "creature" that couldn't possibly exist. That alone made this movie more "sci-fi" than "thriller." I must say, I'm still reeling from the disappointment.
I absolutely loved "The Sixth Sense" and "Unbreakable" (mostly because I love superheros). I had high hopes for "The Village" but alas - they were dashed. Crushed. Completely shattered. I wouldn't recommend this to anyone unless they wanted to endure a good cheese-fest. Thank goodness we have that blockbuster rental card! I would have been even more upset if we had spent the $4 on the rental fee.
In better news, we also ended up renting "Harold and Kumar Go To Whitecastle." I thought this movie was going to be a complete bomb, but after watching "The Village" I knew it could only go uphill. It turned out to be hilarious! Maybe not a must-rent, but a fun movie to check out none-the-less.
Now, I can't really spout off a bunch of stuff about the cheesiest movie I've seen this year without acknowledging the BEST (yes, capital letter BEST) movie I've seen, can I? "Napolean Dynamite." It's a must rent. MUST. In fact, it's a must-own. The whole damn thing is so hilarious and kooky that you can't help but laugh hysterically and say "what on Earth?" every few seconds. The best part is the fact that the players are stuck in the 80's so I had a bonus experience of being able to say "I used to own those same boots!" or "I used to wear my hair like that!" Please - I beg you - if you find yourself in a situation where you're only allowed to rent one movie for the rest of the year, make it this one. It's a low-budget flick and I guarantee you'll come out of it with a *tiny* crush on Napolean and a *large* craving for tater-tots.
That's it for now folks - stay safe and be well!
xo,
Ms. V
Friday, January 14, 2005
I guess 30 really IS the new 20
OK folks, after watching "Queer Eye for the Straight Girl" and noticing just how much fun the straight chic was having at her 30th b-day party, I'm kind of getting excited.
My buddy Perplexio commented with some very-true thoughts: that the idea of turning 30 is far more scary than the actual event. I've decided to live it up! I'm saving my time, energy, and money to throw a huge bash and make it the best possible birthday I could have. Even better than my "24 on the 24th", which was a 4-day long celebration.
I went to Perplexio's blog to check it out and saw an "agifier" game. I took it, and guess what? Although I'm about to turn 27, I already act like I'm 34. I guess I'm not getting older, I'm just catching up with myself. :wink:
xo,
Ms. V
My buddy Perplexio commented with some very-true thoughts: that the idea of turning 30 is far more scary than the actual event. I've decided to live it up! I'm saving my time, energy, and money to throw a huge bash and make it the best possible birthday I could have. Even better than my "24 on the 24th", which was a 4-day long celebration.
I went to Perplexio's blog to check it out and saw an "agifier" game. I took it, and guess what? Although I'm about to turn 27, I already act like I'm 34. I guess I'm not getting older, I'm just catching up with myself. :wink:
xo,
Ms. V
Wow.
|
You Are 34 Years Old |
|
34 Under 12: You are a kid at heart. You still have an optimistic life view - and you look at the world with awe. 13-19: You are a teenager at heart. You question authority and are still trying to find your place in this world. 20-29: You are a twentysomething at heart. You feel excited about what's to come... love, work, and new experiences. 30-39: You are a thirtysomething at heart. You've had a taste of success and true love, but you want more! 40+: You are a mature adult. You've been through most of the ups and downs of life already. Now you get to sit back and relax. |
Wednesday, January 12, 2005
A note about approaching 30...
Yes, I realize I once again have neglected all of my friends out there in blog world. School finished, but the holidays came whirring in. Between buying gifts, wrapping gifts, traveling to NY, planning to travel to PA, catching up on housework and taking care of 2 sick cats, I guess life has decided to keep me busy once again. School starts again on Monday and this semester I'll be commuting 2 days a week. Thrilling.
In either case, all of this is minor compared to the fact that I am approaching the age of 30 far more quickly than I'd like. In fact, I've only recently gotten to the point where I can admit to it without stuttering or tearing up. I've never been fond of aging. I distinctly remember the excrutiating pain I felt at turning 21. I cried for a half an hour straight the night before my birthday. It didn't help that only 3 days later, when I was finally of "legal drinking age", I went to Hannaford to buy a 6 pack of cider jack (I know, many of you true-blue beer drinkers are either scoffing or gagging right now). If you look like you're under the age of 30, you're supposed to have your ID checked. The clerk didn't check mine. Apparently, I looked over 30 at that point. The icing on the cake was when she called me "mam." I was no longer a "miss." I'm equally as afraid that something as depressing will happen to me as I near the big 3-0. Perhaps I'll get to the check-out at my favorite clothing store and be asked if I get a senior citizen's discount. Perhaps one of the people at the grocery store will offer me one of those motorized carts to help me get around more easily.
I know this seems absurd to many of you, especially my post-30 friends who feel that their lives have just begun and that they're in their prime. It IS absurd though. Even *I* think it is. However, combined with my long-time hatred towards my own aging process, I have to face the fact that I'm still nursing a college "career" at the age of 27 (well, OK, I won't be 27 for another 12 days but that's close enough). I sit through classes with people who are nearly a generation younger than I am. I see the differences between us and realize that I'm slowly becoming an old fuddy-duddy. That is the LAST thing I want to morph into. I can't really go in the opposite direction because I led a very different life at the age of 20 than most of them have, so I can't reach out the them and "get younger", so to speak.
