Aging......

Dear Blogger,

Sorry its been so long since I've posted--I haven't been as disciplined as I intended to be, but I do happen to be inspired at the moment.

So I'm turning 23 tomorrow, but am now in National Reagan airport waiting for my flight to leave to Detroit/Lansing, where I'll be at the client site until Thursday. Therefore, I'll be ringing in the birthday in dear Sheraton Lansing, though hopefully have some good local Cantina fun with my McK teammates tomorrow evening. Anyway, in advance of being out of town, I had a few friends from McK, Stanford, and random Hill folks over to my pad for a nice Sunday afternoon kickback on my rooftop pool. Was a great turnout, a beautiful day, and GREAT people watching of the other owners/tenants in my bougie highrise. A lot of 'g-muppies with puppies' as I started calling them (gay middle-aged urban professionals with dogs). Anyway, good people.

But this slight tangent of a story is intended to introduce the subject of my bday. I dont really have a strong feeling about 23. I feel that 21 was clearly fab (esp spending in it NYC with my sigmas and Kory). And it was, well, 21, and I could finally legally gamble in casinos. And 22 was close enough to 21, and I spent it in Mexico, D.F. so was fine. Now 23 is really a grown up bday, my first in my 'adult life' where the world doesn't stop, and I could just chill on my day. Its always been in the summer so dont have to go to class, and quite honestly, could flake at an internship.

But as I sit in the airport, I am inspired on the topic of aging. Across from me sits this very beautiful young woman--pretty blond hair, very carefully dont make-up (even though its only 7 am), dressed all teenage trendy straight outta Forever 21.. She can't be more than 18. A very American girl look. She has US Weekly in one hand, but with her other she is holding her dad's arm. He's pretty old, at least 55. (I HOPE its her dad). But regardless, they are just sitting there, then her presumed mother steps. About 55 too, but looks like its been a rough 55 years. Sorry, dont wanna be mean, but she looks quite frumpy and haggard. Yet, at the same time, she is the splitting image of her daughter--same facial structure, same mannerisms, same look. Quite surreal bc I'm sure she looked just like her daughter--only 40 years ago.

It's just crazy to see such a severe example of how beauty is fleeting, or at least, dynamic/evolving. The conventional defining features of beauty dont last forever. Damn, and as I get older, scary to think about my turning into my mother. And the last time I saw her, I noticed she gets more gray hair, her skin gets more wrinkled, etc. I'm sure I will freak out when one day I look in the mirror, and it really hits me when I see an image of my mother staring back at me.

Anyway, until then, I will enjoy my babyface, and super youthful look of being mistaken for 15 years old, always getting carded (probably until I'm 40), and being confused for a college intern by the old frumpy executives at my client sites. But I should be careful in my judgment--after all, that can/will be me one day, God willing.

(P.S. Obama's birthday is today I think. Yay Leos! Roarrrrr! BTW, next time I'll have to write about Obama vs. dinosaur McCain in my next posting. But for now must go, plane taking off!!!)