27
There are two times of the year that I tend to get very thoughtful, and rather depressed; the Christmas/New Year week, and around my birthday. Time seems to be passing faster, these days, than it did ten years ago, and every time my birthday rolls around I’m surprised.
I don’t know what being 27 is supposed to feel like, but I’m pretty sure that it’s not supposed to feel like 17, but with more responsibilities and less free time. I remember being 15, and thinking that I couldn’t imagine being 30, that it was just so old I couldn’t even conceive of what being 30 would be like. Now that I’m looking it in the face, albeit at a slight distance still, it’s an entirely different matter. Instead of not being able to conceive what it will be like to be 30, I’m having difficulty wrapping my head around the fact that I’ll actually be 30 in a few years. How did this happen? And not only that, but what the hell am I supposed to act like?
So far this year, I’ve gone to see more live music than I ever have in my life. Regardless of the past 9 years of drinking, I’ve still managed, on one or two occasions, to wake up the next morning, attempt the recall the night before, and winced. I recently bought a skirt that I’m fairly certain my mother wouldn’t approve of, and wore it out of the house. The only differences I can really see in myself from ten years ago, at 17, are that I’m less trusting, more cynical, don’t get a summer vacation, wear more make-up and high heels, have less money and less time, and have lived in a different country for the majority of the last ten years. Yes, there are differences – but certainly not enough that I feel like I should be 27.
So. Getting older. I vote ‘no’. The song below is from one of my current favourite bands, out of Australia, Powderfinger. I’ve been listening to it quite a bit lately.
These Days
It's coming round again
The slowly creeping hand
Of time and its command
Soon enough it comes
and settles in its place
Its shadow in my face
Puts pressure in my day
This life well it's slipping right through my hands
These days turned out nothing like I had planned
It's coming round again
The slowly creeping hand
Of time and its demands
It settles in its place
Its shadow in my face
Undignified and lame
This life well it's slipping right through my hands
These days turned out nothing like I had planned
Control well it's slipping right through my hands
These days turned out nothing like I had planned
Soon enough it comes
Soon enough it comes
To tie us down
I don’t know what being 27 is supposed to feel like, but I’m pretty sure that it’s not supposed to feel like 17, but with more responsibilities and less free time. I remember being 15, and thinking that I couldn’t imagine being 30, that it was just so old I couldn’t even conceive of what being 30 would be like. Now that I’m looking it in the face, albeit at a slight distance still, it’s an entirely different matter. Instead of not being able to conceive what it will be like to be 30, I’m having difficulty wrapping my head around the fact that I’ll actually be 30 in a few years. How did this happen? And not only that, but what the hell am I supposed to act like?
So far this year, I’ve gone to see more live music than I ever have in my life. Regardless of the past 9 years of drinking, I’ve still managed, on one or two occasions, to wake up the next morning, attempt the recall the night before, and winced. I recently bought a skirt that I’m fairly certain my mother wouldn’t approve of, and wore it out of the house. The only differences I can really see in myself from ten years ago, at 17, are that I’m less trusting, more cynical, don’t get a summer vacation, wear more make-up and high heels, have less money and less time, and have lived in a different country for the majority of the last ten years. Yes, there are differences – but certainly not enough that I feel like I should be 27.
So. Getting older. I vote ‘no’. The song below is from one of my current favourite bands, out of Australia, Powderfinger. I’ve been listening to it quite a bit lately.
These Days
It's coming round again
The slowly creeping hand
Of time and its command
Soon enough it comes
and settles in its place
Its shadow in my face
Puts pressure in my day
This life well it's slipping right through my hands
These days turned out nothing like I had planned
It's coming round again
The slowly creeping hand
Of time and its demands
It settles in its place
Its shadow in my face
Undignified and lame
This life well it's slipping right through my hands
These days turned out nothing like I had planned
Control well it's slipping right through my hands
These days turned out nothing like I had planned
Soon enough it comes
Soon enough it comes
To tie us down
Labels: life
posted by Auglaise at 11:06 AM
3 Comments:
How old you are is down to how you feel ans think you are, more than anything physical. If that makes any sense. I am 5 :)
27 was awesome, and feeling like your 17 but with more responsibility and less time actually summed it up quite nicely for me! You'll love it, promise xx
You gotta figure that this is that last time for 37 years that you and I will be a cubed number in age. Oh yes.
Eee gads woman - wish I was there for your b-day. I hope it was a good one.
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