How I Know I'm Old

Ok.  I know I'm not old, old.  However, making the decision to go back to college when I was 28, and take a part-time job at a frozen yogurt store has a way of making me feel like a fossil just months away from my 30th birthday.  And even though the 17-21 crowd always tries to reassure me that I'm not old, they say and do things that directly contradict their claims.  For example:

One day at work, someone had brought a little radio to listen to in the back so he wouldn't have to listen to the Muzak on the sound system.  The station was playing songs from the 90's that I loved during highschool.  I was in heaven: Bush, Third Eye Blind, Tool, etc.  It was awesome!  I sang along to every song.  I asked what station it was.  His response, "It's 107.5.  They play all the classics at this time everyday."  Huh.  The classics.

On another occasion, I was walking across campus with some of my classmates.  We were talking about our goals in life.  It was the usual talk of places we want to travel, what we want to accomplish with our careers once we're done with college.  Then the conversation turned to marriage and family.  Let's pause here.  When I was their age I though I would be married with a couple of kids by now.  I have several friends who are married with 2 or 3 kids.  I also have friends who are very established in their careers and/or who have traveled extensively.  I had been in a relationship for 7 years, and had a very successful and still promising career until I decided to go back to school.  It isn't as if I've been a bum up to this point.  I just changed course.  Back to the story.  One of the girls then said, "I just hope I'm not pushing 30 and not settled down with a husband and a kid.  I don't want to be that old and alone."  Yep.  Ouch.

I said "rad" once in front of one of my coworkers.  He asked if I really just said that.  I told him that indeed I did and that I said it all the time when it was a cool word to say.  He asked, "Wasn't that, like, a hundred years ago when that word was cool?"

I have lots of little stories like that.  But this one really got to me.  I have a coworker who is still in high school.  One day we were talking about movies.  I brought up Indiana Jones and he has only seen "The Crystal Skull" and thought it was awesome.  I told him he must watch the original movies.  Then he dropped a bomb on me.  Here's the conversation in script form.

Coworker:  I just saw Titanic for the first time the other day.
Me: (quite freaked out) You just saw Titanic???  Where have you been?
Coworker:  I don't know.  It came out a long time ago, so I just never saw it.
Me:  It wasn't that long ago!  I saw it 3 times in the theater.  Everyone saw it multiple times.
Coworker:  It was a long time ago.
Me:  Wait.  How old are you now?
Coworker:  I'm 16.
Me: And I'm 29, so you're 13 years younger than me.  It came out when I was 16, so you were...3.  Damn.  I'm old.

So that's the big story.  That's why I'm old.  My joints also get stiff when I've been sitting for a long time.  My dad was 25 when I was born.  So he was 30 when I was 5, which is about as far back as I can remember with any real clarity.  He used to always complain about his old bones back then.  Now I know he wasn't lying.

So it's official.  I'm old.

May 23, 2010.

As a person raised in the LDS church, I was baptised at the age of 8.  I don't really know exactly when I became a "born again" Christian, but I remember in the 5th grade that a friend of mine told a few of us that the way to get into heaven was to ask Jesus in your heart.  That wasn't what I had been taught at all and it sounded so funny to me.  But I went home that day and did it just in case.  I wanted my bases covered.  I remained very active in the LDS church and firm in my belief in it until I got to college.  My first boyfriend in college was an Evangelical Free pastor's son.  He fought me tooth and nail on my beliefs.  Not the best approach, but he did get me thinking about some things.  My best friend in college, Stephanie, was a Baptist.  We were roommates for a couple of years and we had some great conversations and attended a couple of Bible studies together.  Then for a while, I didn't attend any church.  I never really stopped praying to or believing in God.  I just moved Him to the back burner of my life.  I had become very disillusioned with the LDS faith and what I like to call the "checklist".  But I also was afraid of my mother's reaction if I attended another church.

