Thursday, September 3, 2009



So Rach flew back to the (l)east coast today for school. Not depressing at all...slash I have told her repeatedly on many occasions that I would do crazy, profane things to switch places with her. I.e: go back to college for another two years. From what I gather Wesleyan seems pretty interchangeable with Conn, give or take a few hippies. No but really. I guess there is the whole age thing, I would be ridiculously, conspicuously old. God I can't think about how old that incoming/current freshman class is. 1990's. Nope. Can't handle it. It reminds me of the Kanye West lyric I just noticed in the song that pop radio stations are currently beating to death: "Hold up, born in '88. How old is that? Old enough. I got seniority with the sorority. So, that explain why I love college". 
Like, really Kanye? Really? Old enough? I don't know why I felt the urge to to quote him here it's just I hadn't noticed that line until just the other day. And it made me mad. So what does that make me? 'Over the hill'? If '88 is 'old enough', what is '86? Ok I am definitely over-thinking this, it's just little things like this have been bothering me lately. Little indicators of time that slowly but surely imply that no I am in fact no longer 16. Believe it or not. Like seeing my 'baby' girl cousins in Sanibel this year. Constantly feeling the need to censor myself around them- I refuse to believe Emma is 16. The other day when I was talking to her face to face about how I've been feeling particularly ancient lately, and how I cannot believe how old she is, I suddenly blurted out "holy shit! You're the age they are on '16 And Pregnant'! (MTV's latest epic installation)". Emma probably thinks I am a freak. An OLD freak at that. Godammit I remember when floppy discs were literally FLOPPY. That's it. I'm done here.

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