Sunday, May 20, 2007
28 Years Later
Remember when you were a kid, and your uncle tells you he is 28 years old, and you can’t even understand the concept of being 28. It’s totally beyond all logical thought and you give up confused in the mathematics of it all. He’d laugh off your “wow, you’re old” comments and you’d think; “why are you laughing? You are 28 years old”. Time goes by and you learn your older cousin is 28, he smirks at your comments like “yeah, but when I’m 28, I’ll be much more successful (and I’ll have a boyfriend)”.
My name is Carrie Sewell and I am 28 years old.
(You thought I was going to end that sentence differently?).
I am neither, rich, successful, married or with child and I am still confused by the mathematics of it all.
I was sure that by the grand old age of 28, I would have experienced some kind of epiphany or calling in life. That perhaps I would have found the big switch to turn on the adult in me, or maybe while rummaging through items at a bargain sale I find a cheap price on maturity somewhere at the bottom of the pile. Maybe I would have met an old, caped man in an alley somewhere who for some reason knew my name and could explain to me the signs before mysteriously disappearing in the mist.
Unfortunately none of the above has occurred as yet, which leaves me only one option – To wait until one does. But suddenly, I now know how my uncle and cousin felt when I mocked their seniority. I was recently reminded on two separate occasions that I am in fact 28 years of age.
Last week, my kindergarten class discovered my age and they all sat around wide-eyed in bemusement. Naturally, I didn’t understand their little Japanese debate but I’m sure I heard stories about dinosaurs. I realise now that my uncle was laughing at my cute childhood innocence.
The second incident occurred during a conversation with my ex-boyfriend when I actually heard the words “you are too old for me” escape from his lips. It was at that moment that I realised not only why he is my ex-boyfriend but that, my cousin was smirking at me all those years ago because I was a fuckwit.
Today I am 28 years old. Instead of sitting at home pondering what this means, I am going to go out to celebrate my old age with a bunch of my fabulous mates. I might be 28 but I am still fortunate enough to have my stunning good looks, hot sex appeal, daring sense of humour and hideous sense in men. I better make the most of them while I can.
Saturday, May 05, 2007
Recipe for Disaster
Take one incredibly silly girl and add six vodka tonics. Put her in a room with her boss and sexy colleagues and wait for the destruction. It won’t be long before she’s hurling abuse at the boss from across the room to the tune of “You’re not the fucking boss tonight”, spilling beer on important documents and entertaining co-workers with inappropriate conversations about breasts. A job well done.
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