It’s Official: I’m getting old

It’s 2010 and I hit a new milestone for my life: 26. I am officially be closer to 30 than 20. I know 30 is the new 20, according to Jay-Z. But to me it seems a bit ridiculous. 30 is still 30. I guess he could be referring to the fact that adulthood seems to be delayed more and more in the developed world. It’s like being able to now keep your parent’s health insurance coverage until 26. So you can smoke, vote, and join the armed forces at 18. You can drink at 21. But please, citizens of the United States, don’t actually try to provide for yourself until the age of 26? Something seems a bit skewed. Jay-Z is probably also saying this so he can keep releasing albums, even though he’s 40. Doesn’t one need to move past money, clothes, and (insert a derogative term for the next word) women at some point. I was a fan of Jay’s back in ’03. He “retired,” which I thought was the right move. Your past the youthfulness required to rap. Good decision. Then he released three more albums. Bad call.

In my mind, I’ve been an adult for the last eight years. But this leads me to my new decisions: I cannot shop at Aeropostle, Abercrombie and Fitch, and--even one of my favorite--American Eagle (A/AF/AE) anymore. On a recent trip to try to find new shoes and to rid myself of the same shorts I’ve had since my freshman year of college, I came across a new observation. I’m looking at the posters of models which advertise A/AF/AE clothing. I notice they look nothing like me. In fact, they look nothing like my peers, either. In greater fact, they look like they have a lot more in common with the students in my high school youth group than any of my friends.

And so it dawns on me. I have reached the age where I am moving on from my own stage of life of an extended adolescence and I have to start making my own adult decisions. I can’t shop where kids go with their mothers, and if I am going to a store where this occurs I stay out of that section. It might be time to look into opening a Roth IRA, and invest in a 401k. Do I need life insurance? Is it time to start dressing in snappy casual more often? Do I need to go to more dinner parties? Eh, I’ll save that for later. I think a rerun of Jersey Shore is coming on MTV.

Without Facebook, No One Remembers Your Birthday

Today is my birthday. I guess you could say this blog is my gift to myself. I have to try to keep writing. I went to school for it, for crying out loud.

But with it being my birthday, I reminisced about the things which happened over the years and all the good birthdays, and even the bad one (19th). But what really is noticeable is your birthday on Facebook. All of a sudden, people you haven't talked to since elementary school are saying happy birthday. You really are in awe that this many people took 20 seconds out of their busy day to wish you a happy birthday. Isn't it awesome?

But then, you have to ask yourself what life is really like without the benefit of a social networking site which stores everything for you. Do you really know your friend's birthday if they came up to you and asked you, "hey what's my birthdate?" No. In fact, here's a list of who's birthdays I do know: mom's; dad's; younger brother; youngest brother; grandfather's on my dad's side (day after my dad's); grandfather on my mom's side (Christmas); my three housemates' who were with with me my first year after college; first girlfriend's; and that's about it. Pathetic, I know.

But with the addition of technology making our lives better in so many ways, it has also allowed us to become more lazy than we could ever imagine. I mean, how many phone numbers do you know by heart anymore besides your own. I do not know my mom's cell phone number, nor my two brothers. If my phone goes down, it's over. I don't even have the benefit of a SIM card. So I'm really screwed.

Here are some other skills which have become diminished since technology has advanced: spelling; grammar (which I misspelled the first time I typed it); remembering where you parked your car (just hit the button until your trunk pops); math; balancing your checkbook (with internet banking, it's all there); and changing CDs while driving a stick and talking on your cell phone during rush hour (okay, I made the last one up).

So, curse you, technology. You have brought about laziness and forgetfulness among my friends and the people who I can barely remember. Curse you, for making me use a calculator to add. And especially, curse you, Facebook. Because I'm not drawn to your soul-taking qualities and abilities to stalk people and peer in on their photos of them probably doing things their parents would not like, I'm am left with only a handful of happy birthdays from people who I know actually do care enough about me to know my actual birthdate. Thank goodness I can vent because of this blog.