I noticed something really weird yesterday, when a friend asked me how old I'll get in two days (4 May). I said "37." She said "That's not possible." Assuming that it was a form of flattery on her part, I said "yes it is."
And then she calculated that if I'm born in 1975 (which I am), and have my birthday on 4 May, I'm actually not yet 37, but 36. So, uhm. I'll just be 37 for two years, or maybe I'm gaining a year - I haven't quite made up my mind, but you'd assume that somebody somewhat conversant with numbers can actually calculate his own age.
I'm not sure if that kind happens to other people, but it also means I'm moving in a "post-age" space. It used to be a big deal, this age thing (especially when you want to see gory action movies or want to stay out late), but in the last few years I've pretty much decided that I'm about 27-30, or an "advanced teenager with a paycheck" - the only reason why I'm not 15-17 is that I've finished what they call "higher education" and don't feel like repeating it (or the anxiety about not being able to pay rent).
I fully expect the age thing to become important again when I'm counting down the years to retirement (and to accessing my pension fund), but for the moment, I'm floating in a space where I do need both hands with all fingers (okay, the calculator on my iPhone) to calculate my actual physical age.
At times, I feel like I'm inhabiting my own side-pocket in the space-time continuum; it's like the reality of other people, just a little bit warped and possibly inhabited by a larger amount of fairy-tale creatures and archetypes than normal. It's the Voinov version of Gaiman's Neverwhere. (That said, London IS it's own dimension, I have no doubt about it. Many other places I've been to are just less real. Or it's the history.)
In any case, normally I'd try to celebrate my birthday with free fiction of some kind, but the truth is, I'm currently not actually writing (I'm nostly reading, researching and doing Other Things, like plotting world domination). Maybe I'll come up with something though. Will think on it. I might be a touch late - I'm off to Canada (Ottawa) tomorrow and I assume I won't be spending that much time on front of a computer. Back on 11 May, then to tackle the mail inbox.
Have a great start into May, folks!
And then she calculated that if I'm born in 1975 (which I am), and have my birthday on 4 May, I'm actually not yet 37, but 36. So, uhm. I'll just be 37 for two years, or maybe I'm gaining a year - I haven't quite made up my mind, but you'd assume that somebody somewhat conversant with numbers can actually calculate his own age.
I'm not sure if that kind happens to other people, but it also means I'm moving in a "post-age" space. It used to be a big deal, this age thing (especially when you want to see gory action movies or want to stay out late), but in the last few years I've pretty much decided that I'm about 27-30, or an "advanced teenager with a paycheck" - the only reason why I'm not 15-17 is that I've finished what they call "higher education" and don't feel like repeating it (or the anxiety about not being able to pay rent).
I fully expect the age thing to become important again when I'm counting down the years to retirement (and to accessing my pension fund), but for the moment, I'm floating in a space where I do need both hands with all fingers (okay, the calculator on my iPhone) to calculate my actual physical age.
At times, I feel like I'm inhabiting my own side-pocket in the space-time continuum; it's like the reality of other people, just a little bit warped and possibly inhabited by a larger amount of fairy-tale creatures and archetypes than normal. It's the Voinov version of Gaiman's Neverwhere. (That said, London IS it's own dimension, I have no doubt about it. Many other places I've been to are just less real. Or it's the history.)
In any case, normally I'd try to celebrate my birthday with free fiction of some kind, but the truth is, I'm currently not actually writing (I'm nostly reading, researching and doing Other Things, like plotting world domination). Maybe I'll come up with something though. Will think on it. I might be a touch late - I'm off to Canada (Ottawa) tomorrow and I assume I won't be spending that much time on front of a computer. Back on 11 May, then to tackle the mail inbox.
Have a great start into May, folks!
I don't mind getting older other than the years seem to fly by faster the older I get. I'll be 35 May 18th and I swear I JUST turned 30 *shrug*.
ReplyDeleteHope you have a wonderful trip and birthday!
*hugs*
I'm not bothered by my age (36), although I have a vague curiousity about whether that'll change when I get to 40... Probably not though :)
ReplyDeleteHave a lovely holiday and birthday :)
Hah! keep us updated on that world domination plot :) Happy Birthday Aleksandr, best wishes for you and ur partner and enjoy you vacations. Hopefully you'll recharge well enough and come back to us with surprises :)
ReplyDelete/hugs
I'm with you. I don't much care about what age I am right now. (I'm 8 months younger than you.)
ReplyDeleteAlthough I think I'll be looking forward to menopause first. Then maybe getting the kids out on their own. Then retirement.
I hope you have a wonderful birthday. =)
So young and so unspoiled! I can never work out whether I'm 47 or 48 these days - but I think I'll be 48 in June (was born in '64), which is a surprise, as I'm sure I thought I was 48 last birthday ... :)
ReplyDeleteI hate growing old, that just sucks! And really, my birthday is the most depressive day of the year to me.
ReplyDeleteHmm, I'm not sure I understood what your friend have meant. Anyway, how can I understand when I'm not able to tell people how old I am before calculating it in my head. And I think my husband is not better at it. He will turn 39 this summer, so I keep teasing him telling him he's going to turn 40 next year and you know what he tells me? That he will turn 40 in 2 years because he is 38 now. Yeah, right.
Have a good time in Canada.