El Cerrito, CA

Being 26 means a whole new identity. Living at home, being cared for, yet feeling quite settled, self-sufficient and simple — I feel at once old and infantile.

I ask myself: Am I getting really, really old really, really fast… or am I just still really, really young? Consider the evidence:

Thursday — the night of my birthday, I went out to dinner with my grandparents and parents (I intended to treat, but then I realized I had no wallet, and so…)

Friday night — saw a high school play; was in bed by 9.

Saturday — when invited out to the city to go bar-hopping, I declined, and instead sung American Idol karaoke with my brother, sister-in-law and Dude I’m dating (I sung REMs “End of the World” for those curious). Karaoke made me giggle. Karaoke wore me out. Bedtime.

Now, Dude is a pianist (no jokes, please), so it explains this next part, but I find myself listening to a lot of classical music. This means that more and more my awareness of pop music feels thin. I was in the car with my sister and she was humming some sort of Justin Timberlake-y. “Like his newest album?” she asks.

Who? I didn’t even know he had one out. -? Out of the loop. Out, out, out.

Sunday — Dude and I spent over 2 hours in a book store. 2 hours. This is what we do for fun, people. Books and classical music, while sleeping on couches not our own. Oh, yeah — and poetry, too. (Lots and lots of poetry);

I swear to God, I’ve almost forgotten what Bourbon tastes like; I haven’t worn a bra in months.

Okay, I’m kidding about the bra part.
And as I slide down the other side of my twenties, my desire for wildfire dwindles to a flickering flame…by the time I make 30 I’ll be knitting baby socks for my cat Patches while watching America’s Funniest Home Videos. Or, wearing baby socks.

Speaking of — last night, while tastefully sipping soup with my mommy and daddy, a couple from Colorado Springs won with a video “Sign from God.” It was weally, weally funny. rather humorous. Tee hee. Ha ha. Chortle.

(God save me).