I woke up this morning feeling old. Not elderly, just not young. It dawned on me that I’ve probably been feeling this way for a while. I just hadn’t realized it, not really. To be fair, I was in bed by 8:30 last night ( I did make it through 1/4 of a movie because I’m a party animal) which meant I was up with the roosters this morning. Since I live in the city there are no actual roosters around, so the closest thing by comparison was the noise of the kids across the hall coming back from an after party at 5 a.m. This is what got me pondering about aging.
I am 33. I’m not in my “crazy” 20’s anymore and I’m not yet middle aged. So, what am I? My niece is 11. She’s not a little girl anymore and she’s just a few years shy of being a teenager (God bless ya sissy!) she gets the luxury of being a “tween”. This sub age was not yet classified when I was her age and was feeling very “adult” feelings towards Leonardo Dicaprio while I smoked cigarettes and wore the glittery pink scrunchy that came with my Barbie Doll. Jordan, if you’re reading this; only do the Barbie thing!
The point is this: there should be a term for us adults who are in between young adult and middle aged. I propose the word “Twiddle”. I like it because it blends between and middle and because it sounds kind of dirty if used correctly in a sentence. Example: “I’m so sorry I was late to work, I had to stop to twiddle myself”.
Not every Twiddle will have the same background but I believe that if you indeed fit in to the twiddle class, you will identify with some of the scenarios listed below.
Going to see live shows. Are you up for it?
There was a time in my life in the not too distant past that going to see a band play on a work night occurred multiple times a week. I, knowing that I had to be up at 7 a.m. the next day, would laugh in the face of a good night’s sleep. Choosing instead, to don the black t-shirt that best showcased my tattoos and take my place in the multitude of other tattooed t-shirt wearers as we nodded our heads in understated electric guitar appreciation and downed PBR after PBR. These days, the prospect of this is not only unappealing, it sounds down right exhausting. I can’t for the life of me figure out when I fell out of love with doing that. I just did. Which to me, is the first sign that I am getting “too old for this shit!”
Shopping at Forever 21 or as I liked to call it until it wasn’t cute anymore, Forever 28, 29, 30.
Now it just feels like I’m pushing it. Sure, any thrifty girl would love a $12 lace tutu made by tiny Asian hands but at a certain point in our lives it just feels creepy (or should) to shop at a place that is pumping techno and selling exact replicas of what you wore 20 years ago.
Anyone else feel like offering unsolicited parental advice to stupid teenagers?
I’m not even a parent but sometimes the urge to be the host of my own ABC after school special is so tempting. When I see a kid texting while driving, I daydream about epoxying their opposable digits into a permanent thumbs up position. Texting is what separates us from Primates but I think they’re winning on this front.
Was music always so bad?I ask this question realizing that I was a teenager in the age of The Spice Girls. I hated every minute of that but I was able to muddle through because I was still existing on the grunge fumes of Nirvana and Pearl Jam. For kids who didn’t listen to top pop 40 (like myself), you could turn the dial to the “alternative rock” station and hear music by The Toadies, The Flaming Lips or Radiohead. Back when rock was still being influenced by bands like Led Zeppelin, T-Rex and Thin Lizzie. Teenagers could hitch a ride to something much more substantially cool than pop had to offer. I’m not saying that all new music is bad (I’m not that old yet!). The Black Keys are a prime example that there is good old fashioned rock n’ roll inspired music being produced today.
I’ll stop now but I’ll leave you with this-Kid’s get off my lawn!