On the bright side, when I'm in medical school, I'll be mixed with a melting pot of ages. Some people start med school at 22, some start at 52 - or even older! Many of the med students and residents I've met and work with are typically in their 30's though. I'll take comfort in the fact that in a few short years, I'll be exactly where I feel I should be. My late teens and early 20's were spent as being "too old" - paying bills, holding down a full time job, being responsible when all of my friends were still in college and partying constantly. My late 20's have been spent going back to school to do the things I wish I had done 10 years ago. This has the unfortunate side effect of making me feel like I'm still 23 or 24. When I realize I'm about to turn 27, I have to actually do the math and subtract 1978 from 2005.
Truthfully though, I still wouldn't change anything. I was pretty successful when I first started at BCI nearly 7 years ago. The odd part is that I was the youngest employee. In fact, I was the *only* employee under the age of 21 from the day I started on April 29, 1998 until my birthday on January 24, 1999. I was a bouncy red-head without anything to go home to at the end of the day, so they liked the fact that I would always be willing to work late - sometimes until 10 o'clock at night! This attitude and maturity honored me with 4 promotions in 5 1/2 years before I left the company in order to fully focus on my studies. Likewise, being a bit older in school has awarded me with the ability to befriend my professors in an honest manner (as opposed to a brown-nosing manner). To discuss politics, or psychology over a cup of coffee, or have them view me as one of the few people in the class who can help them out, or who they can recommend articles to simply because they know it would interest me has been thrilling. Looking back, I wouldn't trade it for the world - even if it does make me feel a tad old.
In only 6 months and 13 days I'll officially be closer to 30 than I am to 25. I suppose you're truly only as old as you feel. In that respect, I guess I'll keep plugging along but I'm going to reserve the right to do what my stepfather does: turn 29 on every birthday! :)
xo-
Ms. V
In either case, all of this is minor compared to the fact that I am approaching the age of 30 far more quickly than I'd like. In fact, I've only recently gotten to the point where I can admit to it without stuttering or tearing up. I've never been fond of aging. I distinctly remember the excrutiating pain I felt at turning 21. I cried for a half an hour straight the night before my birthday. It didn't help that only 3 days later, when I was finally of "legal drinking age", I went to Hannaford to buy a 6 pack of cider jack (I know, many of you true-blue beer drinkers are either scoffing or gagging right now). If you look like you're under the age of 30, you're supposed to have your ID checked. The clerk didn't check mine. Apparently, I looked over 30 at that point. The icing on the cake was when she called me "mam." I was no longer a "miss." I'm equally as afraid that something as depressing will happen to me as I near the big 3-0. Perhaps I'll get to the check-out at my favorite clothing store and be asked if I get a senior citizen's discount. Perhaps one of the people at the grocery store will offer me one of those motorized carts to help me get around more easily.
I know this seems absurd to many of you, especially my post-30 friends who feel that their lives have just begun and that they're in their prime. It IS absurd though. Even *I* think it is. However, combined with my long-time hatred towards my own aging process, I have to face the fact that I'm still nursing a college "career" at the age of 27 (well, OK, I won't be 27 for another 12 days but that's close enough). I sit through classes with people who are nearly a generation younger than I am. I see the differences between us and realize that I'm slowly becoming an old fuddy-duddy. That is the LAST thing I want to morph into. I can't really go in the opposite direction because I led a very different life at the age of 20 than most of them have, so I can't reach out the them and "get younger", so to speak.
On the bright side, when I'm in medical school, I'll be mixed with a melting pot of ages. Some people start med school at 22, some start at 52 - or even older! Many of the med students and residents I've met and work with are typically in their 30's though. I'll take comfort in the fact that in a few short years, I'll be exactly where I feel I should be. My late teens and early 20's were spent as being "too old" - paying bills, holding down a full time job, being responsible when all of my friends were still in college and partying constantly. My late 20's have been spent going back to school to do the things I wish I had done 10 years ago. This has the unfortunate side effect of making me feel like I'm still 23 or 24. When I realize I'm about to turn 27, I have to actually do the math and subtract 1978 from 2005.
Truthfully though, I still wouldn't change anything. I was pretty successful when I first started at BCI nearly 7 years ago. The odd part is that I was the youngest employee. In fact, I was the *only* employee under the age of 21 from the day I started on April 29, 1998 until my birthday on January 24, 1999. I was a bouncy red-head without anything to go home to at the end of the day, so they liked the fact that I would always be willing to work late - sometimes until 10 o'clock at night! This attitude and maturity honored me with 4 promotions in 5 1/2 years before I left the company in order to fully focus on my studies. Likewise, being a bit older in school has awarded me with the ability to befriend my professors in an honest manner (as opposed to a brown-nosing manner). To discuss politics, or psychology over a cup of coffee, or have them view me as one of the few people in the class who can help them out, or who they can recommend articles to simply because they know it would interest me has been thrilling. Looking back, I wouldn't trade it for the world - even if it does make me feel a tad old.
In only 6 months and 13 days I'll officially be closer to 30 than I am to 25. I suppose you're truly only as old as you feel. In that respect, I guess I'll keep plugging along but I'm going to reserve the right to do what my stepfather does: turn 29 on every birthday! :)
xo-
Ms. V
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