Thursday, March 23, 2006

The Good Old Haze

I just spent a few days with my twin, and I'm now writing from underneath a giant pile of emails and voicemails. So if I'm not communicating with you in the way that you would like or expect, please rest assured that I will soon, as it usually only takes me about 2 days to not care about my job anymore. Right now I'm in panic mode. And yet I still feel the need to share the following.

There's nothing like several days with your twin, a Vandals cassette, several hundred beers, and a 10-year-old photo album to make a girl feel like 22 again. A strange feeling descended this weekend: a long time ago I was an adult. In the not-too-distant past, ten years ago meant Kid. Now ten years ago means Seriously Fucked Up and Confused Adult with Unfortunately Dyed Hair, but Adult Nonetheless. While gazing upon a photo of my sister drunk on Boone's (proof indicated by the empty bottles in the foreground)with some skater dude, I felt panic and strangeness. She remembered the guy but not the night. Recognition of weirdness ensued. There were pictures of me obviously enraptured by best friends whose last names are now big question marks. The real friends are still a part of my life, but what about all of those random people who were so important, like that guy from my Biology of the Brain class? It wasn't that long ago, right? Wrong. It was 12 years ago. Many cans of Olympia beer ago. Hundreds of people ago...they're probably all married with kids. Back when I was an adult.

2 Comments:

Blogger Somerville Hound and Kitty Care said...

What strikes me as particularly odd re: the undergrad days...Is that, of my early-twenties friends, I might have been the one who seemed as if she would settle down into some nice longtermy marriage thingamabob (though I think I can now argue that pitching myself cross country every 3-5 years was possibly my --subconscious-- way of keeping myself from that route). Now, many of my college friends have not only married, but also reproduced. And me? I refer to marriage as a thingamabob; though I have to say I feel really grateful that most of my early-twenties self-loathing has dissipated...most of it.

6:18 AM  
Blogger Julia Story said...

Huh. Marriage is a thingamabob. When I think of marriage now, I think of a giant girdle.

5:27 AM  

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