June Work Cupcakes II
Originally uploaded by princess_of_llyr.
Today is Lexie's official birthday (25 years young - way to go, girl!). When I was searching for just the right sentiment to impart in her birthday card, I thought it might be the time to drop in some words of wisdom about being 25, and what it all means in the great scheme of things.
And then I realised I can't actually remember being 25.
In fact, I came to the realisation that my 20s have all passed by me in a kind of blurry haze. Oh sure, there have been stand-out events over the years, but I can't pinpoint my 25th year and say to Lexie, "You know what? That rocked."
And I think, given how much I've been obsessing over it in the last 48 hours, it's bothering me that I can't say that.
What happened to me? I mean, I have a great memory. Hard as I try, I can't forget faces and, most of the time, I remember the names that go with them. Thanks to my super fabulous diary, I no longer forget where I have to be, and I have an uncanny ability to recall phone numbers. Then again, so did Rain Man, so perhaps don't hold that up as an example.
But on reflection, the last decade has been like one long year - no single age stood out from the rest as the one that has defined me (at least not in any way I can identify now). Don't misunderstand me though. I'm not suggesting that my life to this point has been blah, because nothing could be further from the truth. What I'm saying is that my life isn't a Hallmark card, with one birthday giving me the absolute ultimate, life-altering experience.
So naturally, my over-reacting brain has generated two schools of thought about this. Either the rest of my life is going to be as speedy and foggy as it has been so far leaving me completely incapable of singling out the annus fabulous, or (and this is the more preferable option obviously), perhaps my best is yet to come.
Maybe I'll be able to send Lexie a card for her 32nd birthday, or her 47th, or her 98th, and assure her that THAT year will be her best ever - and I'll be able to say so with authority.
So in the interim, on the occasion of her 25th, my card to Lexie apologised for my early onset alzheimer's and for not having any particular life lessons to impart. Instead, as the big sister she never wanted, I wished her the best for this year and all the ones to come. Surely the warm and fuzzies are all that anyone REALLY wants for their birthday, right?
8 comments:
any word lumped together with 'annus' does not conjure up appealing thoughts
i blame the queen of course for extracting it from the bowels of the dictionary
Speaking as a male on this very important topic, and being just a tad past 25 myself (thereby making me well qualified to give advice), I have found that when it comes to birthday's and wimmen, there is a simple path that always works:
1. You take a nice card (preferably make sure it is actually a birthday card) around to them and say that they mean so much to you that you couldn't trust it to the postman (and it saves on stamps),
2. Offer to stay for an hour or so IF she has got some cold beer in the fridge (if she hasn't, then an 'I left the stove on back home ....' gets you off and you can hit the front bar for a de-stressor).
As a male it's important to be sensitive and caring.
Hehe no kidding Dodgey, I blame Lizzy too. I thought you would like that one :)
Gab, you were 25 the year I turned 21 - and there is your milestone event!
Right that's it - I'm packing my bags and moving to whatever alternate universe that Reggie's now residing in. 27 indeed.
And Jems, it pains me to think that I remember your 21st because it was a kick-ass party. I have no recollection of my own triumphs that same year. I'm now waiting for Kate to chime in with stories of bottles of red wine and repeated visits to The Oxford (with costume changes in between). Shudder.
Mmm, I think the Oxford has faded into those convenient bowels of memory at this end as well. I was thinking how it must have been a year we lived together at North Adelaide. And however many of those there were were fun right? I definitely remember Jem's 21st although I prefer to think back to her 18th and our moment of dance floor triumph there. Rock Lobster!!
haha Kate - ready for this one? The Rock Lobster dance routine was my 16th!! My 16th was the house party, my 18th was at The Royal Hotel - back when the red carpet was sticky and loos had no toilet paper. Now it's a nice restaurant.
Just to continue this one more step and push the comments into double figures. I had feared that the Rock Lobster may have been your 16th Jems but I seemed to recall you drinking so I decided I must have been wrong... ;)
And I refuse to believe that the Royal is now a nice restaurant. For me it will always be a dodgy pub with sticky carpets. Does that make me sound old that I can't move on from that?
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