About a year and a half ago, my supervisor at work was talking about Central Christian Church.  My step-sister had attended there before and loved it, and I had gone to a service or two there. I was now at a point in my life where I was trying to get God back in my life.  I wasn't doing things so hot on my own, and I have seen things in my life that could only be the hand of God and wanted it back in my life so desperately.  So, I decided to join her on Sunday.  I was hooked.  Several months later, things changed for me.  It was a typical Sunday. I was at church with my friends, Darlene and Randi. That weekend was the "Baptism Celebration Weekend." The sermon, of course, was on baptism.  Since I had already been baptised, I never really gave thought to being baptised again.  But the pastor said something that really struck me.  He talked about how being baptised as a baby or a child without a full understanding of what it actually meant was a nice way for parents to dedicate their child to God.  However, being baptised again as an adult is a great fulfillment of that dedication.  The wheels in my head started turning.  I thought to myself that I would pray about that and consider being baptised later.  After the service, my friends and I decided to go outside and watch the baptisms and support those making that decision.  As we were watching, this feeling came over me that I couldn't deny that I needed to get in the water now!  I said to Randi and Darlene, "I'm going in!"  I went to the info tent and signed up.  If a picture is worth a thousand words, I'll let these pictures do the talking for a bit.

The smile on my face says it all.  My life was profoundly changed in that moment.  After I got out of the water on the cold and windy day, the pastor and his wife were walking by.  They congratulated me, and seeing that I was now freezing cold, he said, "We'll shield you an protect you!" and he put his arms out  as if to put a barrier between me and the wind.  But more than the physical, I feel that through my baptism, my outward declaration of the change that happened within my heart, a protective barrier has been put around me.  Praise God.

Technology Scares Me.

I didn't get a cell phone until I was 23 years old.  That was about 6 or 7 years ago.  Not that I'm old, but kids these days can hardly believe that no one had cell phones when I was in high school.  My first phone was a really cute little flip phone that I bedazzled with pink self-adhesive rhinestones.  Oh yes I did.  My second phone was another flip phone sans bedazzling.  It seemed like everyone had that same phone at the time:  my then-boyfriend (now ex), my cousins, everyone.  Then everyone upgraded except for me.  It worked just fine for me, so there was no reason to upgrade.  I didn't need a fancy smartphone.  What the hell would I do with all that capability at my fingertips anyway?  I barely texted.

Then, it happened.  My screen wouldn't work.  It was time to upgrade.  I had my beloved flip phone for close to 4 years.  It was time to upgrade.  I walked into the phone store and told them, "I need a real keyboard because the touch screens scare me, and I need to access facebook."  I left with a lovely BlackBerry.  I loved that thing!  I slept with it under my pillow.  The little blinking red light beckoned me to see who called or emailed or texted or facebooked.  I even used the bbm feature.  The guy I had been dating for about a month when I got the phone made my screen name "Miss Cuss-a-lot," mostly because of my potty mouth.  My beloved CrackBerry, I mean, BlackBerry has been through a lot with me.  I dropped the poor thing more than I care to admit.  Text message conversations (mostly with boys) were read verbatim to my closest girlfriends for the purpose of analyzing every word and intention.  Tons of pictures of my dog were taken.  Facebook was checked obsessively.  Voicemails piled up because I really hate listening to them unless I have to.  What happened to me?  Wasn't I the girl content to have a flip phone with only 400 text messages on my plan that didn't need all the fancy stuff?  Now I don't listen to voicemails??  It's amazing how quickly we adapt.

Sadly, my BlackBerry (aka My Precious), started to go the way all cell phones must go eventually.  After nearly two years of faithful service, it began to die after being unplugged for only 20 minutes.  It was annoying as all hell.  Just this weekend, I upgraded.  I got a refurbished LG Quantum.  This thing is fancy.  It even has a touch screen that I am already becoming adept at using.  And I already downloaded 12 apps, including Angry Birds.  I can finally see what all the fuss is about on that one.  During this transition to the new phone, I have been declaring my uncertainty with technology.  I imagine the new phone being scared of me breaking it.  I guess what I'm really scared of is that I'll prove too stupid for the device I'm using.  In reality, on-line tutorials and some good old-fashioned playing around is all it takes to master the unknown.