Tuesday, October 9, 2007
thirty is the new black
When I arrived at work today, I saw that signs had been posted around the building notifying everyone that today was the birthday of H., one of our HR girls. There was a big, colorful "Happy Birthday" banner outside of her office and smaller signs had been taped to various walls and doors saying "H. is 30 today!" These smaller signs also had some sort of clip art on them, but it wasn't until I got closer I noticed it was a picture of the grim reaper with the words OVER THE HILL!
Ah, how I remember those days when I had aunts and uncles making a big deal about turning 50. Then there was the year my dad turned 40 and everybody at his office wore black armbands and passed out black roses to all the employees. But 30? Is this really the new scary age? Most people don't even figure out who the (intercourse) they are until their mid-twenties, and that's if they are incredibly fortunate, which doesn't leave much time to win the Triple Crown before being put out to pasture (Yeah. I know. But I've spent the past year living in two of the biggest horse cities around. So sue me.)
What does this mean for my relationship, where one of us is over the hill and one of us is still climbing it? (And, just by looking at our blogs, I'm fairly certain it's pretty obvious which one of us is still in the prime of her life, given that I have the fun, pink, perky layout. Oh. Wait....). A six-year age difference doesn't seem like much, but when looked at from this perspective, why, it's practically a may-december romance.
I'll be 27 when I graduate with my master's degree, so I suppose it's best to know this sort of information sooner rather than later. Though it's a little daunting to think that as soon as I get a job I'm going to have to start planning my retirement from it. I guess it's just a good thing I was smart enough to spend my twenties going to school for careers that guarantee lots and lots of money.
Ah, how I remember those days when I had aunts and uncles making a big deal about turning 50. Then there was the year my dad turned 40 and everybody at his office wore black armbands and passed out black roses to all the employees. But 30? Is this really the new scary age? Most people don't even figure out who the (intercourse) they are until their mid-twenties, and that's if they are incredibly fortunate, which doesn't leave much time to win the Triple Crown before being put out to pasture (Yeah. I know. But I've spent the past year living in two of the biggest horse cities around. So sue me.)
What does this mean for my relationship, where one of us is over the hill and one of us is still climbing it? (And, just by looking at our blogs, I'm fairly certain it's pretty obvious which one of us is still in the prime of her life, given that I have the fun, pink, perky layout. Oh. Wait....). A six-year age difference doesn't seem like much, but when looked at from this perspective, why, it's practically a may-december romance.
I'll be 27 when I graduate with my master's degree, so I suppose it's best to know this sort of information sooner rather than later. Though it's a little daunting to think that as soon as I get a job I'm going to have to start planning my retirement from it. I guess it's just a good thing I was smart enough to spend my twenties going to school for careers that guarantee lots and lots of money.
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